#this was something when i was into one direction too it would always be like dont even THINK about larry around me

[hhughes]

𐔌 　 ⁺　 𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐀 𝐍𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𓂃۶ৎ

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 , after some comments were made by quinn's brothers, you get a little insecure in your relationship and he has to reassure you

𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒕. luke!bsf x quinn hughes. 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕. fluff. teasing. flirting. 𝒙𝒐 𝒄𝒂𝒎𝒊. I love writing quinn so much😭 this is a repost that’s slightly edited if it looks a little familiar to you. one of my favs things ive ever written to this day so thanks again to the anon who requested it! <333

you and quinn had been dating a few months now. sneaking around behind everyone's backs including luke. your best friend and quinn's youngest brother.

the four of you were sitting in the living room at the lake house, watching some movie. jack and luke were chirping quinn about some actress that he used to have a crush on. going on and on about how he had a thing for older women because he was such a mommas boy.

you laughed along at first, always finding it so endearing to watch the brothers bicker back and forth. even though you've been around to witness it for quite a few years now...it never got old. your smile quickly faded when jack started making comments about how all quinn's relationships with younger women has failed, and that he should go for someone older this time, cause it doesn't seem like the younger girls can handle him.

you know you shouldn't let these comments bother you. it wasn't that serious and it wasn't directed towards you, but it was one of your, if not the biggest insecurity you had when it came to your relationship with quinn. being four years younger than him. not being enough to keep him interested. these comments from two people who probably knew him the best, didn't do anything to reassure you.

"I'll be right back," you whisper, avoiding quinn's eyes as you make your way to the bathroom.

a few minutes later there's a soft knock on the door and quinn enters, when you answer, shutting the door behind him and coming over to where you're standing in front of the sink. he wraps his arms around you from behind, pulling you closer and kissing your shoulder softly.

"what's wrong sweetheart?" he asks you softly, brushing the hair out of your face as he holds you tight. the time he’s had to spent close to you but not allowed to touch you, having taken its toll on him.

"nothing," you mumble and he puts his hands on your hips, spinning you around to face him and pushing you against the counter.

"don't lie to me. I know you well enough to know everything's not okay and even if I didnt this pout is enough to tell me there's something wrong." quinn says, rubbing circles on your hip and tracing your lips with the thumb of his other hand.

"do you think I'm too young for you?" the words fly out before you can stop them and quinn sighs, knowing his brother's comments was the cause of this.

"age is just a number baby," quinn says teasingly, kissing your lips softly and you sigh.

"quinn I'm being serious," you retort, grabbing both of his hands and holding them in yours, the way they were caressing you becoming a little too distracting.

"so am I. I don't care if you're four years younger or four years older or if you were born the exact same day I was. It doesn't change the fact that you're perfect for me. you know how jack is, especially if he's been drinking, he can't keep his mouth shut. if there's an opportunity to chirp me about something, he’s gonna take it. if they knew that we were together, he would be more careful about making remarks like that. you know both of them adore you and would never say anything to hurt you on purpose" quinn says and you bite the inside of your cheek, knowing he was right.

“and besides, those relationships didn’t work out because they just weren’t the right girl for me baby. not because they were younger. they just weren’t you” he says softly, pressing yet another kiss to your collarbone.

"i’m not ready to tell luke yet." you say and quinn nods, expecting that response from you.

"the longer we wait, the worse it's gonna be." quinn replies and you look down, not wanting to argue about this. again.

quinn sighs softly before taking his hand out of yours and cupping your face between his palms, planting a soft kiss on your lips.

"god it's torture seeing you all day and not being able to touch you. kiss you." he says wrapping his arms around your waist and just hugging you for a few minutes. you smile a bit, thinking that this is exactly why he was nicknamed "huggy bear". your guy loves hugging.

"I'll sneak into your room tonight. if you think a young girl like me can handle you," you quip and quinn chuckles, knowing you're not gonna let that go for a while.

"I think you can handle me just fine baby" quinn smirks, slapping your ass as you walk past him, and out the door.

𝒙𝒐 𝒄𝒂𝒎𝒊. thank you for reading and feel free to drop by the inbox and share any and all thoughts <333

[callsign-rogueone]

Going off your wingleader!Liam idea… Liam and reader are third-years and total couple goals. A first year comes in and starts flirting with reader every time he sees her. He doesn’t know she’s dating his wingleader. She’s polite but doesn’t mention Liam.

One day during training the new guy is watching reader and running his mouth about how hot she is, nudging other guys in his squad and making all kinds of remarks, even going so far as to make a comment to Liam. Liam just smirks, showing off those cute little dimples, as reader walks over and kisses him in front of everyone. New guy just stares in absolute shock (and horror when he realizes the woman he’s been objectifying is his wingleader’s girl.) Need a fic like this immediately 😭

I love this so much. I don't have the bandwidth to write this into a whole chapter but I DO have ideas. so here they are. (future Liz here… I got very carried away. but it’s Liam, so it’s fine.)

this guy clearly thinks he's hot shit. not even bonded yet, but his ego is bigger than Tairn's. so of course he goes after you, a third year with a leadership position at the top of your class. (because Liam's girl is as perfect as him.)

at this point you're used to these boys coming in and trying to flex on everyone. so you know how to brush it off. it's so routine that you don't even mention it to Liam, because you've got more important things to do / discuss.

anyway.

a couple weeks go by of the same thing, until one day, mister confidence is just in the wrong place at the wrong time. running his mouth without realizing who's around him, watching you demonstrate something and making comments to his friends instead of paying attention. Liam's about to elbow him and tell him to shut up, and then he realizes that they're talking about you.

immediately, he's upset — he's just itching to tell this guy off, both for talking when he's supposed to be listening to directions that could save his life, and also for saying those things about you, making comments on your body and how much he wants to... you know what I’m getting at here. anyway.

you can see Liam standing at the back of the gym, can see the visible frustration on his face and the way his jaw is clenched, his shoulders tight and tense... and you know it's hard to upset our sunshine boy, so something bad must have happened.

you wrap up the demonstration, get the youngins paired up to work, and then you slip away to Liam and give him a little kiss, because that’s your default greeting, that’s just automatic at this point when you see him, and take his hand and ask what’s wrong.

and then all the stress and tension just fades out of him, and he gives you a genuine smile, pulls you closer and holds you in a way that makes it clear that you’re a couple.

normally he isn’t one for PDA, so you’re a little surprised, but you don’t question it at all, just happy to cuddle up with him, resting your head on his shoulder and taking a moment to relax — his presence is always so soothing, and you don’t get moments like this very often in your very busy days as a wingleader and a section leader.

you don’t even notice the boy’s slack-jawed look as he realizes that you have a boyfriend. you’re too busy appreciating the moment you get to spend with Liam — but over your shoulder, he’s definitely smirking at the kid, like… get fucked, she’s mine. not that our boy would ever say that. he’s just thinking it really hard.

he gets a little pouty once you're behind closed doors, though, and tells you about it.

you laugh, and remind him that the first year boys can look all they want, but he's the only one who can touch, and if they do, they're going to get their nose broken. and that he's the only one who can set foot in your room, because you absolutely warded them like Xaden and Violet's.

that pacifies him, but he’s still thinking about it for the rest of the day.

he doesn’t consider himself particularly possessive, but he realizes that he just wants people to know that you’re his — or more so that you’re together and in love, and you’re it for each other.

the pair of you have always been focused on the present, the incredibly stressful lives that you lead here at this death trap of a school. but now he starts really thinking about the future.

you’ll be graduating soon, a pair of lieutenants headed off… somewhere. he hasn’t decided yet. he’ll get his choice, being a wingleader. but what about you? section leaders aren’t promised anything. there’s only one other way to guarantee that you’ll stay together… and damn, does he like the idea of you having matching name patches on your flight jackets.

but you deserve a real proposal, a romantic one, not something rushed, decided out of practicality. and when is too soon in your relationship to talk about that? you’ve been together since your threshing, but it feels like a lot longer than that — everything you’ve endured has brought you closer, he supposes.

you curl further into his side with a sleepy hum. “what’s on your mind?”

he’s about to tell you it’s nothing, but you know him better than that. “you have that look on your face,” you mumble, your eyes still closed. “know you’re thinkin' about something.”

“about you," he answers honestly, lifting the arm you have slung around his waist and finding your hand, taking it in his. it fits perfectly, your skin smooth against the callouses and scars decorating his hands from years of making his carvings. a dangerous hobby, you’d joked. you have a point. he’s amassed more tiny injuries from his own knives than from anything Basgiath has put him through. “about us.”

“yeah?”

“yeah,” he answers, his thumb brushing over your ring finger, where a wedding band would go. “about the future.”

“two kids and a cat,” you murmur. “and trips to Morraine in the summer. rent a little house on the lake for a week or two, and just lay around.”

“sounds perfect.”

you just hum in reply, too tired to keep talking. Liam presses a kiss to your forehead, pulling the covers a little higher. “I love you.”

“Love y’too.”

[prythiansprincess]

best friend's brother! tom finally gets you alone

NAVIGATION // home. tag. moodboard. more.

author's note: the demons...they're getting loud again. i'm actually so feral for possessive and obsessive tom. I fear I might make this my whole personality now.

obsession. 

tom riddle was, in every sense of the word, obsessive. the fixation and compulsion he poured into the things he loved had always been a marker of his character. tom was not the type of person to casually partake in something; for the eldest riddle brother, the best things in life were worth being consumed by. 

and he was. 

utterly and irrevocably consumed by you. 

y/n, mattheo’s sweet and innocent best friend. the one whose pretty eyes and lovely smile haunted his every waking moment. the one whose honeyed voice played in his head like a melody and enticed him like a siren’s song. the one whose gentle touch sent his heart racing until he felt as though the damned thing was going to burst out of his bloody chest. 

you had no idea what you did to him, but you would soon enough because tom had a plan. for weeks, he had been plotting and scheming. trying to find the right time to finally get you all to himself. 

fortunately for him, the opportunity arose one fateful evening when mattheo left his phone unattended in the living room. it was so easy, almost too easy, to guess his brother’s password and open up his most recent text thread with you. 

mattheo: come over tonight? 

tom watched as three dots appeared on the screen, indicating that you were currently typing a response. 

y/n: will tom be there?

now that was interesting. perhaps you were asking because you wanted him to be there. wanted him as much as he wanted you. 

mattheo: yes. why do you ask?

y/n: I just don't want to be a bother. I know tom likes to study on tuesdays and me coming over would probably disrupt that.

tom couldn’t help but smile. such a thoughtful, caring girl. he couldn’t wait to ruin you. 

mattheo: tom will be fine. so, are you in or not?  i'll grab your favorite snacks. 

y/n: you had me at snacks.

half an hour later, you were standing in the doorway of the riddle home, dressed in one of those pretty little dresses that tom had imagined ripping off of your body a million times. as the door swung open, those innocent eyes widened at the sight of him. you flushed when tom met your gaze, a light pink hue dusting your cheeks. 

"oh. hi, tom. um, is mattheo here? he asked me to come over." 

tom casually leaned against the frame, giving you a once over that only deepened your flush. "my brother just stepped out, but he should be back soon." 

"o—okay. he's probably out getting snacks." 

tom watched as you lingered in the doorway, anxiously fidgeting with the hem of your dress. he thought it was adorable that you were still nervous around him after all this time. biting back a smile, tom opened the door to his home a little wider. 

"are you coming in?" 

“hm?” you asked absentmindedly. “oh. yeah. yes, i’m coming. not like that. I mean, obviously. shit. ignore me please.” 

tom raised a brow, but said nothing as he barely gave you enough of a gap to squeeze through the door. he smirked to himself as you maneuvered your way inside, perky breasts brushing against his solid chest. tom could smell the sweet scent of your strawberry shampoo as you passed through. he wanted to drown himself in it. you timidly avoided his gaze, choosing instead to follow him into the kitchen in silence.

“would you like something to drink?” 

you nodded. “yes, please, i’ll take a —”

before you could finish your sentence, tom handed you a cold can of vanilla cherry soda. your favorite. you thanked him with a shy smile before following him upstairs. instinctively, you turned in the direction of mattheo’s room, but tom gripped your wrist and kept you in place. 

“you can wait in my room if you’d like. mattheo might be a while. he reeked of weed when he left."

you chuckled. “it does take matty forever to pick out snacks when he’s high.” you shifted your weight from one foot to the other before glancing up at tom through your lashes. “are you sure you don’t mind? I wouldn’t want to impose.” 

“i’m sure,” tom confirmed. “I could use the company.” 

with that, you followed tom into his room. unlike mattheo’s, tom’s room was neat and organized. everything was perfect and pristine, much like the man standing before you. tom busied himself by putting away the books and notes on his desk while you fiddled with your fingers, not quite knowing what to do with yourself. 

“sit on the bed,” tom commanded. “make yourself comfortable.” 

“okay.” you replied in a small, breathy voice. 

carefully, you settled at the edge of his bed and crossed your legs. you drummed your fingers against your thigh, pondering how strange this situation was. in all your years of knowing tom, you had never once set foot in his room. at most, you caught glimpses of it when you passed by on your way to mattheo’s room. 

everything was so foreign and interesting. that was the desk where tom does all his studying. that was the closet where he keeps all of his clothes. that was the night stand where he places his glasses on before he goes to sleep. 

that was the bed that he laid in every night. your mind started to wander through all the things that tom had done in this bed. maybe by himself. maybe with someone else. the intrusive thoughts fired off one by one, leaving you flustered. does he soak the sheets when he gets himself off? does he tie his partners to the bed post when he eats them out? does he push their faces into the pillows as he rails them from behind? 

you were so engrossed in your dirty and filthy fantasies that you nearly jumped out of your skin when tom rested a hand on your thigh. 

“hm,” tom hummed. “you’re so jumpy, love.” 

you held your breath as he leaned closer, his face mere inches away from yours. the tension between you ebbed before he carefully took the soda can in your hand and placed it neatly on his nightstand. tom smirked when he noticed the hitch in your breath at his close proximity.

“do I make you nervous, doll?” 

“yes,” you answered truthfully. there was no point in lying. it was written all over your face. “you’re just so…intimidating.” 

“am I?” tom drawled as he slid in beside you, scooting in closer until his thigh was pressed against yours. even through his neatly pressed trousers, you could still feel the heat of his skin on yours. “maybe we just need to get to know each other better.” 

you bit your lip. “i’d like that, tom.” 

“good,” tom drawled. “let’s start with why you think you’d be a bother to me. mattheo told me you were hesitant to come over earlier.” 

you flushed as you stared at your shoes, the curtain of your hair shielding you from tom’s intense gaze. “I know you like your peace and quiet, which mattheo and I probably constantly interrupt. i’m sorry if we’re ever being annoying.” 

“you don’t have to worry about that. you could never bother me,” tom stated in a silky, flirty voice. “the only thing I find annoying is that you’re always with my brother. I just can’t seem to get you alone, can I?” 

you shivered as tom’s gaze flickered down to your lips. “well, we’re alone now.” 

“indeed we are.” you held your breath as tom leaned in closer, the bed dipping under his weight. “you have no idea how long i’ve waited for this. just you and me, without my brother to interrupt. I think about it all the time.” 

tom watched your pupils dilate, reacting to his admission. “what do you think about?” 

“I think about all the things I’d do to you. I think about the way you’d feel, the way you’d sound. if you’d scream or moan or whimper for me.” you shuddered at the sinful confession, rubbing your thighs together as heat rushed to your core. tom’s green gaze felt like a brand against your skin as a predatory look flashed through his handsome face. “I suppose there’s only one way to find out.” 

before you could react, tom’s mouth was on yours. the kiss was neither soft nor gentle, but instead hungry and possessive. the magnitude of his desire took you by surprise. you had always thought that tom viewed you as nothing more than mattheo’s pesky friend, the one that came over unannounced and wreaked havoc in his life, but apparently you couldn’t have been more wrong. 

tom kissed you like a man starved. he poured all of himself into the action, tangling his fingers through your hair, yanking your head backwards so he could kiss you deeper. you could barely keep up with the way he was devouring you, his tongue dominating yours while you moaned softly into his mouth. 

a gasp escaped your lips as tom picked you up and placed you on his lap. you were dizzy with desire as you straddled him, whimpering when tom bucked his hips against yours which caused his erection to rub against your soaked core. never in a million years would you have imagined tom to be this dirty and filthy as he grabbed and groped and gorged himself on you. 

your breathy moans filled the room as tom slid his right hand underneath your dress and squeezed your thigh before palming you through your panties. you melted into his touch, moaning his name softly while he growled in response. as he slid the lace aside, tom kissed your neck and teased your slit with his fingers. 

“you’re soaked, doll.” tom said with a dark chuckle. “do I make you wet, hm?” 

“yes,” you breathed, eyes rolling back as tom spread your slick ever so slowly. 

he seemed to take this as encouragement, taking his time teasing you, rubbing your clit and spreading your folds until you were reduced to nothing but a whimpering mess. 

“tom, please…”

“so needy,” tom murmured. “what is it that you want, love?” 

“I want…” you bit your lip as tom stroked your pussy. “I want your fingers. I want them inside of me. please, tom.” 

“aw, doll, you sound so pretty when you beg,” tom cooed. “don’t worry, I couldn't resist you even if I tried.” 

without warning, tom plunged his fingers into your pussy. you groaned at the stretch, face heating from how vulgar the scene unfolding before you truly was. tom watched with rapt attention as you squirmed and panted, drinking in every little moan and whimper like a fine wine. his fingers felt like magic as they curled and scissored and flicked inside your walls. the other hand that wasn’t playing with your pussy rested on your hip, gripping tightly as you grinded against tom. 

“that’s it, doll. ride my fingers just like that.” 

tom was mesmerized at the sight of you using him to get yourself off. mattheo’s sweet and innocent best friend was no longer sweet and innocent as tom fingered and ruined you like the perfect little slut that you were. his perfect little slut.

“are you going to be a good girl and cum for me?” 

tears streamed down your cheeks as you rode tom’s fingers like your life depended on it. your mascara and lipstick were both smeared, but you didn’t care as you chased after your orgasm. you gave tom a weak nod, half out of your mind with pleasure. 

tom gripped your chin and forced you to look at him. “answer me, doll.” 

“y — yes. i’m going to…oh god, tom!” you writhed as tom rubbed your clit with the heel of his palm, pushing you over the edge. 

the glimmer in your eyes right before you came unleashed something within tom. the flushed cheeks and fluttering lashes; the parted lips and strained scream, it was enough to drive him insane. he wanted to see you make that face over and over again. 

“you look so pretty when you cum, doll.” tom murmured as he bit down on your neck, staking his claim on your skin. “you’re fucking exquisite.” 

amusement danced in his gaze as you shied away from the attention, cheeks flushed from the praise. tom locked eyes with you before sticking his fingers in his mouth and licking them clean in the most obscene and erotic way you had ever witnessed. 

“don’t get all shy now, love. it’s your cum i’m licking off my fingers and i’ll be damned if you ever feel nervous around me again.” 

you chuckled in disbelief. the tom riddle in your head was supposed to be prim and proper, but the real tom was salacious and vulgar; a version of him that was better than what you could have ever imagined. still, despite the heated exchange, tom was surprisingly tender as he helped clean you up. you blushed furiously as he pulled your dress down and kissed your cheek. 

the timing couldn’t have been more perfect because soon after you were situated, the two of you heard footsteps in the hall. you barely had time to compose yourself before mattheo came barging into the room. 

“tom, have you seen my phone?” mattheo paused in surprise when he found you staring back at him. “oh, hi y/n. what are you doing here?” 

“you asked me to come over and hang out, remember?” 

“did I?” mattheo wondered aloud. “I was pretty baked earlier. guess I must have texted you then. well, i’m free now if you want to watch a movie.” 

tom smirked as you shot a bewildered glance at him. “oh, yeah sure.” 

“by the way, what are you doing in tom’s room? is he boring you to death about his coin collection again?” 

you blushed furiously. “no, uh, we were just…tom and I were…” 

“we were discussing the finer points of human anatomy,” tom lied smoothly. his smirk was still perfectly in place as he glanced over at you. “it was a rather…stimulating conversation. was it not, doll?” 

the tips of your ears were bright red as you nodded in place of a response, because you couldn’t trust yourself to speak at the moment.

mattheo rolled his eyes. “well, if you’re done being a weirdo, y/n and I will be in the basement.” 

you fiddled with the hem of your dress, not quite able to meet tom’s eyes. “um, well, I guess I’ll see you later?” 

tom winked behind his brother’s back. “you know where to find me, doll.” 

[jmliebert]

♡ Halsin Being Love Smitten by an Oblivious Tav ♡

Oh, this is a good one. Halsin — strong, confident, experienced — brought to his knees by one thing he never saw coming: your sheer, unrelenting obliviousness. It’s hard to make him baffled, but you did. You actually made him baffled. Incredible. 

He’s lived for over three centuries. Seen countless wonders, taken many lovers, and faced horrors that would break lesser souls. Nothing has caught him off guard for the longest time it would seem. And yet you have. Because somehow, despite his very clear interest, his smoothest moves, and his voice dropping into that deep purr — you simply don’t get it. Not one bit. 

And by Oak Father, it really do baffles him. 

You see, he feels it every time you walk by — a rush of warmth in his chest, the unshakable need to be near you. He listens to your every word, even your stillest ramblings, with rapt attention, laughing easily and freely in a way he hasn’t in years. It feels good to be close to you. It feels right. And he’s wise enough to know exactly what that means. He is, without doubt, utterly and completely love smitten with you… and Halsin is many things, but shy is not one of them. So naturally — he courts you. 

At first, subtly, slowly… intending to take full pleasure from getting to know you better in that kind of way. A lingering touch here, a playful tease there, a deep-chested chuckle whenever you say something endearing. Surely you’ll catch on. 

You do not. 

You smile at him. You laugh, you listen, you seem happy to be around him. But not once — not once! — you show any sign of realising that he likes you more than a friend. (oh, so much more)

Is he being too subtle? Surely not. Halsin is experienced. He’s seen things. He’s been with partners who could read his desires from a single glance, and here he is — flexing like a fool whenever you so much as glance in his direction, hoping you’ll notice. 

And Oak Father help him, he’s trying so hard. It’s like he isn’t himself anymore. He feels like a young pup wandering into unknown territory. 

So… he finds excuses to touch you. Offers a steadying hand when crossing a stream (as if you’re not perfectly capable), lets his large hands linger on your waist a fraction too long when lifting you over an obstacle. Getting all worked up from the mere brush of your knees. 

One day Halsin brings you fruit he’s foraged with a casual,

"If you desire more, I am always at your service.”

"You really do take good care of everyone," you say, eyes shining with pure, unshaken obliviousness. The words he wants to say—I would much rather focus my care on you specifically—catch in his throat, swallowed down by a sigh. Somehow, faced with your innocence, he just can’t bring himself to say it.

Has he lost his touch? Is he truly so out of practice? He has never worked this hard to make his feelings known. And worse—he’s starting to feel things he hasn’t in years. Frustration, longing, an almost feral urge to just grab you by the shoulders and tell you outright.

By the gods, he is horny and in distress. And he’s been horny many times, but in distress like this? No. However… Halsin is not a man who simply gives up. Not to doubt, not to hesitation—and certainly not when it comes to you. Not when he’s waited lifetimes to feel this way again. Not when he’s finally met someone who stirs the very roots of his being.

So, no more subtlety, no more lingering touches. No more charming lines that you so sweetly misunderstand. One evening, with all the weight of a man on the brink, he levels you with a look, strong arms crossed over his chest, and says in a tone that leaves no room for interpretation:

“Tav. We need to talk. And this time, I’ll make sure you understand exactly what I mean.”

Because by the Oak Father, if you don’t realise how desperately he wants you after this conversation—he might just lose his mind.

So he takes you away—away from the crackling campfire, from the idle chatter of your companions, from the weight of the world pressing down on both of you. He leads you to a quiet, secluded glade where the trees arch overhead like ancient sentinels. The stars shimmer above, casting silver light over everything, but Halsin?

Halsin is radiant.

He stands before you, broad and strong, his golden skin illuminated by moonlight. There’s something different in the way he looks at you now—an intensity, a quiet, unshaken resolve. And then, in a voice deep as the earth itself, he speaks:

"I want to lay with you under the stars and feel your skin against mine…”

Your breath stutters. Your eyes widen, because suddenly, everything clicks into place.

The lingering touches. The flirtation you had brushed off as simple kindness. The way his gaze always seemed to find you, the way his presence felt like a steady force in your current life, constant and unwavering. It was never just friendliness. It was never just admiration.

It was this.

It was him wanting you.

The weight of his words sinks into you, slow and heavy like honey pouring thick from a jar. He isn’t teasing. He isn’t jesting—Halsin is far too earnest for that. His kindness, his unwavering dedication, have only blurred the truth for you. But now, there is no mistaking it. There’s no lightheartedness in his tone—only intention. Only want.

The words roll off his tongue like a promise, rich with meaning, with want. His voice is steady, but there’s something beneath it—an unmistakable need. His hand lifts, slow, deliberate, as if he’s savouring every second before he touches you. And when he does—when his large, calloused palm finally cups your cheek—your breath catches.

His warmth is immediate, grounding, real. He’s so close now—too close, not close enough. His golden eyes search yours, darkened with something primal, something deep and unspoken. He’s looking for something—truth. An answer. A silent permission for this moment to become something more.

And gods, the air between you is alive with it. 

Will you give it to him?

That choice—that power—is yours.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

again, thanks for this lovely request

you can find more of my works about halsin ♡here♡ hihi

[softaestluv]

would you possibly do a ghost x reader where the two are sort of established enemies on base and they get into some scenario where they have to work together because everyone’s tired of how much they hate each other? 🥹

Your teeth grit at your captain's words, mouth falling opening to protest, “Captain, please forgive me, but I am not doing that with him.”

You feel like an insolent child, it's not like you to protest a direct order from your captain; you respected him far more than that. Though, you dont necessarily hold those same opinions for the masked man standing in front of Price’s desk with you. This wasn’t exactly a secret, everyone on base— including your captain, knew the resentment the two of you had for each other.

However, this wasn’t your fault; it was all his.

When you were assigned to the task force, you were nothing but kind, gracious even. Developed close friendships with everyone, but Ghost. Though it wasn’t for a lack of trying; you had tried restlessly to build a bond with him. If you were going to be on his team the least you needed was to trust the man. So, you kept trying to make it happen, but he turned all your attempts down, arrogantly replied with smart remarks or just actively ignored you. Completely silent with a frigid stare.

So, you gave up, stopped trying to please a man who could not be pleased. Let him crawl under your skin in ways no one had before, clenched your jaw tightly in irritation every time you passed him on base. Temples pulsing in aggravation each time you two made eye contact across the room.

Snarled at him during training when he pushed you a little harder than the rest of the sergeants, when he made you run one more extra lap than everyone else or stay behind to clean sweaty and soiled mats in the gym while the rest of them went out for drinks. Wished you could spit at his feet when he denied sparring with you, muttered nonchalantly that you simply weren’t strong enough.

All decency you had for him dissipated after that, insignificant and shattered. Stomped your way across the mat and pressed your finger against his chest.

“Fuck you.”

Ghost laughed. Cackled in your fucking face, had your blood boiling in your veins, “I’d like to see you try.”

Your fist clenched at your side, pointer finger at his chest gripped at the neckline of his shirt, balling it in your palms.

“Sergeant,” Price’s voice rang from the entrance of the gym, arms crossed over his chest, “Stand down.”

Which is how you found yourself in your current predicament, a stupid glimmer in his eyes at your apparent irritation. Granted, you probably shouldn’t have cussed at your superior, but you had dealt with his brazen attitude for entirely too long.

A piece of you felt bad about the entire situation, not for Ghost, but for the rest of the task force. They were forced to listen to the two of you bicker over the comms, growl at each other during dinner, sit in the thick tension everytime the two of you were in the same room. Though, Soap always joked that ‘you two just needed tae shag and get it ower wi’.’

But you couldn’t stop yourself, not when the cocky asshole turned to you with a mischievous glint, every syllable drenched in his stupid Manchester accent, “You can’t clean a couple tables, sergeant?”

You bit your tongue harshly, “I can do that just fine. I’d just rather do it without you there.”

Price exhaled exasperatedly, rubbing at his temples, “That’s enough from the both of you. If the two of you can’t do something as simple as cleaning the mess hall together then maybe neither of you belong on the task force.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, diverting your gaze defiantly, but still the both of you muttered a ‘yes, sir.’

Honestly, the task wasn’t that hard, the two of you had to clean the mess hall in preperation for an upcoming event on base. A relatively simple task for the military, better than running excess laps. You weren’t exactly sure how this was supposed to be ‘team bonding’considering the fact the two of you would be cleaning opposite sides of the mess hall. Wouldn’t interact with each other unless the two of you physically had to. It was more of punishment for the two of you to get your shit together and shut the hell up rather than becoming best acquaintances.

So, you did it, for the sake of the rest of your team. It would easy enough, but it seemed you had marginally underestimated your lieutenant’s animosity towards you.

You were half way through scrubbing the tiled floors on your hands and knees before you realized Ghost had left. You willed the anger pulsing your temples away, collecting yourself with a deep breath because maybe he would be back soon.

Except he never fucking came back, found him lounging in the rec room, leisurely sipping a cup of tea like he hadn’t left you to scrub at the grease and grime in the kitchen for two hours alone.

You stood in front of his spot, hands on your hips, “Hey asswipe.”

He lifted his head up at you, like he had barely noticed you standing there before tilting his head to the side, “Hmm?”

“You were supposed to be helping me clean the mess hall.” You spat, pointing to the door of the room.

“Just thought you could handle it all on your own,” He remarked, feigning innocence as he tapped his chin like he was deep in thought, “Surely somethin’ as simple as that wasn’t too hard for you, was it, doll?”

You fluttered your eyes shut, tried your best to stop yourself from decking your lieutenant square in his fucking skull mask. Would enjoy it entirely too much to smash the stupid porcelain between your palms. Instead, you replayed Price’s words in your head, remembered all the times Soap and Gaz made dealing with a man such as Ghost worth it.

You smiled down at your lieutenant because if it was his goal to get you kicked out of the task force, well you would do everything in your power to keep that from happening. Wouldn’t play along in his game as long as it pissed him off, ruined his plan.

[fluemsiie]

our family [ j. ackles ]

synopsis. you need jensen to come back home. notes. 1.3k words, breastfeeding, depression, mentions of ppd, not proof read, happy birthday jensen <3 — comments & rbs appreciated.

jensen’s been filming for a while, and by a while, you mean for freakin’ months. he can’t catch a break and so you did what any sane person does— you moved to vancouver all the way from texas just to be close to him. it took a lot of planning, and way too much money, but you weren’t letting your husband stay at a different country alone anymore, it was taking a toll on both your mental health and your relationship.

not to mention your daughter always asking for daddy, where he is, can she go out with him; it’s breaking your heart as much as it is his and so you decided to settle for a smaller apartment near where they were filming.

you’d say it helped your mental health but that would be a lie. ever since you had your daughter you knew something had been seriously wrong. you’re unmotivated to move out of bed, you try to do everything you need to in your room, hardly go out to see anyone but her. anything you need to go do, you have delivered. if the whole ‘not moving’ thing wasn’t hurting you, then the fact that you let your body go a little is fucking breaking you.

you don’t think anything has ever been so wrong in your life, nothing goes the way it should and it seems like you can’t fix it no matter what you do which is disappointing considering you’re a mother now. a mother. you’re supposed to know everything and have all the answers.

and despite moving to be closer to him, leaving behind your own family, something not a lot of people would do, he still spends some nights at jared’s (because gen is still in texas, like you should be).

except there’s also another thing jensen has no idea about; you got diagnosed with depression shortly before you made the move, it’s a big reason why you did the move in the first place. you thought it was past partum but you made sure to actually get diagnosed before telling jen and since you won’t be harming yourself or your baby girl, you decided he didn’t need to know.

he’s been so busy since he decided to start directing too and you’re insanely proud of him, even if you’re having a hard time. but you don’t wanna risk it so here you are, alone in a city you’ve visited only a handful of times with your two year old daughter.

but today’s by far one of your worst days. you tried taking some pills, just pain killers, you aren’t comfortable taking pills for whatever’s wrong with you, you can’t risk hurting any future babies. it isn’t like you don’t believe in them— you’re a nurse, of course you do, but you also know they could hurt you long term, it’s not worth it.

some days it seems like it’s just not worth it. you pick up your phone to call jensen. it takes a few rings but then he responds and you sigh in relief. you honestly thought he wouldn’t pick up, “hey.”

“what’s wrong? are you okay?” it catches you by surprise but when you recover you tell him you and rhyme are great. “i mean you, sweetheart. you sound off.”

you don’t sound that off. definitely not enough for him to pick it up the second you greet him. not that you’re complaining, maybe if he knows what’s wrong he’ll get home faster. jensen’s always helped you in ways he wouldn’t even believe— he’s your life force at times and you’re not sure what you’d do without him, especially now when you need him.

and he’s not neglectful, he took your first four months off from filming and had his sister stay with you for the other two. he’s always put your needs in front of filming but you don’t want to be overbearing.

“when are you getting home? i’m making your favorite.”

“yeah? ‘m not too sure. twelve-thirty, give or take.” which is code for ‘don’t wait up’ so you wake up and find out he never made it home, just crashed on set or at jay’s

“okay.” you can’t bring yourself to ask him to come home even if you don’t doubt he will. jen’s working because he loves his job, sure, but it’s also to provide for you, he wouldn’t want to hurt you over something he’s doing for you in the first place. and you know all that, you just wish you’d always be logical enough to remember it. 

“is that it?” god, this is conflicting. you know you need him right now, you just can’t get the words out. “sweetheart?”

“yeah.” 

It’s a beat before he responds. “i’m coming home at twelve with dinner. don’t cook anything.” he ends the call and you’re smiling. it’s no surprise he figured you needed him, but you couldn’t be happier to have someone that cares enough to come when you call, despite your call being ominous and downright needy.

+

it’s the third time you’ve started frozen because rhyme doesn’t understand that when a movie ends you start a new one, all while breastfeeding her. it’s gotten significantly easier as she nears two years old, she just sits next to you instead of you having to kill your back, and she honestly does it for ten minutes maximum before she gets bored.

and at this point she’s tried everything from lamb to mashed fruit, milk is hardly a full meal to her. but your doctor said it’s best to try and breastfeed her until she hits the 22 month mark. she’s nearing 20 months now.

when she’s done, and else is singing ‘let it go’ with rhyme as her background vocalist, you get up to get started on dinner. jensen said to not make anything which means he’s ordering take out himself but you should probably make sure the counter is clean and that there’s a salad to go with the food.

just as you’re done cleaning the table, the front door opens and your shoulder fall in relief. you didn’t even know you were raising them. you hear his footsteps all the way to the living room, where rhyme runs into her dads arms and lifts her up effortlessly. 

he turns to you, sees you standing in your open kitchen and walks over to kiss your hair softly. “hey, baby girl.” 

rhyme laughs and hugs him tighter. well, the endearment is yours as much as it is hers, you’re both his girls. 

“thanks for coming home, jen.”

“don’t do that, don’t thank me for that. i should’ve known it bothered you— and you should’ve told me earlier.”

“it doesn’t always! just when i need you and then i wake up and i just don’t find you.” days where the depression is just, god, it’s horrible. days when you can’t take rhyme crying because you can’t find the toy she lost or when she’s hungry and you’ve only slept two hours, waiting for his text to confirm he’s safe and at home. 

“baby, i can’t always read your mind, sometimes you gotta help me out.” you nod quickly and he kisses his daughter before putting her down. 

“foor?” food. he nods, placing the bag onto the table. you’ve been teaching her german so she confuses d’s for r’s. you’re not too sure how that came to be but you don’t question it because she’s been saying words in german.

the smell hits you all at once, and your heart practically squeezes itself. jensen drove to your favourite restaurant thirty minutes away. it makes your home country’s food the most authentically and you’ve always loved feeling at home. 

“jensen, seriously?” he smiles and you’re the one who throws yourself into his arms this time, his little girl, not quite understanding, joins in. and you’re not sure how you would’ve gotten through today without him coming back home to his girls.

[mapoeggplant]

skip to loafer chapter 68 + shima analysis // spoilers

acceptance of the monster: how facing the past is necessary when the goal is a brighter future

i think that those who have been following me for a while have seen all my analyses and random insights about shima. i have immense affection for him and he will always be one of my favorite characters ever. and chapters like this remind me of how important he is in my life. 

chapter 68 is very straight to the point, but it also hides some small and big changes that started to bubble up from previous chapters. for the first time, we no longer have small, not very explicit scenes from shima's memories or him being so afraid of finally facing the past: now we have the naked truth, laid out in front of us, so that we can understand a little more about how the childhood that shaped shima's entire life until now was.

unlike what i imagined, i didn't get angry with taiga now that he was introduced. of course, i don't think his actions were right or that he didn't influence shima in a negative way, but his appearance at that moment served as both a salvation and a tragedy for shima's life.

there are many layers to be analyzed. we know very, very little about taiga, but we can understand that he didn't have a very good relationship with his family either — the moment he talks about his parents' disappointment in him for giving up acting shows us that he was probably also forced to do something he didn't want to do. he is also the result of a desire imposed on him, causing him to rebel as the years went by.

in a way, meeting shima is like meeting your past self. i don't see much evil in his actions or see it as something malicious. i think he recognized in shima's face the same nervousness that he himself felt every time before his rehearsal, thus proposing that he also have an act of rebellion to feel a little freer.

however, the evil of all this is that taiga, without knowing anything, ends up entering shima's life at a time when he is most fragile and hurt by everything he has been facing (whether it be his abusive relationship with his mother or his growing fear of acting). shima sees taiga as an equal, someone who understands all the pain he has faced but managed to escape from it, while he’s still a prisoner. he sees the older boy as an inspiration, as a friend he longed for, who would show him what a life away from cameras and rehearsals would be like.

shima is still too young to understand everything that is happening around him, and too young to see any kind of problem in following his new friend. having a destructive act at a time of such fragility gives him a certain strength, because he understands this as the only way he has to face his mother and go against everything that is imposed on him. going out with taiga, even if secretly, is a message to his mother: you no longer have control over me.

unfortunately, we have known the result of these escapades for a long time. ririka, also worried about shima, decides to follow him and ends up being targeted by several online attacks. even though shima was the one who “took” her there, ririka, a beautiful and successful girl, is the perfect target.she is the one who suffers the direct consequences, and of course this is closely linked to the sexism that is rooted in society and how much people wait for a girl to make a small mistake so that they can destroy her in some way (i talk more about this in my exclusive ririka analysis).

now shima no longer has to face just two monsters: they have now multiplied into a thousand, becoming even stronger. the consequences of his rebellion come in an aggressive form, with his mother’s abuse and the new tarnished image he obtained in his artistic circle. his mother’s anxiety comes from the fact that shima would no longer get big roles, either because of this transgression or because he missed so many rehearsals, which did not lead to any improvement in terms of acting. blinded by all the anger she feels inside, shima's mother's direct response is no other than to attack her son.

child abuse is extremely common in the arts, whether by parents, the press, the public or co-workers. shima is just one of many young actors who have had to suffer the wrath of a parent who is disappointed by a dream that they themselves forced their children to have. and of course, this would result in years of being afraid to be who they are, to speak out and to live a normal life without carrying immense guilt. the prison that he has placed himself in for all these years is the evolution of the bonds imposed by his mother.

the turning point does not happen in this chapter itself, but in a sequence of long events that led him to where he is. it is impossible for shima to change overnight: it takes a lot of work and a lot, but a lot of analysis (even if it is self-analysis) to finally understand and be able to heal all this pain that he has been held hostage by for so many years. and the second part of the chapter shows exactly that.

shima is no longer afraid to face the monster of the past because he is no longer alone. he finally understands that there are people around him who care about him and fight to stay by his side. having people's support and love gives him the strength to move forward and continue this arduous battle of growing up. shima now understands what it is to be loved to the point of being happy about a past fight, as it resulted in an even closer relationship with mitsumi. he understands that being loved is being able to look back on the past and no longer feel pain or guilt, but to recognize the one who suffered so much, with no one by his side.

he now takes on the role of the monster, but no longer to affirm his guilt, but to be able to show his past self and all the other monsters around him how it is possible for him to be happy. how it is possible to decide things for yourself and follow your heart. how it is possible to love so many people and be loved in return. how it is possible to look at a person and feel an immense warmth, an inexplicable desire to keep fighting, all so that he can be by their side. 

shima is finally reaching out to his past self, so that they can form a new future together.

before i finish, i would also like to touch on an important point that i see the possibility of being discussed in the future: shima's current relationship with his mother. chapter 67 brought something very important, which was shima's recognition when he admitted that he felt a certain pity for his mother, due to all the comments he heard about her. deep down, he feels a certain empathy for his mother and no longer sees her as an unbeatable villain. he has been slowly trying to change his relationship with her, and the first step is to invite her to watch the play he chose to be in. this in my opinion shows shima's desire to forgive his mother in order to move on, but also seek some kind of forgiveness from her (which can be a result of many years of manipulation, since he still thinks he is guilty for a lot of his mother’s pain). i feel that we will still see a type of closeness between them and a deeper conversation, so that shima can finally feel like he belongs to a family again. this can be a triggering moment to a lot of readers, so if it does happen, please be mindful of it. 

the layers that not only this chapter but this whole new arc has are much deeper than we imagine. building a character requires love, patience and conversation. you need to listen and understand what your character wants. respect is needed so that the story can grow. takamatsu misaki has a huge affection for her characters, for her story and for everything she has been building since 2018.

we're so lucky to be able to follow such amazingly beautiful story.

thank you so much for reading 💛💛!! don't forget to support sensei if you can! always here to discuss more about the chapter!

[oopsiedaisydeer]

ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ, ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ ɴᴏᴛ… ᴀ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ

angst, fluff, social anxiety, one-sided attraction?, unresolved tension, self-doubt, slow burn, texting, fluff, coming-of-age, friends to lovers?

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙚𝙚: 𝙨𝙘𝙝𝙧ö𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧’𝙨 𝙘𝙧𝙪𝙨𝙝, 𝘧𝘵. 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨!𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘺!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

series masterlist here.

word count - 1.2k

Each moment with Matt unfolded in little fragments, stitched together by the soft glow of your phone screen.

Matt finally responds.

It’s late, hours after you’d sent your last message, when your phone vibrates on your nightstand. You’re already half-asleep, but the soft buzz jolts you awake.

Sorry, got distracted Anyway, yk the essay we have to write?

No explanation. No acknowledgment of the silence. Just a smooth continuation, like he never left you waiting.

You stare at the screen for a moment before replying. 

oh, all good!!  yh what did u need ?

Do u mind reading over this and telling me if it makes sense?

He sends you a screenshot.

You rub the sleep from your eyes, blinking at the bright screen as you open the image. His essay fills the screen, paragraphs stacked neatly, but something about it looks rushed.

do u want my honest opinion or the nice version?

A typing bubble appears instantly.

Honesty is the best policy

You grin, looking at the writing again.

ok tbh it's solid but ur conclusion is kinda weak feels like u just gave up halfway through

Wow. Brutal.

im just saying!! u started strong and then dipped

Matt doesn’t reply right away, and for a second, you worry you were too blunt.

Fair. I did kinda bs the ending

told u

The typing bubble appears, then disappears. You wait, your phone screen illuminating your face in the dark.

Does it at least sound smart?

You smile, curling deeper into your blankets.

ehh. smart-ish

I’ll take that as a compliment. especially from u.

A pause, and your chest warms. Then-

Thanks btw For reading it over

You smile again. It’s such a small thing, but he didn’t have to say it.

ofc :)

You yawn again, exhaustion settling into your bones. You should really sleep.

But before you can put your phone down, another message pops up.

U busy tomorrow?

Your stomach flips.

not rlly, why?

Just wondering

A beat.

I need to sleep. goodnight

You bite your lip, smiling at your screen like an idiot.

night matt

You don’t sleep right away.

You see him at school the next day.

He’s with his friends, laughing at something as he leans against the lockers. Your stomach flutters at the sight of him, like the texts from the past weekend were some secret window into a version of him that only you got to see.

For a second, you think he might look over, maybe even acknowledge you. But he doesn’t. His gaze sweeps the hallway, passing right over you without stopping.

You remind yourself that it’s fine. He has his friends. It’s not like you expected anything.

If u had to pick between never reading again or never watching a movie again, which one would you choose?

The question came out of nowhere, right as you were finishing up your homework. You blink at the message before a small smile creeps onto your face.

that's evil!!!! why would u make me choose?

Coz it's important Life-changing, even

You stare at your screen, biting your lip. Books had always been a comfort, but movies... movies made you feel things in a way nothing else did.

i hate u for this, but i think i'd pick movies

TRAITOR.

You laugh, warmth bubbling in your chest.

At school, you walk into one of the classes you happens to share with him. 

You consider sitting beside him, or maybe just near him. But no, that doesn’t feel right. You consider maybe just saying something, just a quick "hey," but Matt doesn’t look up, doesn’t even glance in your direction.

Maybe he doesn’t see you. Maybe he’s just caught up in his own world.

Still, a tiny part of you deflates.

The texts continue.

Not constantly, but enough. Small exchanges after each school day, little inside jokes, assignments, shared thoughts about books, movies, random things that make you think of him.

why is it that every time I think I have things figured out, I realise i'm just guessing?

Is this about the math homework or do u just overthink everything?

stfu matt

Some days, it’s just a text or two. Other days, the conversation stretches late into the evening, messages sent in bursts between homework and distractions. And even though he never says much at school, this part, this hidden part, feels real.

The first time you call.

It starts as a joke. You text, teasing him:

u need me to explain this to you? i thought you were the expert

He replies:

Excuse me. You just dont get it

wow, ok! mansplainer unlocked.

U know what? Call me rn I’ll prove it

You hesitate. Your fingers hover over the screen. Then, before you can second-guess it, you press the button.

The phone rings once. Twice. Then—

"Wow. You actually called."

His voice is softer than you expected, warm with amusement. You roll your eyes, even though he can’t see you. "You told me to."

"I didn’t think you’d actually do it."

You’re smiling now, your nerves fading. The conversation unfolds slowly at first. Then it's natural, playful, easy. It lasts only a few minutes, but by the time you hang up, your heart is racing for reasons you don’t want to name.

Late at night, when you're already curled up under your blankets, your phone buzzes again.

Can I call you? Got something to rant about.

Your heart leaps. He wanted to call? Again?

You hesitate only for a second before typing back,.

sure!

Moments later, his voice filled your ears, soft and a little scratchy.

"I swear my physics teacher has it out for me. I turned in my homework early, and he still said I was missing something."

You smile, adjusting your pillow. "Sounds like a personal vendetta. What did you do to him?"

"Existed."

You giggle in response, the sound unfamiliar even to yourself.

They ended up talking for an hour, about school, music, the book he promised to lend you but still hadn’t. You barely notice the time passing until your eyelids grew heavy. But even as your body begged for rest, you didn’t want to end the call. Not yet. It was ridiculous. He was just ranting about physics, and yet, something about his voice in the quiet of your room made you feel lighter.

"I should probably sleep," you murmur, voice thick with drowsiness.

"Yeah," he said, but neither of them hung up. The silence stretched, comfortable.

You wonder if he could hear you breathing. If he was waiting for you to say something else, or if he was just as unwilling to let go.

Somehow he finds something else to yap about, even as your eyes drifted shut.

When you wake up, the call is over, but he's texted you.

Goodnight ? Sorry lol i didn't want to be creepy and listen to u breathe so i hung up Hope u sleep well

You ever think about how weird it is that we weren’t really friends before?

You read his message over three times before replying.

yeah, sometimes why?

I dunno. Just feel like we should’ve been.

Something about that message stuck with you for the rest of the day, an ache in your chest that wasn’t unpleasant.

You had been happier lately. And you knew why. You just weren't sure if you were allowed to admit it to yourself yet.

thank u rose for the dividers!!! @bernardsbendystraws

a/n: ahhhhh making these texts will be the bane of my existence.

taglist: @backwardshatnick @sturnslutz @applecidersturniolo @kier-with-a-k @evansturn @bluestriips @55sturn @snoopychris @y3sterdaysproblem @cowboylikenat @throatgoat4u @mattswifeyy @marysongohmy @idefinitelyhateu @sweetshuga @st7rnioioss comment to be added/removed from this series taglist !

till next time <3

[thereweredragonshere]

Hi!!!!

First I just wanted to say that I love your art, and that your art of Astrid has been slowly pulling me into the Buffstrid camp!

And secondly, do you have any advice on drawing Night Furies? I've been having trouble with it (there's a 1/4 complete drawing I have just TAUNTING me) and in particular trouble with boiling it down to just shapes.

Heyy!!! :D

Thank you so so much!! <3

I find that night furies can be broken up into five basic shapes, which are then expanded upon

I will admit that it is hard to put the connection between these shapes into words. I find a lot of this comes from having traced over toothless so many times that my hand quit its job and filed a lawsuit against me. My best advice is to use those basic shapes and trace over toothless with them in mind to gain your own understanding of how he is structured, as it works differently in every artist’s mind.

- The chest is boxy and the broadest part of the torso (Think kinda like a bird, cuz they gotta have all that muscle for the wings. And the ribcage is there)

- The midsection gets increasingly thinner

- The pelvis is the pinch point where the body transitions into the tail

Another thing is the structure of the back.

I know that looks horrible and mathematical but I promise you those three red triangles are such life savers.

The top blue line is where the spine (presumably) is, so that is the most flexible part of the back. Everything will bend in accordance with it. It starts at point A of the red triangles, and ends at the pelvis. Point A to point C is on a slant, and is the absolute widest part of the body.

Because I’ve done it so many times I don’t actually draw out that triangle when I’m structuring a night fury, but it’s something that I’m always thinking about whilst plotting the important meeting points.

Another thing I tend to do is draw a line down the direct middle of the back when planning out how the pose will look

Here are a few sketches I did recently of my oc Prosper.

You can see in the first sketch that there is a directional line going down the very centre of her back. That was draw before I did any of the actual structured parts of her body.

BUT ALSO!! In the sketch closest to the right, you can see that I very obviously ignored the whole triangle shite with the chest. This is a psa that you do not under all circumstances have to stick to anatomy rules. Sometimes drawing tips do not apply and fuck yeah artistic stylisation man! That ribcage would not at all function on a real animal but does it look awful and horrible and like it should die? Nope! And- in the middle sketch, I did stick to the triangle rule. Example of selectively using drawing tips where they feel appropriate!!

Honestly there are so many points I could make when it comes to drawing these guys that there are just too many for one post. If there’s anything you want me to go specifically into detail on please do feel free to send in asks for it!

[moonriizing]

invisible string | s.jy (18+)

Less than a month before your wedding, you answered a call from someone who introduced himself as Jay Park—the exact name of the man you believed to be your soulmate. In a spur-of-the-moment decision, you embark on a trip to Italy to meet him, believing that it is fate’s way of telling you to fulfill your destiny.

Genre: destination au, mistaken identity, smut Pairing: Sim Jaeyun/Jake Sim x afab!reader Warnings: mature themes, explicit sexual content (18+), MDNI, lying Notes: 21k words. Loosely based on the 1994 film, Only You. I noticed that long fics are uncommon in 5th gen fics here on Tumblr, but I'm shooting my shot with this one. I hope you like it! Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know them personally nor claim they would ever behave in real life like they were portrayed in this story. ALSO, if you see a similar story from a different blog for a different idol, that is me. lol xoxo, cal.

Enjoy~

The flickering candlelight shone on your faces as you, your sister, and Katie huddled around the Ouija board, the air cold from the summer storm raging outside your house. A shot glass, upside down and resting on the board, was the only thing standing between you and whatever spirit you had just summoned.

“Are you here?” Katie whispered, looking around slowly and nervously.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then slowly, unnervingly, the glass inched toward YES.

You all yelped, immediately shushing each other. “Keep your hands on the glass!” your sister hissed, eyes wide. “If we let go, the spirit might get mad.”

Your fingers clung to the glass tighter, your pulse hammering in your throat. Katie exhaled sharply. “Okay, okay. Um… what’s your name?”

The glass trembled beneath your fingertips, dragging across the board. J. Then O. Then N.

“Jon?” you echoed.

“Jonathan?” Katie guessed.

Your sister shushed you both again, her face serious. “Don't interrupt. It might stop talking.”

A chill ran down your spine. You weren’t sure if it was from the candle’s wavering light or the idea that there really was something with you in the room, something unseen but present.

One by one, you and Katie took turns asking questions—How did you die? Are you a good spirit? Will we be rich someday?—each answer making you shriek, then dissolve into nervous giggles. But when the laughter faded, the heavy silence that followed always felt chilling.

Then, feeling reckless, feeling thirteen, you blurted out the one question that had been on your mind for years. “Who’s my soulmate?”

Katie gasped. Your sister shot you a look. “Are you sure you wanna ask that?”

But the glass had already started moving. It slid to J. Then to A. Then to Y.

You barely breathed as you read the letters aloud. “Jay…”

A rush of excitement fluttered in your stomach, getting more nervous. “Do you know his last name?”

The glass stilled for a second. Then it moved again. P. A. R. K.

“Jay Park,” you whispered. You repeated the name to yourself, the way it rolled off your tongue, the way it already felt right. Destiny had spoken. The universe had handed you a name, a direction, a soulmate. And from that night on, you chased it.

You had a comfortable life—a good job, a cozy home, loyal friends, and Sunghoon, your kind, dependable boyfriend. He’d proposed a year into your relationship. Your family adored him, your friends admired him, and you felt… happy, for the most part.

But something was off. The thought of marrying him felt too easy, like a decision you were supposed to want, yet couldn't fully commit to. After the proposal, you confided in Katie, admitting you weren’t sure if you loved him enough to take that step.

“It’s not the right time yet,” you lied, knowing it wasn’t time that was the problem. You loved the idea of stability, the way Sunghoon made everything seem simple, like life would follow a clear, predictable path. But something about that terrified you more than it comforted you.

“Maybe you’re just scared,” Katie had said. “But he’s a good guy, and he loves you. You should talk to him.”

You hadn’t, though. Instead, you bottled it up, relieved that Sunghoon hadn’t told anyone about the proposal yet. You said you’d think about it, and that’s all you’d done for the last few days.

Now, lying in his bed, his arm wrapped around you, you tried to picture forever. It should’ve felt comforting, but it didn’t.

“You’re awake,” he murmured, his breath warm against your neck.

“Yeah. I was just thinking about us,” you replied, almost in a whisper.

His voice fell when he spoke, and guilt twisted inside you. “I know it’s sudden. If you’re not ready, I understand.”

“No, I’m fine. Let’s do it,” you replied briskly, smiling at him and hiding the fact that you couldn’t look him in the eyes.

“Are you sure?” he asked softly, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead. “I don’t want to force this on you.”

Your dearest Sunghoon—so gentle and thoughtful. You forced another smile. “I’m sure, Hoon. Let’s get married.”

The warmth of Sunghoon’s presence should reassure you, but instead, it felt like a tether pulling you further into something you didn’t know how to escape. When he kissed your forehead, you wished you could love him the way he deserved—but the words 'Let’s get married' tasted hollow, even as you forced yourself to say it.

Days passed quickly, and suddenly, the wedding was just twenty days away. The venue, guest list, and reception were all set—only the invitations and the final dress remained. Your mother pushed for a custom gown, but you insisted on RTW, wanting at least one decision to be entirely yours.

At the boutique, Katie and your sister helped you pick dresses. It was fun at first, but with every gown you tried on, the unease in your stomach deepened.

“Okay! This is the tenth one,” your sister called, and as you stepped out, the room fell silent and everyone had their hands over their mouth. 

Curious, you looked at yourself in the mirror and sure enough, you even ended up gasping at the beautiful image reflected back to you. The dress was perfect—elegant, breathtaking. It fit like a dream, like it belonged to someone sure of what they wanted.

“You look stunning!” Katie gushed, hugging you.

Your sister teared up. “My baby sister is getting married!”

But as you stared at yourself, the lace felt suffocating. Your stomach churned. The boutique walls seemed to close in. Your breath turned shallow, ragged. Panic gripped your chest. Then the room began to spin, forcing you to close your eyes.

“Excuse me,” you muttered, pushing past them. You barely made it to the sink before throwing up.

Katie and your sister rushed in after you. “Are you okay?” Katie asked, concern etched in her face.

“You’re not pregnant, are you?” your sister blurted.

“No, of course not,” you said, shaking your head. Your hand instinctively touched the implant in your arm, reassuring yourself it was still there. “No, I’m not.”

“Oh, dear,” your sister sighed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you stepped out of the restroom. “It’s the stress, isn’t it?”

She might have been right. Stress often manifests this way for you. But they didn’t ask again until you were sitting at a nearby coffee shop, sipping a citrus drink to calm your nausea.

“You’re still not sure about this, are you?” Katie asked gently.

You hesitated and they could see it in your eyes. “What’s bothering you?” your sister asked softly.

You sighed. “I don’t know if I’m overthinking or if I really just don’t want this.”

Your sister’s gaze softened. “If you need more time, take it.”

“It’s not time,” you admitted. “It’s him. I love Sunghoon, but I never pictured us getting married. Now that it’s happening, it all feels… wrong.”

Your sister’s expression turned serious. “Then don’t. It’s not just nerves if it doesn’t feel right.”

Katie took your hand. “Talk to him. Whatever happens, choose what makes you happy.”

You promised them that you would, but you couldn’t. Not when you came home to him smiling brightly at you, kissing you tenderly and holding you in his arms as warmly as he always did.

The next day at the office, you were in your boss’s office to get some paperwork signed when the secretary’s phone started ringing. You ignored it at first, knowing it wasn’t your job to answer. But after the third ring, you picked it up, just in case.

“Mr. Lee Heeseung’s office. How can I help you?”

“Hi. Is Heeseung there? He’s not picking up his cell, and I need to talk to him urgently,” came a clear voice on the other end.

You grabbed a pen and pad. “He’s out for lunch right now, probably left his phone behind. But I can pass on the message.”

“That’ll work. Thanks.”

“No problem. Can I get your name, so I can let him know who called?”

“Jay Park. Just tell him I need to chat.”

You froze, fingers tightening around the receiver. “Sorry—what was your name again?”

“Jay. Jay Park.”

The name echoed in your head like a spell conjured straight from the past. Jay Park. Your Jay Park. The one the Ouija board had spelled out ten years ago. The name you had whispered to yourself on sleepless nights, half-laughing at the absurdity of believing in it, half-wishing it meant something.

Somewhere along the way, you had let it fade. You had convinced yourself it was just a childhood whim. But now—out of nowhere—he was real. On the other end of this call.

“Jay Park,” you repeated, voice barely above a whisper.

“Uh… yeah?” He sounded mildly amused. “Listen, I was supposed to meet Heeseung, but I overslept, and now I’ve got a plane to catch. Can you let him know I called?”

“A plane?” you asked, gripping the receiver tighter. “Where are you going?”

“The airport,” he replied casually. “Heading to Venice.”

“Venice?!” you blurted, trying to figure out how far Venice was from where you were. You didn’t know for sure, but you knew it was very far.

He chuckled, probably at your stunned silence. “I know. It’s a shame we couldn’t meet, but unavoidable. Anyway, gotta run. Can I count on you?”

Don’t go yet. “No,” you blurted before quickly correcting yourself. “I mean, yes. Yes, of course.”

“Cool. Thanks a lot. Bye.”

“No. Wait—” But the call had already ended, and all that ever made it back to you was the beeping tone of the call being hung up.

You lowered the phone onto the desk, your hands trembling. Then, in a single breath, you dropped your folder onto Heeseung’s desk and sprinted out of the office.

By the time you reached your own desk, you had already dialed Katie. She picked up after two rings.

“I found him!” you burst out.

“Who?” she asked, sounding distracted.

“Jay Park!”

She paused, then said, “Remind me how I know a Jay Park?”

“Jay Park! The guy from the Ouija board!” you practically shouted, adrenaline coursing through you.

A beat passed before her excited squeal echoed through the phone. “Wait. You’re telling me you found your soulmate Jay Park?”

“Yes! He’s friends with my boss, and he’s heading to Italy—right now!”

“Italy? Why Italy?”

“I don’t know!” you squealed, pacing wildly. Your heart was racing, your skin tingling, your mind whirring in a thousand directions. You squeezed your eyes shut and took a deep breath. When you spoke again, your voice was steadier, but the conviction was the same.

“Katie… I think this is it. The sign. I’m in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“Oh my god. Girl, no,” she deadpanned.

“Katie, my dearest friend, we have been through everything together.”

“Yes, and you are not an impulsive person. Don’t start now.”

But that was the thing, wasn’t it? You had spent your whole life making careful, rational choices. Always choosing the safe, predictable path. And now, standing on the edge of something wildly uncertain, the thought of staying still terrified you more than the thought of running.

“I love you. I’m going to Venice.”

“Wait—”

You hung up, hands shaking as you pulled up flight tickets. The screen loaded painfully slowly, your pulse hammering with every passing second. Maybe this was insane. Maybe you were making the biggest mistake of your life. But something about this just felt right.

But maybe, just maybe, it was exactly what you were meant to do.

dion2

When you were thirteen, you played Ouija with your sister and Katie during a blackout. It was supposed to be just for fun, but when you asked the board for your soulmate’s name, the glass moved—spelling out Jay Park.

As a teenager, you half-believed it. Enough to spend hours searching the internet for a Jay Park that felt like your Jay Park. There were plenty, but what were you supposed to say? Hey, a spirit spelled out your name on my Ouija board. Are we soulmates? It was ridiculous. Katie had laughed at you then, telling you that if it was fate, you wouldn’t have to search—he’d find you eventually.

Now, pacing around her living room, you pointed at her dramatically. “This is it, Kate. The moment you were talking about! I forgot all about him, and now, just when I’m questioning everything, he appears.”

Katie watched you with her arms crossed, unimpressed. “This is madness.”

You stopped mid-step, the playful grin slipping as you turned to her. “I know.” Your voice was quieter now, more uncertain. “But what if this is my chance?”

She sighed, giving you a long, hard look, clearly hoping you’d snap out of it. But when you didn’t, she exhaled sharply and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Fine. But I’m coming with you. I’m not letting you run off to Europe alone for some random guy.”

Joy burst through you, and before she could change her mind, you threw your arms around her. “Good! Great! We’re going to Venice!”

Katie groaned. “I hate you already.”

Later that evening, you came home to find Sunghoon lounging on the couch, feet propped up, half-asleep in front of the TV. He looked up when you walked in, his face lighting up as he beckoned you over. Without a word, he wrapped an arm around you, pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

“How was your day?” he asked.

“Crazy. How was yours?”

He exhaled dramatically. “Oh, you would not believe it. First, I had to assist a seven-hour surgery where the patient suddenly went into cardiac arrest, and while we were reviving him, the head neurosurgeon decided it was the perfect time to grill me about my suturing technique—because, you know, that’s obviously what matters when a guy’s flatlining on the table.”

Your eyes widened. “What the—?”

“Oh, it gets better,” he cut in, shifting so he could see your face properly. “After that, I went to the university to teach a class of third-years, and right in the middle of my lecture, one of the students passed out—just full-on face-planted onto the desk. Turns out he was pulling three all-nighters in a row, living off nothing but caffeine and biscuits. Poor kid woke up to me standing over him and thought he had died and I was some kind of angel.”

You burst into laughter. “No way.”

“I swear.” He nodded solemnly. 

“You do look like an angel though,” you mused, kissing his cheek.

“I spent half an hour convincing him that no, he was not dead, and yes, he should consider eating a proper meal from now on.”

You shook your head, still laughing. “Okay, that’s insane.”

“Not as insane as yours, I bet,” he said, his smile softening as he studied your face. “What happened?”

Your laughter faded as nerves twisted in your stomach. You’d rehearsed this conversation a dozen times on the way home, bracing yourself for anger or heartbreak. But when you turned off the TV and faced him, you saw only warmth in his eyes.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” you started softly, “and I would never want you to think you deserved anything less than the best. But… I don’t think I can marry you, Sunghoon.”

For a moment, silence settled between you. Then, to your surprise, he let out a quiet breath and cupped your cheek. “I know.”

The words hit you like a punch to the chest. “You do?” you whispered.

He nodded. “I’ve known since the moment I asked you.”

“How?”

He took a deep breath and kissed your knuckles. “Because it wasn’t just you. I’ve felt it too—this… feeling that something wasn’t right. I kept brushing it off, thinking maybe I was just overthinking things, but then I saw it in you too. And I realized, no matter how perfect we seemed, something was missing.”

Your throat tightened. “Oh, baby…” You curled into him, pressing your face against his shoulder.

“I love you,” he murmured. “I know that for sure. And I kept hoping that if I proposed, that strange feeling in my gut would go away.”

“Did it?” you asked, though you already knew the answer.

“It got worse.”

A shaky laugh escaped you. “Yeah. I know what you mean.”

Sunghoon exhaled, his fingers brushing your hair. “I don’t regret us. Not for a second. But I think we both deserve more than just… settling.”

You nodded, blinking back tears. “I love you, Sunghoon.”

“Just not enough to spend the rest of your life with me,” he finished for you.

Your silence was answer enough. His lips pressed against your forehead, lingering there, before he pulled back with a sad smile.

“I’m sorry I asked,” he said. “It wasn’t fair to you.”

“I’m sorry I let it get this far,” you admitted. “I almost dragged you into an unhappy marriage.”

His expression softened. “I wouldn’t have been unhappy with you. I just… would have always felt like something was missing.”

“Yeah.” You swallowed hard. “Me too.”

For a long moment, you just sat there, wrapped in each other’s arms, knowing this was one of the last times you would. It was strange, how love could still be there—real and warm—but not enough to hold you together.

Sunghoon let out a slow breath. “So… what do we do now?”

You told Sunghoon you were going to Italy with Katie for some soul-searching, leaving out the part where the ‘soul’ you were searching for might actually be your soulmate. He only nodded, telling you to have fun, and after a calm discussion, you both decided not to call off the engagement just yet—only to cancel the wedding date.

A part of you ached at the thought of what you were leaving behind, but another part felt relieved. You weren’t wrong. This wasn’t where you were meant to be. So that night, you held onto Sunghoon, whispering sweet nothings into the darkness, both of you pretending this wasn’t the beginning of the end.

The next morning, he drove you and Katie to the airport. There were no dramatic goodbyes, no messy emotions, just an exchange of quiet I love you’s that somehow felt like a farewell. He pulled you in for one last hug and a small kiss on your temple.

As you walked away, you resisted the urge to turn around, knowing he was still watching. And as the plane lifted off, a thrill surge through you, something unfamiliar and intoxicating. Fear. Freedom. Possibilities.

Whatever it was, you knew there was no turning back now.

The flight to Italy was long, but you didn’t feel tired at all. Instead, you were giddy, filled with excitement about searching for your soulmate. Your boss had called your story ‘mental’ when you told him, but he still gave you Jay’s Instagram, warning you that Jay mostly kept to himself and rarely used electronics.

“Why do you think he loves Italy so much? It’s the vintage charm. He goes every year,” Heeseung had explained.

You had thanked him for his help, but he waved it off, saying it was the least he could do since this was your first real vacation in the three years you’d been with the company. You even asked for a photo of Jay, but Heeseung couldn’t find one. Jay’s Instagram was just filled with landscape shots and street photography. Apparently, he does photography part-time and had been contributing to the magazine ever since its launch, but his work was mostly behind the lens, not in front of it.

“Shouldn’t you have known if a Jay Park was contributing to your magazine?” Katie had teased.

“Katie, I’m an accountant. I don’t know anything about who’s behind the production side.”

When you landed, you wasted no time pulling up Jay’s profile. A fresh post showed a hotel in Venice, and you and Katie rushed to get there. But speed was impossible in a city of canals, so you settled for soaking in the scenery, capturing snapshots as you floated past elegant bridges and centuries-old buildings.

“Whatever happens with this search, we have to go sightseeing,” Katie gushed. “It's so beautiful I could literally pass out. Look at that gargoyle sculpture thing!”

You giggled, finding it cute how easily impressed she was. A few minutes later, you arrived at the hotel and a porter helped you off the boat, carrying your luggage with a polite inquiry about where you were headed.

At the front desk, Katie immediately asked about Jay Park.

“Jay Park?” the elderly receptionist asked back. In heavily accented and broken English, he said he does not give out information about their guests.

“Look, sir,” Katie persisted, leaning in with determination. “We came all this way to see him. If you could just tell us if he’s here, that would be enough.”

You tugged at her sleeve. “Let’s just check in. His post was only an hour ago—he’s probably still here.”

“Fine,” she muttered. Then, turning back to the receptionist, she added, “But just so you know, my best friend thinks this guy is her soulmate. So, if you’re withholding information, you’re basically interfering with fate.”

“Katie!” you hissed, scanning the lobby to make sure no one overheard.

“The boatman said there are five branches of this hotel. We need to know if we’re even in the right one!” she insisted.

Just then, a smooth voice cut in. “Excuse me, ladies. May I help?”

You both turned to see a handsome Italian man watching with amusement. He had the kind of charm that made heads turn, confident but not overbearing.

“Yes, thank you!” Katie said, exhaling in relief. “Could you please tell this kind old man that my best friend’s soulmate is Jay Park, and we just need to know if he’s here?”

A flicker of amusement crossed the stranger’s face, but he dutifully translated your story to the receptionist. The two of you stood there gawking cluelessly. If he was translating for real or talking crap about you in Italian, you wouldn’t have known. You just trusted this stranger to do your work for you.

After a brief exchange, he turned to you. “It looks like Mr. Park has already left the premises.”

“Left? He was here just an hour ago,” Katie questioned.

“Indeed he was, but he left just a few minutes ago. I’m afraid you missed him.”

The receptionist said something else and the Italian stranger translated smoothly. “He stayed the night and left just after breakfast.” Then, the receptionist held up a key with a number on it, adding one last detail.

“He also said your friend is heading to Rome.”

“Rome?” you repeated, heart pounding.

The elder man nodded with a smile. “Yes, Rome.” 

You thanked them both and got ready to leave, pulling up your phone to see if Jay had a new update. But just as you were stepping out of the building, the Italian man called after you.

“Ladies!” 

You turned, and he approached with an easy smile. “I am under the impression that you need a place to stay for the night.”

You hesitated. “Thank you, but we really need to find this guy.”

“Yes, but Rome is a long way from here.” He gestured around with a flourish. “It’s Venice. Wouldn’t it be a shame to leave without seeing its beauty?”

“He’s right,” Katie said, already walking toward him. “We could use a tour. And a nice handsome local to show us around.”

They exchanged flirtatious looks, and you sighed, giving in. Maybe you could use a little break from the chase. You were tired, anyway.

Andre, as he’d introduced himself, took you on a motorboat to another hotel. The ride was short, the cool breeze skimming over the water as the city lights flickered against the rippling surface. Soon, your luggage was being hauled out of the boat and into an elegant, upscale hotel. You and Katie booked a suite with a Queen-sized bed to share, and the moment she told you to head up first, you wasted no time making a beeline for the bathroom.

A hot shower worked wonders, washing away the fatigue from the long journey. By the time you stepped out, towel-drying your hair, you found Katie sprawled on the bed, giggling at her phone.

“Where’s Andre?” you teased, eyeing her amused expression.

“Oh, he left,” she replied with a sly grin. “Said he had to take care of something at his store.”

“His store?”

“Yep. A dress shop.” She wiggled her brows. “He must be doing pretty well, ‘cause he paid for this room.”

You paused mid-step. “He paid for the room?” Katie hummed, still grinning. You raised an eyebrow. “And you just let him?” 

“It’s fine, he likes me.” She flipped onto her stomach, propping her chin on her hands. “A girl shouldn’t buy her own drinks at the bar, and a lady definitely shouldn’t pay for her room in Italy.”

You snorted. “Sounds like you’re cashing in on ‘pretty privilege.’” You nudged her foot off your lap as you walked to the dresser for the hairdryer.

“Hey, his words, not mine,” she shot back, sticking her tongue out.

Rolling your eyes, you turned on the dryer, running your fingers through your damp strands. “So, has Mr. Andre invited you to dinner yet?”

“No, but,” she sing-songed, “he did say he’d be back at seven to take us to an opera house.”

“Ooh, fancy.”

“Right?” Katie wiggled her eyebrows. “You should come.”

You and Katie spent the rest of the day sightseeing, hopping from one landmark to another, filling your phone with endless snapshots of the city’s charm. You tried a variety of food that left you both stuffed but happy as you wandered through the nostalgic streets. By nightfall, Katie was dressed in a sleek black bodycon dress, ready for the opera. You clapped, approving her choice, and took a few pictures for her Instagram.

She struck a few playful poses, flashing sultry smirks and mischievous winks.

"Are you sure you don’t want to come?" she coaxed, swiping through the pictures. "It might be fun! You never know what might happen."

"I’m fine, Katie," you reassured her. "After all that walking, I’m beat. Besides, I’m sure Andre would appreciate having you all to himself tonight."

She giggled. "You're right, but I’d hate to leave you all alone."

"Just go, hun. And make sure he’s not a creep."

Katie laughed. "If he was, would you come with me?"

You made a show of heading for your suitcase. "Let me grab something nice, and I’ll join—"

"No, no!" she interrupted with a dramatic wave of her hand. "I’m a big girl. I can handle myself."

You smirked. "Seems like you’re the one who wants some alone time with him."

She giggled again, clearly unbothered. "Well, he is cute."

Shaking your head, you plopped back onto the bed, waving her off with a teasing have fun! The moment she left, you flipped on the hotel TV, settling in for a cheesy romcom. It wasn’t the most thrilling way to spend the night, but it did the job of passing the time.

Halfway through the movie, drowsiness crept in. You were just about to doze off when your phone buzzed.

Jay just posted a photo!

You shot up, tossing the remote aside. Heart pounding, you opened the app. A single image filled the screen, accompanied by a cryptic caption: “Two.”

Confused, you studied the photo—a collection of pastel dresses. When you tapped the location, your stomach sank a little. A dress shop in Rome.

“He really is in Rome,” you sighed, standing up to pack your stuff quickly. As soon as the day breaks, it’s GO time for you and Katie.

What were the odds that the dress shop Jay visited was owned by Andre? Maybe 0.10%—unless he secretly owned every boutique in Italy. But as luck would have it, he owned that specific one. Which was how you found yourself cruising to Rome in his sleek convertible, seated in the back while he and Katie shamelessly flirted in front of you.

Not that you were paying much attention—you were too busy scrolling through your phone for any updates.

“How much longer till we get there?” you asked, stretching your legs. Two hours in the car had you itching for a break, so when they pulled over by the roadside, you stepped out for some air. The road stretched endlessly ahead, mostly empty, but the surrounding scenery was breathtaking. Rolling hills, sunlit fields, and rustic vineyards—it was like something out of a postcard.

“Just thirty more minutes,” Andre replied, gesturing toward an approaching crossroad. “If we take this route, we should arrive sooner.”

Katie, who had borrowed your phone to stalk Jay’s feed, suddenly shot up from where she’d been lounging on the grass. “How much sooner?”

“Fifteen, maybe twenty minutes.”

“Perfect, let’s go now,” she declared, shoving the screen toward you. “Our mystery man is at this church.”

Your eyes widened as you grabbed the phone. "Two minutes ago?!"

"I know! Let’s move!"

Your heart pounded, caught between her infectious excitement and a nagging sense of guilt. Katie didn’t have to come along on this ridiculous chase, yet here she was, urging you forward like she always did. Since you were kids, she had been there through every wild idea, every leap of faith, every heartbreak—cheering you on, even when she didn’t share your beliefs about fate and love.

With Katie, you had come to understand that love in friendship was just as powerful, just as unwavering.

“Is this it?” Katie asked as the three of you stood before an imposing church.

“Yes. Basilica of St. Agnes,” Andre confirmed. “Same one in the photo.”

You compared the images, your gaze sweeping over the church’s grand façade. Even after confirming it was the right place, you couldn’t help but be awed by its sheer beauty. Tourists wandered about, snapping pictures, their voices echoing through the open square.

“Something’s off,” Andre murmured.

“What do you mean?” Katie asked.

He pointed at the entrance of the church. “It’s closed. No visitors allowed in.”

Your stomach dropped slightly. “Why?”

“I’ll go find out,” Andre said, walking off in search of an answer.

You and Katie remained where you were, scanning the crowd for any sign of Jay Park—not that you even knew what he looked like. All you had to go on was a name and a vague assumption that he was probably Asian. Yet, even as you studied every possible contender, you couldn’t make a single guess.

“If the church is closed, does that mean he never made it inside?” you asked, glancing at Katie.

“For all we know, he could’ve left ages ago,” she sighed, frustration creeping into her voice.

When Andre returned, he confirmed that the church was undergoing renovations. You longed for a break, but Katie insisted on looking around first. You humored her, even going so far as to ask random Asian men if their name was Jay Park—unsurprisingly, you had no luck.

As lunchtime approached, you finally admitted defeat and suggested heading to a nearby restaurant. Normally, pasta could lift your mood, but today, it tasted bland.

You were starting to feel like coming here was a bad idea. A part of you is still giddy for the adventure but seeing Katie made you feel like you were bothering people for something ridiculous. Even Andre, a complete stranger, had been roped into this wild search, all because of your stubborn belief in fate.

You shook your head, pushing the guilt aside. Instead of feeling like a burden, you reminded yourself to be grateful. Katie was here because she cared. And while Andre’s interest seemed to lie more with her than with you, he had stuck around too.

You ate in silence, scrolling through Jay’s feed again. His photographs were breathtaking. You wondered if he was as beautiful as the images he captured—if he was as delicate as the subjects of his photos. Did he take them at random, or was there meaning behind every frame?

As you mindlessly scrolled, something caught your eye—an old post from last year, taken in Italy.

So he really does come here every year, you realized, your heart racing.

You kept scrolling, and a pattern emerged. The very first picture from that trip was of a hotel in Venice, captioned simply, “1.” The next was a dress shop in Rome—“2.” Then the church you had just visited. The sequence continued, leading to a restaurant, also tagged in Rome. You scrolled back another two years. Different photos, same places.

“He travels in a pattern,” you blurted out.

Katie and Andre stopped mid-flirt to look at you. “Who?”

“Jay. Look at this!” You thrust your phone toward Katie, your excitement bubbling over as you explained the pattern you’d discovered. She caught on immediately.

“So if you’re right, he’ll be at this restaurant next?” she asked, her eyes shining with anticipation. You nodded confidently, feeling a surge of hope.

Katie turned the phone toward Andre. “Do you know this place?”

He read the location and nodded. “I do. It’s a local favorite, about fifteen minutes from here.”

Since it was already past lunchtime, you assumed Jay would go there for dinner. Andre confirmed that the restaurant opened at 3 PM, making it primarily a dinner spot.

After checking into a hotel downtown, you planned to rest before the evening. But you were feeling restless, and instead of lying around, you decided to explore the city. Katie offered to join, but you urged her to take a break. She didn’t argue, which only confirmed what you already knew—she preferred to spend time with Andre. Not that you minded. It was nice to see her having fun, rather than just being dragged around by your whims.

You wandered through charming streets, going in and out of shops, mostly window-shopping but picking up a few souvenirs along the way. Andre was adamant that you visit his dress shop and told you its location. He said he’d call them to let them know you were coming. You felt grateful for his help in this journey, and decided to take him up on it.

The moment you stepped inside, the staff greeted you by name. Within minutes, a few attendants gathered around, treating you with the kind of care reserved for VIP clients. As it turned out, Andre had instructed them to help you pick out something stunning for the evening.

Accepting such generosity from someone you had just met felt daunting, but you were grateful nonetheless. The staff encouraged you to choose your favorites, and you eagerly tried them on, feeling giddy at the prospect of finally meeting Jay.

An hour later, you returned to the hotel with a large box containing a dress far bolder than you’d planned. You pouted as you walked in, immediately catching sight of Andre and Katie looking cozy on the second bed of your suite.

“I really appreciate this, Andre, but why make me go through all those trouble if you were just gonna pick the dress for me anyway?” you asked, feeling both shy and exasperated.

Andre raised his hands in innocence and pointed at Katie. “It was me,” she admitted, grinning. “To be fair, you still got the dress you chose,” she added, looking far too pleased with herself.

“Yes, but not the color!” You huffed. “I almost freaked out when they insisted I take this one.”

Katie sauntered over and lifted the lid, revealing the dress inside—red satin, draped elegantly over white feathers.

It was a really nice dress. The original cream color you had chosen was soft, classic, safe. But in red? It was something else entirely. Vivid. Captivating. Sultry.

Dinnertime arrived before you knew it. Katie helped you get ready, lacing you into the dress and fussing over your makeup. You stared at your reflection, feeling nervous. The dress was daring and bold but your delicate makeup felt like it didn’t match the fire of the outfit.

“What are you talking about? You look amazing!” Katie reassured you. She grinned, adjusting the straps on your shoulders. “The goal is to get noticed, hon. Red will definitely grab his attention. And unless Jay Park is blind, you’ll be the star wherever you go tonight.”

You sat by the window of the restaurant, curiously looking around the quiet place. You are now convinced of Andre’s influence, getting you a table easily even with the long queue outside. You wondered if Jay was already here or if he was outside queueing. 

The thought crossed your mind to message him but that made your stomach twist. You had flown across the world to find him, yet the idea of actually reaching out felt more terrifying than anything else. And what would you even say?

“Hey. I followed you all the way to Italy because I think you're my soul mate.” Cringe.

For now, you were content with just catching a glimpse of him. You’d decide what to do next after that. Surely you’d know if he was the one, right? It wouldn’t be something you could explain, but it should feel right.

“Now where are you, Mr. Park?” you muttered to yourself as you refreshed his feed, heart fluttering when you found his most recent upload—a table filled with food, one that looks similar to your table. He’s here! 

Your fingers tightened around your phone as you examined the photo, scanning for any identifying details. In the corner, you spotted a glimpse of navy blue fabric—a sleeve, barely visible. You leaned back, gaze flickering around the restaurant, searching for a navy blue jacket. Several of them were dressed in similar shades, their jackets blending into the dim ambiance.

Then you looked at the picture again and wondered if instead of him, maybe it was whoever he was with. Maybe he wasn’t alone. With that thought, you could narrow down your search to tables with two people in it.

You sighed, shaking your head at yourself. “I’m a creepy stalker,” you muttered under your breath.

The waiter soon arrived with your order and you took the opportunity to ask him. “Excuse me, but… is there a Jay Park dining here tonight?”

The waiter blinked, then broke into a knowing smile. “Jay Park? Ah, Mr. Park! Yes, he’s here.”

“Are you sure it’s him?” You couldn’t help but question.

The waiter chuckled confidently, “Madam, Mr. Jay Park always makes his reservations a year in advance. He is here tonight. Right there.” He pointed toward a table halfway across the room.

You followed his gesture, and your eyes landed on two Asian men seated together. Both wore navy blue—one in a sharp suit, the other in a button-down shirt. Your breath caught in your throat, but your excitement wavered.

Which one was Jay?

You turned to ask the waiter again, but he was already walking away.

You turned to ask the waiter again, but he was already walking away. Sighing, you picked up your fork, pushing your food around your plate as you stole glances in their direction. From here, you could faintly make out their features.

The one in the suit had medium-length hair, styled in a comma hairstyle that was trendy nowadays. The other had longer hair that reached the nape of his neck. A mullet, maybe? You weren’t sure. They looked similar in build, and from the way they were seated, you couldn’t tell which one was taller.

So one of them was Jay Park. They look great, but now what?

They stayed for a while and you stayed too, mostly because you didn’t know where to go and you were hoping they’d somehow glance your way and you’d manage to take a better look at their faces. But since you only stole glances instead of flat-out staring at them the whole time, you wouldn't have known if either of them noticed you at all.

By the time you finished your fifth glass of wine, a tipsy warmth had spread through your skin. Katie had been checking in through texts, and as you lazily tapped out a response, your fingers moved a little too freely over the screen.

Katie: What do they look like? You: I’ll take a picture of them after paying.

You waved down the waiter for the bill, fumbling slightly with your bag as you reached for your card. But before you could hand it over, the waiter smiled and said, “No need, madam. Mr. Jay Park has already covered it.”

Your stomach plummeted and your head snapped toward their table, pulse racing only to find that was already empty. The chairs were neatly tucked in, the wine glasses half-finished. They were gone.

He paid for your food. He noticed you. How can he pay for your food and NOT talk to you at all? That’s just ridiculous. 

Without thinking, you bolted out of the restaurant, the cool night air hitting you like a shock. Your eyes darted wildly over the crowd, searching for navy blue amidst the crowd of tourists and locals. And then, you spotted him—the man in the suit, walking ahead in an unhurried pace.

“Hey.” you called out to him, but he was too far to hear your voice over the noise of the city. You pushed forward, weaving through people, determined to catch up.

As you did, your heel got caught in a crack in the pavement. You wobbled, nearly toppling over, cursing under your breath as you yanked at your foot. The damn shoe wouldn’t budge, and he was getting farther away, disappearing into the sea of moving figures.

“Fuck it.” you grunted, kicking your foot free, abandoning the shoe entirely as you took off barefoot, chasing after him.

The uneven pavement pricked at the soles of your feet, but you didn’t care. You ran and ran, until finally—he was gone. The streets stretched before you, unfamiliar and strange. The city surrounding you was lively, but all you could feel was the disappointment and defeat sinking into your chest.

He was right there. Just almost within reach, but you’d been too shy to approach him, now he was gone. What was the point of all this, then? Did you really come all the way here to find him, and assumed it would all magically fall into place?

Your foot throbbed where the missing shoe should have been, and that reminded you that it was a shoe your sister had gifted you. The thrill of the chase had fizzled into something hollow, leaving you standing there, lost in a city that no longer felt exciting. You felt ridiculous. Heartbroken over someone you had never even met.

With a sigh, you slumped down onto the edge of a fountain and pulled out your phone, fingers trembling as you dialed Katie. It didn’t take her long to find you.

“We were close by. What happened? Where’s your shoe?” she asked, her worried gaze sweeping over you.

You exhaled shakily. “He’s gone.”

“Who, Jay? Did you meet him?” she asked, but you shook your head, staring blankly ahead.

That’s when a man approached you, asking in Italian if you were alright. He was holding your abandoned shoe with a smile playing on his lips. Amidst the words you didn’t understand, you caught a chuckle as he referred to you as Cinderella.

“Your shoe!” Katie exclaimed at the man. “Thank you, sir! Thank you!”  she beamed, while you remained dazed.

The man’s eyes lit up. “Ah, finally, someone who speaks my tongue,” he said, kneeling beside you. “Allow me?”

“Thank you,” you mumbled, barely paying attention. He carefully pulled out a handkerchief and began wiping your foot, brushing away the dirt from your reckless chase.

“My, is that you, Prince Charming?” Katie teased, making the guy chuckle.

“You look gorgeous, by the way. Mind giving me your name?” he asked smoothly.

His question went past you as your turned to Katie. “Should I just DM him?” you murmured, anxiety creeping into your voice.

“Honestly, I was wondering what was taking you so long to do just that,” she replied, smirking.

“You’re right. That would’ve saved us a lot of trouble,” you sighed, pulling out your phone and staring at the screen like it held all the answers.

Katie nudged your shoulder. “So what happened at the restaurant?”

“Well…” You hesitated, replaying the events in your head. “He paid for my meal. That has to mean he noticed me, right? But if he noticed me, why didn’t he talk to me? Was he just out there paying for everyone’s dinner tonight?”

“Hey, I don’t mean to interrupt,” Prince Charming interjected, “but may I ask how long you’re staying in the city?”

You didn’t look up from your screen, leaving Katie to respond. “Not long. We’re here looking for someone.”

“Would you tell me his name? Maybe I know him. The Asian community isn’t that big in places like this.”

Katie shrugged. “I don’t know… He’s a tourist, not a local.”

“Oh, I’m a tourist too, so—” he started, but you suddenly stood up.

“I did it. Let’s go. I can’t be here when he replies. I’d freak out,” you blurted, grabbing Katie’s wrist and dragging her toward the car. “Oh! Thanks a lot, by the way!” you called over your shoulder, offering him a quick bow.

“Wait!” He rushed after you, stepping in front of the car door to block your way. “I didn’t catch your name.”

You reached for the handle, unimpressed. “I didn’t say it.”

“Well, I’d love to know it.”

“Thanks for finding my shoe, sir, but I really have to go.”

His lips twitched. “Then at least tell me who you’re looking for. If I can’t have your name, I’ll take that instead.”

“Who is it then? The guy you’re looking for? I’ll take that if you can’t tell me yours,” he insisted. 

You sighed in frustration, staring straight at him. You gasped when you realized who he was. “It’s you.”

He backed away slightly. “You know me?”

“No, not really, but…” You swallowed, trying to steady yourself. “At the restaurant. I saw you there.”

A smile curled his lips, his sharp cheekbones lifting with amusement. “Yeah, I saw you there too.”

Your breath hitched, exhilaration coursing through you. “I’m actually looking for Jay Park,” you admitted, pulse racing. “He paid for my dinner.”

His jaw dropped for a split second before he quickly recovered. “That’s funny because…” He let out a short laugh. “I’m Jay Park.”

Your knees nearly buckled. The rush of wine, adrenaline, and disbelief swirled together, making your head spin. Before you could stumble, his arms caught you, steadying you on your feet. His hands were warm against your skin, his eyes wide with concern.

“Whoa, are you okay?”

You swallowed hard, gripping his forearm for balance as you stared at him—really stared at him. “Yeah,” you murmured, still breathless. 

“It’s just… I’ve been looking for you since I got here.” Your voice wavered. “As a matter of fact, I’ve been searching for you way longer than that.”

Jake felt a pang of guilt for lying, but the truth could wait. If he told you now, you’d get in that car and disappear from his life forever. He’ll just tell you the truth later.

So he smiled, tilting his head slightly. “Well,” he chimed, “I guess you found me.”

Rome at night was magnificent, and you were reveling in it as you walked the cobblestone streets with Jake, who you now believed to be Jay. You had no idea of his pretense, but you were on cloud nine, convinced you had found what you came for. He was everything you had dreamed of, and considering he had found you while you were chasing someone else, you couldn't help but believe fate was behind the whole thing.

“Accountant? That’s cool. I work for a fashion brand.”

You hummed. “Let me guess… shoes?”

He chuckled. “What gave it away?”

You shrugged. “I’m not sure, but you were pretty delicate with my foot tonight, and you even mentioned it wasn’t the right size. That was true, by the way. These were gifts, and they’re a size too small.”

“They look beautiful on you either way,” he chimed.

You scowled at him, though you couldn’t quite suppress your smile.

“And I’m a photographer for the brand,” he added. “Not a designer or anything.”

“Photographer, huh? Yeah, I heard you were.”

Jake stepped over a short fence enclosing a neatly trimmed lawn, then reached out to help you over. You hesitated for a second before taking his hands, letting him pull you in.

“Please tell me you don’t have this weird fixation on…” You paused, pursing your lips before adding, “…feet.”

He laughed loudly, tossing his head back. “For a first date, that’s a pretty big question.”

You chuckled. “This is a date?”

“I hope so,” he murmured, tilting his head as he studied you. A warmth spread through your chest. “And to answer your question,” he continued, smirking, “no. Some feet are pretty, but no, that���s not my thing.”

“I see. Good to know.” You sat down on the lawn, and he followed suit, stretching his legs out beside you.

Jake propped himself up on his hands, then nudged you lightly. “Come here.”

You leaned in without hesitation, resting your head on his shoulder. The night sky stretched vast and deep above you, the stars hidden, but the moon glowing bright. Wisps of clouds drifted lazily across it, painting soft streaks in the dark.

“That’s pretty,” you murmured, admiring the waning moon.

“It is,” he agreed. “But it’s prettier in Positano. By the beach, with the stars and the sea breeze.”

“You’ve been there?” you asked, instinctively leaning closer to his warmth.

“Yeah, once. A long time ago, during a short break in college. I’ve come here several times since, but I never really went back there; I was mostly just here for work.”

“I see. Your Italian is really good.”

“Well, I come here often. One of our designers lives in Rome. He holds a showcase every year, and I always come to take the photos.”

“So… you’re busy?”

He shook his head. “Not anymore. The show was earlier today. I’m officially off the clock.”

You hummed in acknowledgment, letting the quiet settle for a moment. Jake relaxed beside you, resting his cheek against your hair.

“Take me to Positano,” you murmured, trying to sound confident despite the shyness in your chest.

He hummed, nuzzling into your hair slightly. “I’ll take you tonight if you want me to.”

You scoffed, nudging him playfully. “Tomorrow, maybe?”

“Tomorrow then.”

You smiled to yourself, but a thought tugged at the back of your mind, prompting you to sit up and turn toward him. “Right. Earlier tonight, at the restaurant.”

Jake straightened slightly. “What about it?”

“You paid for my food. Did that mean you noticed me?”

He exhaled, a low chuckle escaping his lips. “Are you serious? Of course, I noticed you. Ever since you walked in, actually. I could barely keep my eyes off you.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “Then why didn’t you talk to me? I was eyeing you all night.”

He ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head. “If I had known that, I would’ve approached you. But I was with a friend, and I didn’t want to disturb you. Plus… I didn’t think you’d be alone all night.”

“Why is that?”

Jake shrugged, his lips lifting into a smile as he gazed at you with warmth and admiration in his eyes. “You were too beautiful. It was hard to believe you were alone in that restaurant.”

You couldn’t help the grin that formed on your lips. “Well, we should be grateful you picked up my shoe then.”

“I know,” he chuckled, exhaling like he had narrowly escaped something. “I was actually on my way back to the restaurant to see if I could talk to you, but then I found you running around and leaving a shoe behind like Cinderella.”

You giggled, shaking your head. “Quite a story.”

“One for the books, if you ask me,” he agreed, smiling, his dreamy eyes fixed on you. 

You met his gaze, caught between feeling self-conscious and utterly seen, as if he could stare at you forever. And the way he looked at you like you were something precious, something to be cherished made your heart swell.

“Do you believe in fate?” he asked, his voice low and thoughtful.

You snorted. “Are you seriously asking me that? Me, the person who flew all the way here because I believed in fate a little too much?”

You had told him everything: the Ouija board, the search, how you had followed him just because you’d answered a call that wasn’t meant for you.

“Touché,” he shrugged, lips curving into a smile. They looked so full, so inviting, even under the moonlight. You stared at them for a second too long, wondering if they were as soft as they appeared.

“Would you like to try and see?” he asked, catching your gaze on his lips.

Your breath hitched. “Huh?”

Heat rushed to your cheeks at his indirect invitation, and before you could compose yourself, he tapped his bottom lip. You instinctively bit your own in an attempt to mask your shyness, but it only revealed your hesitation.

Then he leaned in. His intention was obvious, with your lips set as his goal. You could tell him no, dodge, even make a move to refuse, but you didn’t. Instead, you leaned forward, meeting him halfway.

Your lips brushed, then pressed together, soft—just like you imagined they’d be. But as he moved, his kiss grew firm, insistent, claiming yours in a slow, deep pull that sent warmth coursing through your veins. Instinctively, your hands found his neck, fingers curling at his nape as you surrendered to the moment, eyes fluttering shut.

When he finally pulled away, you opened yours to find his beautiful brown ones gazing right back at you. He smiled, and your heart swelled.

“Hi,” you blurted out, brain momentarily short-circuiting.

Jake laughed, then stole a brief kiss—quick, playful—before pulling you back into his arms.

It was past midnight when you finally parted, lingering at your door, neither of you willing to let go. His fingers brushed against yours even as he talked about tomorrow, and you kept saying "yes" to Positano, over and over, as if the promise of it wasn’t already sealed between you.

If it weren’t for Katie scolding you for leaving the door wide open, you might have spent the entire night just standing there, lost in each other’s eyes.

“See you in the morning,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead as you rested your head against his chin.

“See you in the morning, Jay.”

You felt him freeze at the name, his expression flickering for a split second before he smiled, saying nothing. Instead, he waved, taking a few steps backward before finally turning to leave.

As soon as the door clicked shut, the giddy rush bubbled over, and you twirled in place, unable to contain it.

Katie chuckled from the couch. “You look obscenely happy.”

“Thanks. I am,” you admitted, a proud smile stretching across your face as you stepped into the bathroom for a quick wash, the warmth of his kiss still lingering on your skin.

The morning was beautiful from your window, but sadly, you were set to leave Rome today for the beaches of Positano. You were excited and it seemed like Katie was too because she was the first to drag her stuff out of the room. 

A hotel attendant helped with your luggage, leading you down to the parking area, where two sleek cars and two equally gorgeous men were waiting.

“Good morning,” Jake greeted, opening his arms just as you ran into them. “Are you excited?”

“Can’t wait.”

He chuckled and tapped your nose affectionately. Glancing over at the other car, Jake asked if they were ready too. Andre raised a thumb in response.

“We’ll be right behind you,” he told Jake, who waved before ushering you into the car.

The ride was lively, filled with music and wind whipping through your hair. Jake’s camera rested in the center console, and when you asked if you could use it, he handed it over without hesitation, walking you through the settings. Once you got the hang of it, you turned the lens on him, snapping pictures as he drove.

Noticing this, he started posing dramatically, making you giggle.

“You look great, Jay,” you commented, flipping through the shots.

“I’ll take pictures of you later,” he promised, reaching over to press a kiss to your hand.

Positano unfolded before you in a breathtaking display—lush greenery, vibrant cliffs, and the sparkling sea stretching beyond them. Compared to Rome, it was quieter, more provincial, yet no less stunning. Jake mentioned your hotel was right by the beach, and after a few more winding roads, you arrived. The driveway was expertly lined with tall trees on each side, giving it a majestic entrance.

“Food!” Katie declared the moment she spotted the hotel restaurant. “Great, because I’m starving.” She grabbed your wrist and dragged you along, leaving the men to handle the check-in and your luggage.

You ordered a feast, and before long, Jake and Andre joined you at the table, both noticeably lighter without their bags.

“Miss Destiny,” said Andre, referring to you by the nickname he’d coined for you as he sat next to Katie. “I hope you don’t mind if Katie and I share a room.”

You cocked an eyebrow at Katie, who smiled sheepishly. “Oh, come on. You have Jay,” she reasoned, pouting. “You won’t be alone.”

You met Jake’s gaze, and he gave you a small nod. “If you’d rather have your own room, I can book another,” he offered.

“No, it’s fine,” you replied, even as the thought of sharing a room with him so soon made you nervous.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his hand resting lightly over yours on your thigh.

You placed your free hand on his arm, offering him a reassuring smile. “Yes. I don’t mind.”

“Alright.”

The food was, as expected, incredible. Katie had picked the restaurant’s best-selling dishes, earning her praise from both Jake and Andre. You were especially impressed by how familiar Jake was with the cuisine and language. Despite his earlier claim that he only visited Italy for work, he seemed to really like it here.

Later, as you wandered the beach together, he continued to share small facts about the seashells you picked up, his camera never straying far as he snapped random pictures of you. You listened intently, amused by his little trivia moments.

“That one’s different,” he commented, taking a shell from your hand for a closer look. “It’s not usually found here. Must’ve been carried in by the current.”

“It looks like you,” you mused, holding it up beside his face for comparison.

He grinned. “How?”

“The color. It’s got the same deep brown as your eyes. This shell is you, Jay.”

Jake laughed, taking the shell and tucking it into his pocket. “I’ll keep it then. Souvenir from the best vacation of my life.”

You scoffed playfully. “You’re such a flirt, Mr. Park.”

“That’s because you’re pretty, Miss,” he shot back, pulling you snugly against his side.

You giggled, slipping your arm around his waist as you continued walking, the waves crashing softly in the distance.

At some point, you managed to steal his camera again, snapping pictures of him as he stood against the backdrop of the sea. He looked regal through the lens, but even the camera couldn’t quite capture what you saw in real time. He was breathtaking, like the sea breeze and the view right before you. He was gorgeous and golden, like the sun that was setting down the horizon.

“Look,” he said suddenly, pointing toward the sunset as he stopped in his tracks. You followed his gaze, taking in the golden hues painting the sky.

Without thinking, you leaned into his chest, letting his warmth wrap around you as silence settled between you. None of you were talking, tired from goofing around all afternoon and just utterly speechless by this—the quiet, the beauty, the understanding between two people who had stumbled into something that felt impossibly perfect.

Yet, in the back of your mind, a small fear was lurking. This moment felt too good, too perfect, and you didn’t want it to end. You wished you could stay here forever, pressed against him, watching the sky change colors until night fell and the sun eventually rose again.

“Would you be surprised to hear that I might be falling in love with you?” Jake asked, his voice soft, almost hesitant—like he hadn’t meant to say it aloud.

“Yes,” you admitted, tilting your head slightly. “But it would make me happy to hear it too.”

His heartbeat was steady beneath your cheek. “I like being here,” you murmured. “Right by your side. It feels right. It feels good. And I don’t think I’m gonna let anyone take this away.”

Jake pressed a kiss to the top of your head, making you look up. On impulse, you reached for him, capturing his lips in a soft kiss.

“Would you stay?” you whispered against his mouth.

He lifted your chin, deepening the kiss just enough to seal his answer before pulling back slightly. “I’ll be wherever you are,” he murmured, brushing his thumb along your jaw. “Wherever you want me to be.”

And so, as the last traces of sunlight dipped below the horizon, you kissed again, understanding, without needing to say it, that this moment wasn’t just fleeting. It was the start of something inevitable. Something fated.

Days with Jake blurred into a dream of sun-drenched adventures and stolen kisses. You went boating, scuba diving, hiking, and cruising along the coast in Andre’s small yacht. If you weren’t taking pictures of each other, you were tucked away somewhere cozy, his lips moulding with yours. In the privacy of your suite, you were tangled together beneath the sheets, talking about each other’s lives, strengths and fears, childhood memories, favorite songs, and the kind of futures you had always imagined. Five days in Positano had you realizing you had never told so much about yourself to anyone until now. 

He photographed you endlessly, claiming the camera loved you almost as much as he did. And you, oblivious to the truth, still believed he was Jay Park—the person fate had written into your story.

Jake, on the other hand, found it harder to maintain the lie. The closer you got, the heavier it sat on his chest. He told himself it shouldn’t matter. A name was just a name. But you spoke about destiny with such conviction, as if the universe had carefully arranged every thread of your lives to lead you here. You still believed that thread was tied to Jay, but Jake wanted to believe it was tied to him. Maybe it was. Maybe fate had simply used another name to bring you together. He wanted to believe that when you eventually find out, you’d understand. 

But when you looked at him like this, like you were certain that he was the Jay Park of your dreams, he wasn’t so sure anymore. What would happen if you found out?

“Jay, where are we going?” you asked as he led you through the dense bushes.

“You’ll see.”

Faint orchestral music drifted through the air, growing louder with each step. Beyond the hedge, golden lights shimmered, illuminating a grand estate that looked more like a palace than a house. Silhouettes of elegantly dressed guests moved through the gardens, their laughter mixing with the music.

You tightened your grip on Jake’s hand. “Please tell me we have an invitation for this.”

He barely glanced at you before chuckling. “Of course not. We’re not Italian socialites.”

Your jaw dropped. “We’re gatecrashing?”

He pressed a finger to his lips, eyes twinkling with mischief. “We’re just a couple of lost tourists who took a wrong turn looking for the bathroom.”

“Yeah, no. I’m going back.”

“Come on, where’s your sense of adventure?”

“Oh, it’s currently having tea with my common sense. Let me go.”

But Jake didn’t let go. He just grinned and kept walking, tugging you along with him.

You exhaled sharply, scanning the lavish scene. “I have a feeling you’ve done this before.”

“For once, you’re wrong,” he said, too cheerfully. “This is my first time.”

Your head snapped toward him. “Wait—so you don’t have an exit plan?”

“Have you heard of spontaneity? You should try some.”

You scoffed. How dare he say that to you, of all people. “I literally flew to Italy on a whim.”

Jake straightened his tie and smoothed his jacket. You did the same, thanking the fact that you were both out for a fancy dinner tonight and your nice clothes are helping you blend in easily with the crowd.

With an exaggerated bow, he held out his arm. “Welcome to the Baron’s Ball, my lady. Shall we?”

Despite yourself, you giggled, slipping your arm through his. “Lead the way, my lord.”

Inside, the grandeur was almost dizzying. Gowns and suits shimmered beneath the glow of a massive chandelier. There was an actual orchestra playing a waltz, and while some guests lingered by the edges of the room, others twirled effortlessly at the center.

Jake maneuvered through the crowd with ease, nodding and offering brief greetings as though he belonged here. The casual confidence made you feel a little less like an imposter—until he steered you straight toward the dance floor.

“What are you doing?” you hissed under your breath.

He only squeezed your hand in reassurance. “We can’t pass up a chance to dance at a swanky party,” he whispered in your ear, kissing the side of your head right after and leaving you warm and nervous.

“Good evening,” a passing gentleman greeted, and Jake nodded smoothly in return.

“Good evening,” he replied, his posture relaxed, his charm effortless.

That’s when you realized—he’d been doing this all night. A nod here, a smile there. Enough to make you look like you belonged. And somehow, against all logic, it was working.

The moment you reached the dance floor, Jake pulled you into position, guiding you effortlessly into the same graceful stance as the other couples. One hand settled gently on your waist, the other laced with yours, while you rested your free hand on his shoulder, your thumb unconsciously stroking the nape of his neck.

“Relax, love,” he murmured, his lips brushing your ear. “You got me. We’ll be fine.”

His voice was a melody of its own, putting you at ease. You closed the gap between you, pressing your ear on his chest as you swayed. Just like how it had always been ever since you met him, you felt the fulfillment of belonging to something, to someone. It put your heart at ease.

You had been right to book that flight, and fate had been generous to let you pick up that call. Everything in your life had felt uncertain for so long, but now, with him here, it was as if the universe had finally put things into place, you were right where you were supposed to be. 

“Is this destiny?” he asked. You lifted your head, smiling as you met his gaze. He was already smiling too, cheekbones lifting and eyes crinkled at the corners.

“It is,” you said softly. “Because if it isn’t, then it shouldn’t feel this right, Jay.”

His smile faltered for just a second—so brief you might’ve imagined it—before he masked it with a kiss to your forehead. “I’m just asking because I’m not big on destiny and soulmates and all that stuff. But a friend told me that everything you do, everywhere you go, everyone you meet, you meet them for a reason. The reason was destiny. Do you think so too?”

You nodded. “I always have. I believe people are placed in our lives on purpose. Every friend we’ve lost, every enemy we’ve made, every person we’ve loved and stopped loving. Even the stranger at the grocery store or the student scrolling through his phone on the train—we were meant to cross paths. Sometimes we play a role in their lives, sometimes we don’t. But every meeting happens because it was supposed to. And we begin in a random place, navigating through people and relationships and places until we find where we belong.”

“That’s beautiful.”

You smiled, tiptoeing to press a soft kiss to his lips. “It’s even more beautiful now that I’ve found you. This… this is where I belong.”

His arms tightened around you. “I feel the same,” he whispered. “Does that mean everything that lead up to this moment doesn’t matter anymore? I mean, we’re here now. We’ve found each other.”

The music shifted before you could think of a response. People started cheering and heading for the dance floor, cramping the space. Someone bumped into you, throwing you off balance, but Jake caught you immediately.

Your heart pounded as you took in the scene. Everyone was moving into formation. Everyone except for you two.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” you muttered. The music had paused, and the dancers stood poised, waiting for the cue to begin. You glanced around anxiously. “Should we leave?”

Jake only grinned. “Relax. It’s a cotillion. Just blend in.”

Before you could argue, the music resumed—and the dancers sprang into motion with eerily coordinated formations and synchronized steps. Jake twirled you, laughing at the ridiculousness of it all.

“Dance, love! Dance like this is your last night in Italy!” he beamed.

With a breathless laugh, you gave in, mirroring his exaggerated, silly dance moves. The embarrassment melted away in the absurdity of it, but it wasn’t long before you noticed heads turning. People were starting to watch you.

“The guy in the red suit,” Jake said under his breath, “I think he’s a guard. Or a butler. Or something.”

“What?” You followed his gaze and spotted a man flipping through what looked like a guest list. Your stomach dropped.

Jake leaned in. “When he comes this way, we run for that door.”

Your head whipped toward the exit he was pointing to. “Wait, that’s not where we came from—”

“It’s a better escape route.”

“Oh god,” you breathed, eyes darting back to the guard. He was looking right at you now, brows furrowed in suspicion. You didn’t wait for Jake’s signal—you grabbed his hand and bolted.

“Oi! Hey!” a voice called out behind you.

Jake abruptly stopped, dropping to his knees. “Shoes.” He tugged at your heels. “They’ll slow you down.”

Cursing, you kicked them off, barely giving him time to grab them before you both took off again.

Shouts rang out behind you, the man barking orders in rapid Italian, but you didn’t look back. You tore through the grand entrance, past a sprawling garden, and straight toward the massive gates.

The guards outside barely had time to register the sight of two guests sprinting into the night before you were already gone.

You didn’t stop running until you were far from the venue, your laughter mixing with Jake’s as you both collapsed by the seawall. Breathless and giddy, he hoisted himself onto the ledge, patting the spot beside him in invitation.

You sank down next to him, still panting, and leaned against his side for support.

“You good?” he asked, his arm coming around you, his fingers kneading gently at your shoulder.

“Yeah. You?”

“Better than ever.” He grinned, and you both broke into laughter again—genuine, breathless, and a little bit wild.

After a moment, you straightened, turning to look at him. His face was still alight with exhilaration, his eyes gleaming under the dim streetlights. “You’re a bad influence,” you murmured.

His grin widened. “I know.” Then, after a breath—“Can I kiss you?”

You glanced at his lips. “I thought you’d never ask.”

He closed the gap between you in a kiss that was long and slow, lingering like the adrenaline still thrumming in your veins. He kissed you until neither of you could tell if your lightheadedness was from the run or from this—whatever this was between you. And by the time you pulled apart, breathless and undone, you were sure of one thing.

You didn’t regret a single second of it.

When you arrived at the hotel, the receptionist greeted him as Mr. Sim. You frowned, catching his sleeve as the elevator doors closed behind you. “Mr. Sim? I thought you were Mr. Park.”

He barely looked at you, too busy tugging you flush against him. “Probably another Asian guest. To these people, we all look the same.”

You laughed because, knowing him, he was probably right. But before you could dwell on it, his lips were on yours, swallowing any thought that didn’t involve him. You barely made it to his suite before your hands were everywhere—fingers tangled in his hair, nails scratching at the fabric of his shirt as he pressed you against the door, kissing you like he was starving.

You knew where this was going, had known it since the first time his lips brushed against yours. But even as you gasped against his mouth, even as he trailed kisses down your neck, you forced yourself to slip from his grasp, your hands still lingering on his shoulders.

“There’s something you should know,” you murmured, breathless. His fingers were already tracing the curve of your waist, sending shivers down your spine. “It might change things.”

He exhaled a laugh, resting his forehead against yours. “I don’t think anything you say can change how I feel about you.”

Your chest tightened, his words making your resolve waver. You kissed him, long and deep. His mouth traced a path down your jaw, nipping at your pulse, making you shudder. “The truth is…”

“Hm?” he hummed, lips brushing your collarbone.

“I’m…” You cupped his face, forcing him to look at you. “…engaged.”

Everything stopped. His grip on your hips tightened, his heavy-lidded eyes snapping open. “You’re what?”

“I’m engaged. I was supposed to be married in a week.” You exhaled, searching his face.

He backed away just enough to take a good look at you. He was still holding your arm when he asked, “Then why are you a thousand miles from home looking for a soulmate in a complete stranger?”

“I don’t know! I didn’t want to get married. And I—I answered your call by accident. It was meant for my boss, Lee Heeseung. But when you told me your name… I don’t know, I just felt like I had to find you.” Your fingers traced his cheek. “I thought maybe it was fate.”

His silence made your heart pound, but then he kissed you again, deeper, hungrier—like he had decided for himself what fate meant. He lifted you effortlessly, carrying you toward the bed as his lips claimed every inch of skin he could reach. You arched against him, his hand slipping underneath you to unzip your dress.

“That doesn’t change anything?” you asked.

His mouth curved against your shoulder. “If we found each other… isn’t that all that matters?”

You nodded, pushing your hand inside his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against yours. “Well, yeah. What could be worse than that?”

He flashed a grin before he kissed you breathless, pressing you into the mattress. His hands roamed lower to palm your breast, setting your skin on fire, but just as you started to lose yourself in him, he mumbled against your lips, “My name’s not Jay Park.”

In a daze from the sensation of his kisses and his touches, you couldn’t quite process what he just said. “You're not?”

“My name is Jake Sim.”

Suddenly, clarity crashed down on you. “WHAT?!” You shoved at his chest, but he barely budged.

He groaned, laughing breathlessly. “Oh, come on. You just said none of it matters!”

“Yes, except for that!” With a burst of strength fueled by sheer outrage, you pushed him off of you. He tumbled onto the floor with a thud.

He groaned, rolling onto his back. “Wow, you’re strong.”

“You lied to me?” you asked, appalled like you couldn’t believe he was capable of doing that.

“Hey, it’s just a name.”

You stood up angrily, grabbing your purse, coat, and shoes from where they were scattered across the room. “You’re a liar. A jerk! A horrible, horrible person!”

“Hey, calm down,” Jake tried, reaching for you, but you shoved his hands away.

“Don’t touch me!”

He held up his hands in surrender. “Okay. Alright. I lied. But only about my name. The rest of it was true. All of it. My dreams, my hopes, how I feel about you... all of it. My dreams, my photography, I didn’t lie about any of those.”

“You lied about the one thing that mattered most!” you snapped.

Jake exhaled, shoulders sagging. “Come on, love—”

“Don't call me that.”

“I thought you liked it.”

“I did when I thought you were Jay.”

His jaw tensed as he followed you to the door. “Jay isn’t even the guy you think he is. Be real. He’s a stranger. You don’t know him.”

“You would be a stranger too if you hadn’t lied about being him.” You pressed the elevator button, glaring at him. “Do you even have a conscience?”

He stepped closer. “Just—please. Give me a chance. How do you even know he’s the man you’re looking for?”

“I’ll figure that out myself.” You stepped into the elevator and pulled the steel gate shut before he could follow. “Why did you even do that?”

Desperation flickered in his eyes. “I did it because I’m in love with you!”

You scoffed, completely, utterly frustrated and exasperated. “And you expect me to believe that? What am I stupid?”

“Baby!”

“Leave me alone!” you hollered, just as the elevator door closed.

You pounded on Katie’s door with trembling fists, your vision blurred by tears. When it finally opened, she stood there, bleary-eyed from sleep, Andre peering over her shoulder. You didn’t care. Pushing past them, you collapsed onto the couch by the window, sobbing uncontrollably.

Katie rushed to you, her hands rubbing soothing circles on your back. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

“Let’s go home, Katie.” Your voice cracked between sobs. “You were right. This was madness—coming here, chasing after some ghost, believing in stupid fate. All of it. This is the worst trip of my life.”

Katie glanced at Andre, silently asking him to give you both space. He understood and slipped out without a word. She sat beside you, offering a glass of water once your sobs quieted.

“What happened? Where’s Jay?”

You let out a hollow laugh. “He’s not Jay, Katie. He lied. His name is Jake Sim.”

Her brows furrowed. “What? Why would he do that?”

You shot up from the couch, pacing the room. “Because he’s a terrible person, that’s why! He probably thought this was all some joke. Like he could just lie his way into my bed and get away with it. Well, guess what? His honesty was five days too late! He wasted my time, my effort, everything! I will never believe in fate or destiny or love or any of that crap ever again!”

Katie sighed, taking the glass from your shaking hands. “Are you sure?”

“Yes!” you snapped.

Her voice softened. “Really? You won’t believe in fate or destiny? And love too?”

The words hit sent a pang in your chest. You sat back down, burying your face in your hands. Your whole life, you had believed in love and destiny. Every good thing that happened to you, you thanked fate. Every bad thing, you told yourself it was leading you to something better. You believed in love because your parents had shown you it was real, because you grew up in a home where love was the foundation of everything. And now, just because one stranger had broken your heart, you were ready to throw all of that away?

Katie’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you close. “Maybe this is destiny too,” she murmured. “Getting hurt is part of everyone’s growth. What he did was wrong, and he was a jerk for doing it, but don’t let him be the reason you stop believing in the things that make you who you are.”

You sniffed, wiping at your damp cheeks. “Let’s go home, Katie.”

She squeezed your hand. “Okay. We’ll go home.”

The next morning, Katie was alone in the hotel room, packing up both your things and hers for your flight home. She had taken it upon herself to gather all your belongings from the room you had shared with Jake, finding it empty when she arrived. You had left early with Andre to book tickets, determined to get out of Italy as soon as possible, leaving Katie to clean up.

She was nearly finished when a sharp knock sounded at the door. At first, she thought it was you or Andre, but when she opened it, she was greeted by a massive bouquet of flowers. Katie sighed, immediately swatting it away, already knowing who was behind it.

“What are you doing here, Mr. Not-Jay-Park?”

Jake peeked over the bouquet. “Katie. Is she here?”

“She’s not.”

Jake exhaled sharply. “Can you tell me where she is?”

Katie scoffed. “She’s booking tickets for our flight home.”

“You’re leaving already?” His voice dropped slightly.

“Yes. Early tomorrow. But if she finds a flight for today, she’ll take it. The sooner we leave, the faster she forgets about the jerk she met in Italy.”

“Come on, Katie. Not you too,” he pleaded. Katie just scoffed louder and started closing the door, but Jake wedged his hand against it. “Okay, I know. I know I messed up. But can you please hear me out?”

“You’re not worth my time, Jake.”

“I get that,” he sighed, pushing his way inside. “But I’m begging you. Please listen to me because she won’t.”

Katie folded her arms across her chest. “Fine. Three minutes.”

“Great.” He set the bouquet on the table. “The thing is… I’m in love with her.”

Katie let out a sharp, mocking laugh. “Are all guys like this? Willing to say anything to get laid?”

“Hey, for the record, I have no problem getting laid.”

“You’re admitting that you sleep around? Gross.”

“No—wait. That’s not what I meant—” He ran a hand through his hair and took Katie to sit down on the chair before he crouched on the floor before her. “Listen to me.”

Katie rolled her eyes but stayed put. “Make it quick.”

He nodded. “Okay. So, I never believed in fate the way she does. I think it’s crap.”

“Is that why you tricked her? Because you think she believes in crap?”

“Will you let me finish?”

She motioned for him to continue, unimpressed.

“I wasn't even supposed to be here. I was supposed to be home, taking care of my dog. For the first time since I started working, I finally had a vacation. But then—boom—last-minute call. The photographer who was supposed to come here canceled, and I got sent instead.”

He took a deep breath. “So there I was, back in Italy, tired of shooting the same things every year. Taking pictures of that old, grumpy Marchetti’s shoes—which, by the way, are nice, but not nice enough for him to earn my respect.”

Katie frowned. “You're rambling, Jake.”

“Right, sorry.” He took another breath, refocusing. “So I’m in Rome, relieved the show is over, thinking I can finally go home. Then I run into my old friend, Jay Park. We haven’t seen each other in ages, so we grab dinner. And then—” He gestured dramatically, “in walks this gorgeous, gorgeous woman in a red dress. It’s like whole world was out of focus, and all I can see was her, looking around before sitting alone.”

“She was there for Jay.”

“I know! I mean, I didn’t at the time, but I do now.” Jake let out a breath, rubbing the back of his neck. “I wanted to talk to her, but I had Jay with me, and ditching a friend for a girl is kind of a dick move. So I just… stole glances. Jay noticed and told me to go talk to her. I figured I’d just pay for her food instead, but he insisted.” He gave a small, almost amused shake of his head. “He even paid her bill and said I should repay him by talking to her.”

Katie nodded slowly. “I see. So that’s what happened.”

“Yes,” Jake said, shifting his weight. “And then my friend left, and there I was, just watching her sip wine after her meal, waiting for the right moment. But then—” He huffed, looking away. “I chickened out. So I left.”

Katie cocked an eyebrow, clearly waiting for him to continue.

Jake pushed off the chair and started pacing. “So I left, right? I was walking the streets, thinking about her, and then suddenly this girl rushed past me. Same dress, same hair, and I just knew it was her.” He gestured vaguely, like he could still see the moment playing out. “I followed her because I knew I’d regret it if I didn’t. But your friend is a fast runner, did you know that?”

Katie smirked. “She did track and field in high school.”

Jake snapped his fingers. “That explains it.”

Then, without missing a beat, he went on. “Anyway, I found her shoe, stuck in the cobblestone. So I picked it up and started looking for her. Luckily, she wasn’t hard to spot in that dress.” He shot Katie a pointed look. “Thanks to you, by the way. I heard it was your idea.”

Katie gave a small shrug.

“So, I finally caught up to her, and she was… upset. And then, out of nowhere, you guys were leaving.” Jake exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “I knew I had to stop her. I had to at least get her name because I’d regret it if I didn’t. If she got into that car and disappeared forever—” He shook his head. “I couldn’t let that happen.”

His voice softened. “And then she told me she saw me too. That she had been looking for Jay.” He hesitated before continuing, rubbing his temple. “I thought… I thought it would be easier to make her stay if I just said I was Jay.”

Katie let out a sharp scoff. “Or you could have just said you knew who Jay Park was.”

Jake groaned, throwing his head back. “I know! But hey, I panicked, okay?” He let out a humorless laugh. “I was… desperate, I guess. I’ve never felt this way before. Ever.”

His voice grew quieter. “My mom told me to take this trip. Even though I had to work, she said something great might happen to me here.” He looked down, then back up at Katie, eyes filled with something raw. “And I know this is it. Finding her was the ‘something great’ my mom meant. I don’t know how I know. I just do.”

He swallowed hard. “And now I messed it all up. I can’t let her leave, Katie. Not when I just got to know her.”

Katie sighed, crossing her arms. “That’s actually kind of romantic.” Then, with a pointed look, she added, “But it was wrong from the get-go.”

Jake’s shoulders tensed.

“This was a big deal for her, Jake,” she continued. “She left home to pursue this. She left her fiancé. And you? You lied to her.” Katie shook her head. “She’s mad at you right now, and honestly? If I were her, I’d be mad too.”

“Is there any way I can make it up to her?”

“Bring her to your friend, Jake. She just needs a look, a confirmation that she won’t be making the wrong decision.”

“What? About her marriage?”

“Yes. It's not my place to tell, but she’s conflicted.”

“Yeah, I think I know the gist of it.”

“You know? Good. Then you also know how much this means to her.”

Before he could respond, the door suddenly swung open. Andre stepped in, freezing for a moment when he spotted Jake. Then, with a dramatic shake of his head, he sighed. “Buddy, you messed up, man.”

“I know,” Jake sighed, standing up from the floor and grabbing the bouquet. To Katie, he said, “Thanks, Katie.”

Katie nodded. “Good luck, Jake.”

The tickets were booked, and you were set to leave in the morning. As you knelt beside your suitcase, you gave your belongings a final inspection. “We have to leave super early, Katie. The flight’s early, and we don’t want to miss it.”

“I know, I know,” Katie said, fastening an earring. “Andre and I are just going to drive around for a bit. It won’t take long.”

“You don’t have to rush your date,” you said, zipping up a side pocket. “Have fun tonight. Just make sure we’re on time tomorrow. We have to leave before that jerk comes looking for me.”

You hesitated, fiddling with the zipper pull. “Did he… come looking for me?”

Katie turned to you with a knowing smirk. “You like him, don’t you? You’re crazy for him.”

You scoffed. “I am not. I mean… I liked him because I thought he was someone else. I thought he was my soulmate.”

Katie tilted her head, considering your words. “So you liked him just because you thought he was your soulmate? And now that he’s not, your feelings just disappeared? That doesn’t really sound like fate to me.”

“You don’t even believe in fate.”

“I don’t believe in chasing fate,” she corrected. “I believe it comes to you when it’s time.”

You let out a frustrated sigh. “Whose side are you on?”

“No one’s.” Katie grinned, clipping on her other earring. “So tell me… you’re really not in love with him?”

“I hate him,” you said with conviction.

Katie’s grin widened. “Good. Because that’s what I told him when he came here with flowers for you.”

Your heart stuttered. “He came here?”

“While you were out booking tickets.”

Your stomach twisted. “And you told him I hated him?”

Katie shrugged, all too pleased with herself. “You don’t?”

You pressed your lips together, looking away as you shoved a pair of shoes into your suitcase. “None of that changes the fact that he lied.”

Katie gave you a look—one of those smug, all-knowing looks you hated. “Good. Then we can go home without regrets. I’ll go sightseeing with Andre, and you can stay here and… I don’t know, weep?”

“You’re mean.”

“Maybe,” she giggled, grabbing her purse and heading for the door. “Have fun being lonely.”

“Katie—”

“Bye,” she called out, slipping through the door before you could protest.

The night came and went. Morning arrived with the sound of birds chirping outside your window, but you hadn’t slept much. Instead of feeling relieved about finally going home, a strange heaviness settled in your chest. Part of you wanted to leave, to put everything behind you—but another part hesitated.

“Ready?” Katie asked as you buckled your seatbelt in the backseat of Andre’s car.

“Ready,” you exhaled, forcing a smile.

Andre started the engine, but just as he was about to pull out, a loud thud made all of you jolt. Jake stood in front of the car, his palms pressed against the hood, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.

“Wait,” he panted. “Don’t go yet.”

You scrambled out of the car, heart pounding, expecting him to plead his case again. “What are you doing?”

Jake inhaled sharply, then gripped your shoulders. “Please don’t leave. Let me make it up to you.”

You scoffed, shaking him off. “Nothing you do will ever change my mind, Jake.” You made sure to emphasize his real name.

His jaw tensed at the way you said his name, something flickering in his expression—fondness, longing. He swallowed. “Oh god,” he muttered, almost to himself. “You’re so beautiful.”

You blinked. Then, with an incredulous scoff, you turned to get back in the car.

“No, wait—please.” Jake stepped in your way again, more urgency in his voice now. “I messed up, okay? I know you’re mad, and you have every right to be. That’s why I’m here. I want to apologize and make it up to you.”

“How? By sweet-talking me?”

Jake shook his head. “No, Jay. I know where Jay Park is.”

You froze, hand hovering over the car door handle. Slowly, you turned back to face him. “You’re not lying?”

“I’m not.” He ran a hand through his hair before exhaling. “He told me in Rome that he’d be in Amalfi on the 5th. Today is the 5th. He’ll be there for a few days.”

“Amalfi?” you repeated, turning to Katie and Andre. “That’s nearby, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Andre confirmed. “And it’s worth a shot.”

Jake nodded, pulling out his phone. “Here. I have his hotel number. You can contact him.”

Your eyes narrowed. “How did you get this?”

“I pulled some strings,” he admitted. “But I’m sure it’ll work. Have you changed your mind about finding him?”

You hesitated, glancing at Katie for her opinion. She gave you a small nod. You sighed, looking back at Jake.

Looks like Destiny didn’t want you to leave just yet.

You changed your route from the airport to Amalfi. The trip wasn’t long—less than an hour—and soon, you arrived at the hotel Jake had mentioned. He followed, of course, though you had refused to ride with him, settling instead in the backseat of Andre’s convertible. You felt a little ridiculous for pursuing this after everything you’d said about fate being a sham, but you’d come all this way. A glimpse of Jay Park should be enough. You weren’t even trying to see if he was your soulmate anymore—you just wanted to fulfill the goal that had brought you here in the first place.

At the reception desk, you asked to use the phone, and the receptionist pointed you toward it before leaving you alone. Your friends had gone off as well, leaving you standing there, staring at the white receiver as nerves took over.

“Gosh, you can’t back out now,” you muttered under your breath. Just as you reached for the phone, your own buzzed in your hand. Reading the notification made your jaw drop.

By some miracle—one whole week since you’d sent the message—user jaypark_js had finally replied!

You stared at the screen in disbelief before quickly opening the chat. Jay apologized for seeing your message so late, and after a bit of back-and-forth, you asked if he’d be willing to meet for dinner since you were in the area. He agreed without hesitation, even promising to treat you to some great food.

It was set. You were going to meet Jay Park.

Back in your hotel room, you picked out a simple yet elegant white dress from your luggage, getting ready while Katie did the same. She was excited for you—even more so since she and Andre had plans for the night too. You were halfway through getting dressed when Andre arrived, Jake trailing in after him with a box in his hands.

You yelped and ducked into the bathroom, clutching your dress to your chest.

“I’m gonna go,” Katie announced, looping her arm around Andre’s. “See you later, okay?”

“See you!” you called out from inside.

As she passed Jake, Katie smirked. “See you later, Jake.” The way she said his name was teasing, almost conspiratorial, before she shut the door behind her.

Jake knocked on the bathroom door. “I got something for you.”

“Maybe later, Jake. I’m kind of naked right now,” you chided and Jake’s ears reddened at the idea of you naked in there.

“Uh… Just take it. I won’t look. You’re gonna need it.”

You cracked the door open slightly, just enough to grab the box from his outstretched hands. Inside was a pair of white shoes. “Thanks, but how did you even know my size?”

Jake hesitated before grinning. “Uh… intuition?”

You gave him a skeptical look through the gap before shutting the door again.

Left alone, Jake turned away, glancing around your room—until his eyes landed on the dress you’d left hanging in the closet. Without thinking, he plucked it from the hanger, brushing his fingers over the fabric as he moved back to the door.

“Good guess. It fits perfectly,” you called out from inside.

Jake smirked. “Of course it does.”

The door cracked open again, a single hand reaching out. “Hey, Jake, can you grab my dress? It’s the white one on the—”

Before you could finish, he hooked the hanger onto your finger. You blinked, surprised, before pulling it inside. “Thanks.”

Jake then went over to the dresser and picked up a set of earrings and a bracelet. Sure enough, the door cracked open once more.

“Oh, and I also need my earrings—” You stopped when he placed the pair in your palm before you even finished asking. You frowned slightly. “And my silver bracelet—”

Again, he handed it over without hesitation. This time, you poked your head out, eyeing him curiously. He was standing right outside, waiting, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“What?” he asked, amused.

You shook your head. “Nothing. Thanks.”

After getting dressed, you stepped out of the bathroom to find Jake lounging on the couch, flipping through an Italian magazine. He barely glanced up, but when you hesitated, fidgeting with the back of your dress, his eyes finally met yours.

“Can you button me up?” you asked, a little shyly. “I usually manage on my own, but zippers are easier.”

Jake set the magazine aside and pushed off the couch. “Yeah, no problem.” His fingers brushed your exposed shoulder as he gently turned you toward the mirror.

You met his gaze in the reflection—just as handsome as when you first met him. That effortless elegance, his smooth skin, the fullness of his lips. You caught yourself staring, remembering how they felt against yours, your hand absently touching your lower lip. 

Jake fumbled with the buttons, his brow furrowing in concentration. When one hand wasn’t enough, the other left your shoulder, grazing the bare skin of your spine. A slow, warm shiver spread through you.

“Damn buttons,” he muttered under his breath before fastening the last one. He met your eyes in the mirror and smiled. “You look great.”

“Thank you,” you breathed, still caught in his gaze. He clenched his jaw slightly and shoved his hands into his back pockets.

“You should go. Jay’s probably waiting.”

You exhaled, smoothing down your dress. “Thanks for bringing me here, Jake.”

His expression darkened. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Don’t call me Jake.” He took a step closer, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from his body.

“But… that’s your name, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” he murmured, resting his forehead against your shoulder. “And it sounds so good when you say it. It was meant for your lips, for your voice…”

“Don’t do this right now, Jake…”

He let out a sigh that made you hold your breath. His lips brushed against your shoulder in a featherlight kiss. Then he backed away.

“Go to Jay. See if he’s really your soulmate.”

You let out a bitter chuckle, turning to face him. “Are you mocking me?”

But there was no amusement in his expression. Only frustration. Only defeat. “I’m telling you to go,” he said quietly. “Because maybe if he makes you happy, I’ll finally move on.”

Something in you ached at the way he said it. You lifted a hand to his face, and he closed his eyes, leaning into the warmth of your touch. When you started to pull away, he caught your wrist, pressing your palm back against his cheek. His other hand found your waist, tugging you closer.

You weren’t sure what it was that drew you to Jake. Was it his charm? The way he made you feel like you were all he wanted? Or something deeper, something you didn’t want to name? Whatever it was, it pulled you under again, made you tip forward and wrap your arms around his neck just as he captured your lips in a tender kiss.

“Don’t go,” he pleaded, eyes shut, his forehead resting against yours. “Stay.”

You swallowed hard. “This is what I came here for, Jake. I have to do this.”

You let go of him and took your purse. Jake turned his back, not giving you a look even as you bade him good night. 

He opened his eyes, searching yours, then he let go.

You grabbed your purse and turned for the door. He turned away too, not sparing you another glance as you bade him a quiet goodnight.

The night was young, and the breeze carried a biting chill. You regretted not bringing a coat, but the thought barely lingered as you made your way down to the restaurant on the lower floor. The warmth of the space wrapped around you, easing the goosebumps on your arms.

At the entrance, a man greeted you. You gave him the name on the reservation, and he gestured for another to escort you to your table.

Jay was already seated, and the moment you saw him, your intuition from that night in Rome was confirmed. You had followed the dark-haired man back then, and he had turned out to be the real Jay Park.

He stood as you approached, offering a handshake. “Hi.”

You accepted it. “Thanks for accepting my invitation,” you said as you took your seat, the waiter pulling out the chair for you.

“Thanks for asking,” he replied smoothly.

You ordered food and chatted for a bit. He was a bit different from what you thought he would be. You had based his personality on the quality of his photography. They were taken with delicate care and attention so you assumed he’d be the sentimental type, but the man before you seemed to be on the manlier side; suave, easygoing with a more rugged demeanor. His build, his voice, and even his mannerisms. But then again, you reminded yourself that appearances could be misleading.

“By the way,” you said, setting down your glass. “That night at the restaurant in Rome… you paid for my dinner.”

He paused, as if searching his memory. Then his expression cleared. “Oh, the girl in the red dress? That was you?”

You nodded.

“I remember now.” He leaned back slightly. “I was with a friend—Jake Sim. We ran into each other in Rome, and I told him I’d treat him to dinner. Then he saw you.” Jay’s lips curled into a small smile. “You looked incredible, by the way. That dress definitely turned heads. Mine included.”

You chuckled lightly. “Is that why you paid for my meal?”

“Not exactly,” he admitted. “That was Jake’s idea. He wanted to talk to you, but he didn’t want to leave me hanging, so he decided to cover your bill instead. I told him I’d pay and that he should just go talk to you.”

The realization sank in slowly. “Ah… so that’s what it was.” You stared down at your plate, a strange feeling settling in your chest.

You felt an odd sense of dissatisfaction with this meeting. Something that made you feel like you were forced to be here, like you were complying with something even when this dinner was your idea in the first place.

Jay’s voice pulled you back. “Did he?”

You blinked. “What?”

“Did he talk to you at all?”

“Yeah. We talked.” You hesitated. “Actually, he’s the one who brought me here. I really wanted to meet you.”

“Really?” He raised an eyebrow. “I’m flattered. But what for?”

You didn't want to reveal more about the whole crazy soulmate thing to him so you cooked up an excuse. “I’m a fan of your work. I follow you on Instagram and I saw that you were here so I thought I’d meet you since I also happened to be around.”

Jay seemed pleasantly surprised. “Oh, wow. Thanks. I appreciate that.” He paused. “Though, I mainly do photography as a hobby. My wife liked looking at pictures.”

Your heartbeat faltered for a second. Relief flooded through you before you could process why. “You’re married?”

“Was,” he corrected gently. “She passed away a few years ago.”

Your stomach twisted. “Oh. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he said easily. “I’m fine. I’ve moved on. But right now, I’m not in a place where I can entertain the idea of a relationship. Might sound obnoxious, but I hope you didn’t come looking for me for that.”

You shook your head. “That’s okay. I really just wanted to get to know you.” Desperate to steer the conversation, you added, “My boss, Lee Heeseung, you know him, right?”

Jay’s face lit up in recognition. “Right. Heeseung. Of course. You work for him?”

“Yes. I saw some of your pieces in our magazine. That’s how I knew about you.”

You could barely believe yourself. After all the ways you had tormented Jake for lying, here you were, doing the same to save face. It was minor, sure—but a lie was still a lie.

No, it was completely different. Jay didn’t need to know you obsessed over his name through your teens. You needed to know if the person you almost hooked up with and threw your relationship with Sunghoon for was really Jay. It was different and whatever Jake’s excuse was, he still did a terrible thing to you.

“You okay?” Jay’s voice cut through your thoughts.

“Huh?” You looked up. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

The dinner was nice. Despite the uncertainty you felt in the first part, he turned out to be fun to talk to. You found that you were more alike than you initially expected, interests on a couple of similar things.

Afterward, you agreed to take a walk by the beach, wrapped in his coat to shield yourself from the chill. He mostly told stories about his travels—crazy encounters with strangers, unexpected adventures overseas. He asked about you, too, and you shared a few interesting bits about yourself. At some point, the conversation drifted to how he met his wife in Italy. Ever since, they had visited the country every year, always drawn back to the sea in Amalfi, their favorite place to be.

“Must be nice to be in love like that,” you mused, spotting the restaurant as you neared your starting point.

“It is.” He exhaled, the faintest smile on his lips. “I was lucky to experience that kind of love.”

You hesitated, then said, “I know it’s not my place, but… I think you should try again. Maybe you’ll find someone else who makes you happy. Maybe you’ll get to experience love like that again.”

He chuckled. “You know, sometimes I think she’s up there saying the exact same thing.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. That’s the kind of person she was.” His voice was steady, no trace of sadness—just reminiscent and fond. “She wouldn’t want me to be lonely just because she’s gone. That’s why, instead of grieving, I chose to live. I still revisit the places we loved, still carry those memories with me—but I do it with a happy heart. And if someone else comes along, someone who changes my life the way she did…” He shrugged, smiling softly. “Then I’ll welcome her with open arms.”

You nodded, returning his smile as you reached the stairs leading up to the seawall. He offered his hand for balance, and you took it without hesitation. At the top, you slipped off his coat and handed it back.

“I think we both know that someone isn’t me,” you quipped, prompting him to tilt his head playfully.

“Well…” He slipped his coat back on. “You’re a lovely woman, and I probably would’ve fallen for you in no time, but nah. I don’t think so.”

You both laughed.

“I’m big on soulmates and destiny, you know?” he continued. “I like to believe that if she’s out there, I’ll know. There has to be a sign. Or a feeling. I don’t know exactly what, but when it happens… I’ll just know.”

You felt an odd sense of familiarity with him, not in a romantic way, but in a way that made you feel like you’d known him much longer than just tonight. He was proving once again that you two were more alike than you’d expected.

“That’s funny,” you mused. “Because I actually came here to fulfill my destiny.”

You giggled at how ridiculous you sounded, but Jay only looked intrigued. “You did?”

“Yeah. I was looking for my soulmate. I got his name when I was thirteen, and ever since then, I believed he was the one for me.”

Jay stopped walking, staring at you with growing realization. “Wait,” he said slowly. “Don’t tell me…”

You winced. “Yeah. The Ouija board gave me your name, Mr. Jay Park.”

His eyes widened. He covered his mouth with one hand, but you could see the laughter threatening to spill out.

“Don’t laugh,” you warned. “I’m embarrassed enough as it is.”

He pressed his lips together, but amusement danced in his eyes. “I’m not judging.”

You threw your head back with a laugh. “It’s ridiculous, isn’t it? Now that I think about it, my friend or my sister was probably behind the whole thing. They must’ve rigged the board or something.”

Jay grinned. “Hey, who knows? Maybe you were right to come here.”

You snorted. “No offense, Jay, but I don’t want to be the stand-in for your great love.”

He laughed. “That’s not what I was gonna say.”

“Oh? My bad. Go on, then.”

“I’m saying… you came here looking for something. At first, you thought it was me. But maybe what you were really chasing was your destiny. And maybe, if you stick around a little longer, you’ll find what you’re looking for.”

ou caught a glimpse of Jake at the restaurant’s veranda. He had a glass of wine in hand, which he downed a little too quickly when he realized you’d caught him looking. Then, as if it hadn’t happened, he turned away, pretending to be absorbed in conversation with Andre and Katie. Not even a few seconds later, he stole another glance, only to look away again just as fast.

Meanwhile, Jay was still talking. “I always believe that everything you do, everywhere you go, everyone you meet, you meet them for a reason. The reason was destiny. Destiny brought you to Italy. I’m sure she has big plans for you.”

You froze. A sudden sense of déjà vu swept over you. You’d heard that before from Jake. A friend said it to him. Was that friend Jay Park?

“You know what? I agree,” you muttered, still watching Jake from afar. Then, turning to Jay, you asked, “Hey, listen.”

“Hm?”

“Are you sure you’re not just saying that to be a wingman for your friend?” The accusation in your tone was light, but you were determined to know the truth.

Jay blinked. “What friend?”

“Jake Sim.”

“Oh, Jake?” He looked thoughtful. “No, the last time I saw him was in Rome.” Then, after a beat, he added, “Didn’t you say he was here too?”

“He is.”

Jay perked up. “Great. We should all meet for a drink.”

“We should. Look. He’s right there.” You gestured toward the restaurant. “Would you like to join us? We’re here with some friends.”

“I’d love to.”

“No need to call him. He's right there,” you said, pointing at the restaurant. “Would you like to join us? We're here together with some friends.”

“I would love to.”

Back inside, you led Jay to the bar, introducing him to Katie and Andre—making sure to subtly warn Katie not to act weird around him. You had drinks by the bar, chatting and laughing through the night. 

Jay fit in effortlessly, and Andre took an immediate liking to him, prodding him for stories about his travels. Jake, on the other hand, barely looked at you. His attention was fixed on Jay and Andre, his expression was unreadable, though he chimed in every now and then. 

You, meanwhile, stood by, sipping your drink, quietly laughing along while thinking hard about the Jay Park that you obsessed over, Jake Sim who you thought was Jay, and the fate that brought the three of you here in the beautiful Amalfi.

“Are you okay?” Katie asked, noticing your silence.

“Yeah, I’m just tired,” you replied. It wasn’t even an excuse. You really were tired and just wanted the night to end.

“We can go back now if you want,” Katie offered, her concern evident.

You appreciated it, but after seeing how cozy she was with Andre, you didn’t want to ruin her night. “I’ll be fine. I can go back by myself. You guys have fun.”

Slipping away quietly, you left her to explain your absence to the others. The stairs leading to your suite were winding, and as you ascended, a wave of dizziness hit you. You weren’t drunk—just a little tipsy from the wine and dizzy from all the thoughts about Jaek swirling in your mind. 

You huffed when you reached the second-floor landing. One more set of stairs and you’d reach your suite, so you inhaled and took another step. But you ended up losing balance on your heels and falling over. The next thing you knew, you were on the floor, the impact more frustrating than painful.

“Hey,” came a voice from below, followed by hurried footsteps. Jake reached you quickly, eyes scanning you in concern as he helped you up. “What happened?”

“Your shoes are stupid,” you grumbled, yanking them off and standing with his support. “Why would you even give them to me?”

Jake let out an awkward chuckle. “I don’t know. I saw them and thought you’d look great in them.”

“Well, I did. But they’re crap,” you huffed.

Jake sighed as he walked up the stairs beside you. “Was the date bad? You seem to be in a mood.”

“No. The date was great. Jay is a great guy. He’s funny, he’s nice, and he’s honest.” You emphasized the last word, making sure he caught your point.

Jake exhaled. “I’m sorry. I really am. I brought you here to make it up to you. But seeing that you’re still mad, I guess it didn’t work?”

You stopped in front of your door and turned to him with a stern gaze. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you bring me here?”

“I told you. I wanted to make it up to you.”

You sighed. “By setting me up with your friend? I thought you were in love with me.”

“I am!” he confessed, running a hand through his hair. “But you were mad at me because I messed up.” He let out a defeated sigh. “So to apologize for wasting your time, here’s Jay Park.”

“But you’re in love with me,” you repeated.

“That’s still true.”

You sighed as frustration swelled inside you. Dropping your purse, you reached for his collar and clutched it tightly. “Then why?” you asked, voice raw, close to breaking. “Why would you set me up with him if you’re in love with me?”

Jake seemed startled, his hands instinctively gripping your elbows. Confusion flickered across his face as he searched for the right words. “I… What—What do you want me to say?”

“You even bought me shoes,” you went on, voice shaking. “What if we ended up liking each other? What if he really was my soulmate? Were you just gonna let me go?”

“Fuck, no,” he blurted, quick and desperate, cupping your face in both hands. “I’d fight him for you. I’d keep trying until you told me to get lost. Hell, I’d even follow you back to Seoul and stop your wedding.” His grip tightened, his breath warm against your skin. “If I lost you here—if I missed this chance—I would… I would…”

He exhaled sharply, pulling you into a hug, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “I would never forgive myself,” he murmured.

You stood still, feeling his warmth seep into you, his breaths unsteady against your skin.

He kept going. “I know how stupid it sounds to fall in love with someone so quickly, but I did. I fell in love with you the moment I saw you. I knew you were the one for me. I knew you were everything that was meant to be.” He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes. “And I’m sorry I lied, but I did it because I was scared I’d lose you forever without even knowing your name.”

Your lips parted, but no words came out. Instead, you reached for his cheek, your fingers tracing over his skin as you stepped closer. Then, without hesitation, you kissed him.

He croaked out your name but you silenced him by kissing him again. This time, when you started to pull away, he didn’t let you. His hands found your waist, pulling you flush against him as he kissed you back with everything he had, reeling you into a surge of sensations and emotions that clouded your head. 

When he pulled away for a brief moment to look into your eyes, you wanted to reach for him again, to feel him and be engulfed by his warmth again.

“Take me, Jake,” you pleaded and that made Jake exhale sharply before holding your hand firmly and pulling you into his room.

Jake barely made it two steps inside before he kicked the door shut, hands already roaming your back as his lips devoured yours. Your fingers fumbled at the buttons of his shirt, impatient and desperate. The fabric slipped from his shoulders and hit the floor just as his own hands worked at the fastenings of your dress.

A sharp rip echoed through the dimly lit room. You pulled back, gasping. “Jake!”

“Sorry, love,” he murmured, unapologetic as he tugged you close again. “I’ll get you a new one.”

His lips found yours before you could argue, his kiss hot and consuming, stealing your breath and any lingering protests. He stepped back until his knees hit the bed, sinking down and pulling you with him, your legs straddling his lap. The heat between you intensified, kisses turning feverish—tongues tangling, teeth grazing. His hands slid up your back, deft fingers unclasping your bra with ease, and before you could react, it was gone, flung somewhere into the room. You barely noticed.

His lips traveled down your throat, dragging slow, open-mouthed kisses along your skin, leaving heat in their wake. When his teeth scraped over your pulse, a gasp escaped you. He sucked at the spot, hard enough that you knew it would leave a mark.

You knew how it would look in the morning and you knew everyone would see it but you didn’t mind. The thought of people seeing it tomorrow, seeing proof of tonight, made your head spin.

Your hips rolled against him instinctively, and he groaned, his grip tightening on your waist as you ground down, desperate for friction. His hands roamed greedily, fingers tracing your curves, learning every inch of your skin.

Then, in one swift motion, he flipped you onto the bed, hovering over you, eyes dark and full of hunger. The dress, or what remained of it, slid off with ease, leaving you bare and naked beneath him. Jake’s gaze burned as he took you in, his breath ragged and quick. He reached out, trailing the back of his fingers over your cheek, slow and reverent.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, voice raw. “It hurts.”

Your fingers curled around his wrist, guiding his touch lower, placing his palm right on your breast. “Touch me, Jake,” you pleaded, voice barely above a breath.

His lips parted, a hushed curse falling from them before he obeyed, hands mapping out the softness of your body, fingers exploring, worshipping.

His lips followed the same path, leaving heated kisses down your collarbone, between your breasts, along your stomach. He palmed your breast, kneading firmly before diving in to put his mouth where his hand had been. Your fingers curled in his hair, urging him on, desperate for more. 

“You’re impatient,” he murmured against your skin, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Jake,” you whined, arching into him, seeking friction.

He chuckled, hands gripping your thighs, pushing them apart. His head followed, teasing at your inner thighs, exploring and inching closer to where you want him to be. The closer he got, the quicker you breathed, and when he finally gave you what you wanted, a gasp tore from your throat.

Your fingers tightened in his hair as pleasure rolled through you in waves. He was relentless, lapping and sucking at your sensitive sex, memorizing which angle made your breath hitch and your body twitched. When your thighs trembled around him, he only gripped you harder, keeping you exactly where he wanted you. 

The pleasure built higher and higher until it crashed over you, leaving you breathless and dazed.

Before you could fully come down, Jake was already moving, lips trailing back up your body, whispering sweet nothings against your skin. He kissed you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his tongue, while his hands slid down your thigh, folding your knees up.

“I need you,” he rasped against your lips, his forehead pressed to yours, breath unsteady.

“Then take me,” you whispered, wrapping your legs around him, pulling him closer.

His gaze locked onto yours, dark and filled with something deeper than lust—something consuming. He reached down to tug his boxers off, manhood springing free. He prodded at your sex, teasing just enough to make you whimper before finally pushing in, stretching you, filling you completely.

A grunt left his lips as he halted, savoring the delightful clench. “Fuck,” he groaned, eyes fluttering shut, as if trying to keep himself together.

Your fingers dug into his back, and you lifted your hips, urging him to move. That was all it took for him to snap, his control falling apart as he began to set a steady rhythm—deep, slow thrusts that had you gasping into his mouth. He kissed you through it, swallowing your moans, his own sounds muffled against your lips.

When you came here, you never imagined having sex with someone, not even the soulmate you were desperately searching for. And Jake—he was a stranger, and the way he made you feel was something entirely new. You’d always been the sensual kind, taking things slow and steady. Jake was steady, but rough. Each thrust sent a sharp, delightful ache through you, unraveling you in ways you hadn’t known were possible.

You gasped, clutching onto him as he moved, hitting that perfect spot that sent your mind spinning. The pleasure built rapidly, coiling tight in your stomach, making you cry out his name.

He moved harder, deeper, chasing his release as you spiraled toward yours. Every thrust, every touch, every breath between you pushed you closer until—

“Oh, Jake,” you gasped, holding onto him for dear life as waves of pleasure surged through you in a dizzying rush.

His movements turned erratic, his grip tightening as he buried his face against your neck, groaning as he followed right after you. His body tensed, and then he froze, his breath warm against your skin as he came undone.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, tangled together, breathless and spent. The only sound was your unsteady shallow breaths, and the pounding of your heartbeats.

Jake finally lifted his head. “Fuck,” he blurted, looking down at your fucked out expression and grinning. He leaned to place a lazy kiss to your lips before rolling onto his side, pulling you against him. 

“Well,” he murmured, his voice hoarse. “That wasn’t how I planned to end the night, but I’m not complaining.”

You let out a breathless laugh, nuzzling into his chest. “Me neither,” you admitted.

His arms tightened around you, and he pressed another kiss to your forehead, murmuring something against your skin that you couldn’t quite catch. But you felt it—in the way he held you, the way he touched you.

And somehow, that was enough.

Two years later, you stood at the podium, facing the person who would be officiating your wedding. Friends and family were present to witness this day, even Andre Marchetti—who, much to Jake’s grumbling, turned out to be the son of the Italian shoemaker he loathed. He and Katie had ended their fling before you left Italy, but he still earned an invitation for playing a role in your love story.

Park Sunghoon was there too, holding his beautiful baby girl in his arms, his wife beaming beside him. The two of you had remained good friends, and as fate willed it, he had even found his own destiny and married before you. Everything had fallen into place, just as you always believed it would.

And now, standing before Jake, it felt like everything had been leading to this moment. He cleared his throat, rolling his shoulders like he was shaking off nerves. Then he smirked—because of course he did—and said, “Before I met you, I never thought much about fate. To me, life was about choices, and love was just something you built, not something written in the stars. And then you happened.”

His grip on your hands tightened. “You came crashing into my life, with all your stubborn belief in destiny, and somehow, despite all my skepticism, I started to believe too. Not because of some cosmic plan, but because I couldn’t imagine a world where I don’t end up loving you. And that’s a big deal coming from someone like me.”

A small laugh rippled through the guests, but Jake kept his eyes locked on you. “So, I don’t know if the universe wrote this for us. But I do know that if I had to choose over and over again, I’d still end up right here. With you.” He tilted his head, smiling slightly. “Even when you drive me crazy.”

You let out a soft breath, eyes stinging, and squeezed his hands back. You tried to steel your resolve, willing yourself not to cry too soon. With a shaky breath, your spoke next, “I spent my whole life believing in destiny. I followed signs, searched for meaning in the smallest things, and held onto the belief that somewhere in this world, fate had written a love story just for me. But no sign, no name on a Ouija board, no whispered wish upon a falling star could have prepared me for you.”

Your voice wavered slightly, but you pushed through just like you’d practiced dozens of times before today. “You were unexpected, messy, and completely wrong by every rule I thought I had set for myself. And yet, I found you because, somehow, even through all my searching, all my mistakes, you were always meant to be the one.”

Jake exhaled, something flickering in his gaze that made your heart ache in the best way.

“I love you not because fate said so,” you continued, voice softer, “but because I wanted to. I chose you. So today, I don’t just promise to love you because it’s meant to be. I choose to love you, again and again, every day, in every lifetime, in every version of the story. I will always choose to love you.”

Jake swallowed hard, his hands tightening around yours, and when the officiant finally spoke, inviting you to seal it with a kiss, you surged forward before he even finished the sentence. The crowd erupted into cheers as Jake kissed you like it was the first time all over again, like he had been waiting for this moment his entire life. 

Across the room, Katie and your sister stood together, glasses in hand, watching as guests approached your table to greet you and congratulate you. At one point, Katie nudged your sister, motioning toward where you stood chatting with Jay Park. 

“Look, it’s Jay Park. The soulmate she was raving about for years. Looks like he played a completely different role in her destiny.”

“Jay Park?” your sister echoed, tapping her glass as she too stared at the guy greeting you and Jake.  “Why does that name sound familiar?”

 “The Jay Park. The one from the Ouija board. The soulmate the spirits chose for her.”

Your sister gasped. “Oh, yeah. The one I made up!” she exclaimed, bursting into laughter.

“What?” Katie questioned, confused.

“Jay Park. I made him up. I didn’t even think hard about it, I just randomly came up with that name.”

“No. You couldn’t have. I was there too.”

“Yeah and you were both dumb enough to freak out over moving glass so I kept messing with you all,” she laughed, taking a sip from her glass.

Katie was fully scandalized. “Do you have any idea how long she held onto that name? She was online searching every Jay Park on the internet and guessing which one was her soulmate. She even had a crush on the singer Jay Park because of it!”

“Of course I know. It was hilarious,” your sister said with a shrug. “She stopped bringing it up, so I figured she got over it.”

Katie sighed in exasperation. “Eonnie, we literally flew to Italy for Jay Park. That’s how she met Jake.”

It was your sister’s turn to gasp. “No, you did not!”

“Well, we did,” Katie deadpanned. “And now she believes the Ouija board led her to Jay so he could lead her to Jake, her real soulmate.”

“Oh my poor sister,” she winced. “Who’s gonna tell her?”

“Don’t tell her,” Katie chided, shaking her head. “She’d freak out and she’ll never forgive you. That almost happened with Jake.”

You, oblivious to their conversation, laughed at something Jay had said, completely unaware of the revelation unfolding behind your back.

But then again—who’s to say your sister’s innocent little prank wasn’t destiny’s design all along?

[fin]

[anothermaletfwriter]

Don't Climb the Stairs in the Woods

Carter isn’t what you would expect from his appearance. He hated how even in the year of 2025, people made assumptions based on what he looked like. Yes, he was a twink but that didn’t mean he was gay. In fact, he was the opposite. He was the elusive straight twink, having the slender youthful pale white frame often held up by gay men as one of their beauty standards while having only attraction for the opposite sex. He was entirely straight, not even remotely bi-curious. It was a constant social problem but it particularly plagued him in his love life. The hot girls he wanted to bang friend zoned him as they wanted their own little gay best friend. Surprisingly despite his looks, he wasn’t very tolerant of the gays or their lifestyles. Unfortunately, he would learn tolerance and acceptance the hard way.

Today was one of the few dates he snatched with a woman. His tactic of deepening his voice and making his flirting extremely obvious worked this time. He was in the middle of talking to the cute blonde named Carrie at a coffee shop when her muscle-bound gay Asian best friend, Tristan, came along. He sashayed in his walk, wrists limping and hips swaying, as he hugged his bestie. While Tristan’s only direct interaction with Carter was a friendly wave and “Hello, how are you?”, Carter felt the atmosphere had been spoiled. He got sick of the man at first sight and hated it even more when Tristan opened up his mouth and all that came out was his overtly-flamboyant cadence. Carter abandoned his date and left the shop instantly, explaining that he didn’t want to date a girl with gay friends like Tristan.

Now he was walking through the woods, attempting to find a peace of mind like he always did. He took on his usual trail, passing some pine trees and a pond that had geese and ducks. Strangely enough, there were no sounds of creatures. No things hissed or slithered. Even the ducks that honked at him were silent. Everything in the forest was quiet save for the crunch under his feet and the breezy wind that haunted him. Something is wrong here.

He tried to turn back on the trail but the forest had reorganized itself, his path now blocked by a thick brush of trees. It was too thick to get through. He turned forward and a staircase stood there. It was made of concrete with graffiti of rainbows and nets of vines on the side. Chills ran through his heart that warned him to not get on it. He became paralyzed as voices without a source whispered for him to go on it. There was something exciting only seen at the top. No matter how hard he tried to push his legs back, they could only move forward, his body out of his control.

“I don’t deserve this. I wanna go home,” He tried to speak out but his tongue didn’t follow. He hoped that this was all a bad dream and not karma for acting like an asshole earlier.

As his sentient body slowly went up the stairs, the voices got louder. As he got on the top, the voices felt like they were screaming in his ear but with both feet on the final step, only the ground afterwards, it stopped. Everything was frozen in time like someone had paused the channel. The only noises he heard were his heartbeat and stomach churning before it all returned. The trees swayed in the softer wind and the ducks quacked and tackled each other in the pond.

His entire body felt cooler, and he felt his raised goosebumps. He was naked! All of his clothes gone and out of sight. God this was embarrassing. He covered his average-size junk with his hands, realizing he was in control of his body again.

Happy that nothing severely bad occurred, Carter carefully went back down the stairs.

He noticed that the steps seemed lower down than before, as his legs made larger strides. His skin was changing, while initially thinking it was a trick of the light, he finally realized his skin tone was shifting into a darker and tan shade. His flat cardboard of a chest popped up like two meaty balloons as his skinny abs hardened into a vascular 8 pack. His jawline felt sore as it elongated into a more rectangular shape and chiseled out for a more mature appearance. His stick-thin legs became tree trunks. His curly brown hair shortened into jet black and straight short hair dyed with a tinge of brown. On the arms he held on the rail, they exploded with muscle. His bicep grew more prominent with veins that pumped testosterone through out his whole body the closer he got on the bottom. His ass felt heavy as it had expanded with muscle.

After getting off the stairs, Carter ran to the pond and was shocked by the stranger in the reflection of the water. He was a Chinese hunk now!

His member poked out as he became aroused from his own reflection. The more he stroked, the more of his memories transformed. All the nights he spent in his car banging woman turned into Sniffies and Grindr meetups where they flip-fucked in his car. His attraction to woman replaced by an attraction to men, notably Asian muscle men like himself, like a real man. His name was not Carter, it was Cade. Before he could climax, his phone dinged, ruining his streak.

He sighed, opening past the lockscreen off his near naked body in front of a tropical sunset to a Grindr notification. It was from Azn muscle, “U at the trail yet?”

“Yeah. Got so horny I almost got off lol.”

“Lmao save your hot cum for me. Be there soon.”

Cade exhaled with impatience. After a blink, a backpack and bike manifested on the ground next to him. After another blink, a pair of tight white shorts appeared on his body, not leaving much to the imagination. He began to remember that he was biking shirtless as usual to his Grindr hookup spot and passed the time by admiring the gorgeous nature and his handsome reflection.

Once his hookup, whose name was Tristan and was complaining of a bitchy straight white twink earlier, arrived, it didn’t take long for them to get on their knees on the warm sun-heated ground, taking turns as they pounded each other’s bubble butt with their monster Asian cocks. Cade reveled in being used by a fellow muscle Asian, their mouths fondling their asses and cocks. After they filled each other with their hot potent seed, they parted ways, messaging each other to meet at the same spot again next week.

Cade returned to his apartment to prepare for the rest of the hookups for the day. In an hour, he had to meet in the bathroom of a closing down mattress store. In three hours, he was back in the trail. He would finish his last hookup in an upscale luxury apartment at the stroke of midnight before sleeping on the stranger’s bed.

Cade sometimes had nightmares that he was a straight white twink lost in an eternally paused forest but they went away after a few weeks. After all, he had always been Cade and no one else. He was a gay Asian muscle slut and was proud of it.

[hotchscoffeecup]

those things will kill you

pairing: javier peña x dea!reader

tags: gun violence, broken glass injury, bullet wounds, blood, no y/n

word count: 5k

summary: attacked in a public bar, javier takes you back to his apartment to get you cleaned up and tend your wounds. an almost kiss leads to an exploration of feelings neither of you were prepared for.

as always, big thanks to muffin for always being willing to help beta my fics <3

The bartender places a bottle of beer, sweaty with condensation, in front of you on the bar top.

After uttering a short thank you in Spanish, you leave a couple of bills on the counter and twist your fingers around the neck of the bottle. The beer is cold and slides down your throat easily, but it tastes bitter in your hollow stomach.

You run your tongue over your teeth and tsk, shaking your head wondering how you ended up in this mess. Everything seems like it’s going to hell in a handbasket and all the government wants to do is tie your hands and everyone else’s in the search for Escobar.

You hate how it all keeps you up at night; the cat and mouse. For every inch you eked closer, Escobar always seemed to be a mile ahead. Even when he is right under your nose, he evades capture and disappears without so much as a trace of evidence.

You think too far too deeply about Pablo Escobar and you know it affects your work. How can the same man who built homes and schools for the poor of his hometown be the same man that would blow up a city street full of school children and their families a week before school starts? The thought of it keeps you awake at night because you genuinely cannot fathom how such a disconnect can exist in the human mind. He is a drug lord. A killer. A criminal. But he was also someone’s child, someone’s husband, someone’s father. Could he really justify all of this cruelty and malice? You wonder when enough stopped being enough for him. You wonder if a reality existed where he was just that, a man of the people. A family man. In another life, maybe he could’ve actually maintained a seat in the Colombian congress. In all his posturing and speech making, he really did exude all of the makings of a good politician that wanted to see a better and more prosperous Colombia. Instead, he became that which instilled fear in the hearts of those that called the great nation their home.

The clipped click of a lighter snaps you out of your own mind and the sounds of the bar pull you out from under the sea of thoughts you’d lost yourself in.

“Real sharp instincts there,” Javier jabs as he drags on the cigarette between his lips and settles into the seat beside you. “Glad I’m not a sicario. Getting the jump on you would be all too easy now, wouldn’t it?”

“Fuck off, Peña, I’m not in the mood.”

“What happened? Get in trouble with the ambassador or something?”

You direct a hard stare in his direction and that seems to speak for itself.

“It’s an adjustment for everyone. He’s definitely more of a tight ass, but he’ll get used to the way things operate down here. Give it time.”

You scoff. “Easy for you to say. All you and Murphy have to do is posture and dick swing your way into his good graces. It’s not that easy for me.”

The bartender nears your end of the bar and inclines his head towards Javier. He gestures towards the drink in your hand with his cigarette and says, “Lo mismo, por favor.”

With a drink now in hand, he turns towards you and levels his deep brown eyes on yours.

“Cut the crap.”

Your brow arches toward your hairline. “Excuse me?”

The corners of his eyes crinkle as one side of his lips quirks up. “I’m not buying this ‘I’m-a-lady-so-I-have-to-work-twice-as-hard’ bullshit. You’re a damn good agent and that’s why you’re here with me and Murphy. Ambassador knows that. So, why don’t you tell me what’s really bothering you?”

He takes a swig of his beer and swallows hard. Pointing the bottle at you he says, “and to be clear, I’m not swinging my dick around for anyone.” His eyes flicker over your face and a glint of mischief enters his gaze. “Unless they ask nicely of course.”

You drop your chin and shake your head. “Just when I thought you were being genuine.”

“Hey, I am genuine,” he protests. He pops the cigarette between his lips and grabs your shoulder, the warmth of his palm pressing through your jacket. “C’mon, what’s really eating you?”

You grab the bottle in front of you and swirl the pale liquid inside, forming a small tornado when you still your hand. “I just haven’t been sleeping, that’s all.”

Javier drops his hand from your shoulder to take the cigarette from his lips and blows out a puff of smoke, angling his mouth away from you but the acrid smell still manages to burn your nostrils.

“Those things will kill you, you know?”

Javier smirks and you hate how good it looks on his smug face. “We work in Bogotá. A lot of things can kill us.”

“No need to tempt fate.”

He moves from side to side as if weighing his options. “Cigarettes, alcohol, working too hard trying to prove ourselves that we don’t sleep at night…we all have our vices.” His eyes linger on yours and you suddenly feel vulnerable being called out like that.

“Consider the reasons I don’t sleep, Javi.” You drain the last of your beer and push the bottle away from you.

You press your hands against the edge of the bar, but before you can push yourself up and off of the barstool, Javier claps a hand over one of your wrists, stilling you.

“You can talk to me, you know?” The browns of his irises flicker as they bear into yours and the hollow pit in your stomach widens. You know you can talk to him. Steve too. It’s just hard to be too vulnerable down here though when there’s so much pressure coming down from all angles. If you even look like you might collapse under the weight of it all you’ll get rotated back to the States so quickly, you won’t even get the chance to say goodbye. This is the opportunity of a lifetime for you and you can’t squander it. So, it stays easy to lock it down, despite the consequences.

So, you do just that and lock it down. Forcing a smile you know doesn’t reach your eyes, you shake off his hand and zip up your jacket. “I’m fine, Peña. I’ll see you in the morning.”

He presses his lips together, but doesn’t say anything more. He nods his head in farewell and you turn to leave.

You take two steps before your name rolls off of his tongue and you roll your eyes. “Peña, I’m—” The words die on your lips as you turn, eyes drifting past Javier to the pair on the motorcycle beyond the glass window that makes up the external wall of the bar. The man on the back of the motorcycle aims an automated weapon in Javier’s direction.

“Everybody get down!” You cry out as all hell breaks loose.

You’re airborne as the glass shatters and the explosive sounds of gunfire fill the space. You collide with a thick wall of muscle and hit the ground hard, covering your head with one arm and shielding his body with the other. The gunfire stops almost as soon as it had started and the sound of tires squealing on the pavement echoes off the street.

Patrons scream and cry out as they scramble over one another to evacuate the space. You roll onto your side and groan as shards of glass cut into your arms through the thin windbreaker you have on.

“Javier,” you groan as you reach for him. He’s moving so you know he’s alive. You lean over him and his shocked visage. “Javi, are you with me?”

He blinks hard out of whatever stupor he’s in and sits bolt upright. “Which direction did they go?” He turns his head to look over his shoulder and the gaping frame where shards of glass poke out of the windowsill like jagged teeth.

“They’re gone,” you say on an exhale. “Are you alright? Did you hit your head or anything when I tackled you?”

He breathes out a short laugh and you fear he might be in shock. “Did I hit my head? No, I didn’t—” He stops and shakes his head like he’s trying to clear away a fog. His brow pinches as he looks around at the damage. Tables and chairs are upended and cast aside. Broken bottles line the floor where they shattered upon impact off the shelves behind the bar and litter the ground. You’re surprised to find that, miraculously, no bodies littered the ground in the wake of the attack.

A hand cups your chin and you reflexively reach for the gun tucked into your waistband.

Peña raises his other hand in surrender. “I think you might’ve hit yours though.” His eyes shift just above your field of vision and that’s when you feel the hot sticky substance drip down onto your lashes. You raise a hand and touch it, surprised to find a smear of red staining your fingertips when you look at them.

“I think that’s just from the glass. It’s all in my jacket.”

Javier clambers to his feet and dusts off his jeans. Bits of glass hit the floor as it rattles off of his leather jacket, a much heartier material that you wish yours had been made from.

He extends a hand towards you and you take it, wincing as he pulls you to your feet. With a grunt, you tug the zipper down and shrug out of your jacket. There’s no saving the ripped and bloodied material so you drop it on the floor.

“Fuck, you’re hit.”

The words don’t register as Javi closes the gap between the two of you and the smell of cigarettes and cologne envelops you in a strange, yet almost comforting cloud of, well, Javier.

He scrubs a hand over his face as he hesitates to touch you. You hear him muttering to himself, but the words don’t quite register. Funny how a moment ago you were worried about him going into shock.

A sharp sting of pain brings you back to your senses as Javier presses a folded up bar towel to your shoulder. “Hold pressure on that,” he instructs. He turns and reaches back to take your hand in his. “Come on, I’ll get you out of here. I need to get you taken care of.”

And that’s how you find yourself in the passenger seat of Javier Peña’s Jeep with blood seeping through a dirty bar rag onto the upholstery of his passenger seat. At some point he reaches over you and retrieves the satellite phone from within the glove box to call in the attack.

“No, Murphy. I’m fine. She’s fine. Minor wounds it seems. No—no, don’t wake Connie. I’ve got a kit at my apartment. Yes, I’ll keep an eye on her. I’ve already called the Ambassador and Martinez. Yeah, yeah. Ok, goodnight. I’ll call you if anything happens.”

By the time he pulls into his garage, the adrenaline wears off and the sharp sting of pain in your shoulder becomes glaringly obvious. Javier gets out and moves to open the door for you. He places a supporting hand under your uninjured arm as you maneuver your way out of the car in the confined space. Your body brushes against the firm plane of his as you do and you don’t miss the way he stiffens in response.

“Let’s get you inside,” he murmurs and drops his hand to the small of your back to guide you towards the door.

His apartment is simple, built in the same style as yours and Murphy’s. They all share the same furniture and simple decorations, though yours doesn’t have quite the number of liquor bottles perched on various surfaces and vaguely remember what he’d mentioned about vices at the bar. The smells strongly of him, of his earthy cologne and cigarette smoke. You’ve grown used to it from sitting across from him at work for the last six months. There’s something oddly comforting about it even though the amount he and everyone else smokes bothers you to no end.

“Why don’t you sit down?” He says, gesturing toward the couch.

You do as he suggests and sit on the couch, only on the edge though. You don’t want to ruin the upholstery like you’d done with his car. Plus, you’re fairly certain there’s still small shards of glass embedded in the skin of your back and the idea of pressing those in any further makes you queasy.

Javi disappears into the bathroom, muttering expletives under his breath in English and in Spanish. He returns with a small red first aid kit, a couple of wash clothes, and a bottle of rubbing alcohol.

He climbs onto the couch and perches on the back of the sofa, his legs spread on either side of your body. “Hold these,” he says, and doesn’t wait to dump the items into your lap.

With gentle hands, he peels the bar rag up and off your shoulder. “Good,” he sighs. “Bleeding’s stopped. Let’s get you out of this shirt.”

You turn your head over your shoulder to look at him from beneath an arched brow and he immediately doubles back. “So we can clean this properly and make sure there isn’t any more glass. Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“Funny, I thought you liked it there.” Your lips curve into a wicked smile. “I know what you meant, but it is fun to watch you squirm.”

Javier shakes his head and you turn back around to pull your tank top up and over your head. You try to do it with one arm to avoid aggravating your shoulder, but the movement jostles the joint and you hiss between your teeth. Javi catches your hand as you try to pull it over the injury and takes over guiding it up and over the wound. He discards your tank top on the ground and sucks in a breath.

“What, Jav? You see women in their bras, or without them, all the time. Relax.”

“No, it’s not that. Wait, what—”

You smirk to yourself. “What’s the problem?”

“It’s just on second thought, I think we ought to move to the kitchen. There’s more light there and there’s still some glass stuck in and around where the bullet clipped you.”

He gently lays the towel back down over the open wound on your shoulder and you follow him to the kitchen and drop your keys and gun onto the counter before perching on one of the bar stools. He kicks the nearby waste paper basket next to the empty stool beside you and arranges the first aid items onto the counter, opening the kit and withdrawing gloves, tweezers, gauze pads, and roller bandages. He zips the kit shut, determining he has everything that he needs and places it in his lap as he sits down.

A strange silence settles over the two of you as he snaps on the pair of latex gloves and sets to work. He removes the soiled rag from your shoulder and drops it into the trash. The pinch and sting of him pulling glass from within and around your injuries dulls over time and you watch as the tiny pile of red stained shards grows on the counter next to you.

“You know there wouldn’t be so much of this if you hadn’t fallen directly on top of me.”

Javier scoffs. “You’re right. Next time we’re in a firefight, I’ll let you fall on me.” The tweezers lock on to another small shard and you grimace as he pulls it free. “I think that was the last one.”

He unscrews the plastic cap from the bottle of rubbing alcohol and soaks a washcloth with it. “This is probably going to hurt worse, but we gotta get this cleaned up.”

You nod. “I know, go ahead.”

When he’s cleaning the dried blood from off and around the skin, it just grazes over small cuts and scrapes that feels more annoying than anything else. It’s when he passes over the open wound in your shoulder that a curse slips past your lips and tears well in your eyes.

“Fucking shit, that hurts.”

“I know,” Javi says apologetically. “We definitely don’t want you to get any infection though.” He swipes the cloth over the injury three more times and just when you start to wonder if he’s a sadist, he finally declares he’s finished and drops the washcloth into the trash. The cool air blowing from the nearby AC unit dries the alcohol and relieves the burning sting. He replaces it with a fresh gauze pad and holds it in place with his left hand while his right works the roller bandage into position. He works quickly and quietly as he winds it around your shoulder and bicep. After securing a knot in the bandage, he sits back and nods affirmatively, content with the job he’s done.

“Now let me see your forehead. We oughta get that cleaned up as well while I’ve got you here.”

You’d almost forgotten about the cut above your eye with the adrenaline wearing off and the pain in your shoulder growing more severe. You reach up absentmindedly and brush your fingers against the now dried and flaking blood stuck in your eyebrow. Javi spills some alcohol onto a gauze pad and your breath catches when he touches the tips of his opposite hand beneath your chin to tilt it towards the overhead light.

He swipes at the dried blood and scrubs it free from your eyebrow. When he passes over the shallow cut, you wince and he apologizes. When it’s clean, he peels open the wrapper on a butterfly bandage and uses the tips of his fingers to try to place it so it’ll pull the cut closed. A small smile tugs at your lips as you watch him press his tongue to his bottom lip as his fingers tremble ever so slightly as he makes sure the small ends of the bandage don’t tear.

“There,” he whispers when he’s sure it’ll stay put. His face is so close to yours and the breath catches in your throat when his eyes drop to yours. “Just like new.”

Time slows to an absolute standstill and you feel yourself inextricably drawn to him, as if there’s some tether pulling you towards him and you really start to wonder if you did hit your head harder than you thought in the chaos because you’re pretty sure he’s also leaning in towards you, which would be crazy because he’s your coworker, but he’s also tilting his head and his face is incredibly close to yours…

Reality snaps back into place like a rubber band against skin when the first aid kit resting on his thighs clatters to the ground. You immediately pull away and drop down off of the stool to pick it up and Javier immediately chastises you doing so.

“Dammit!” He curses and your name sounds sharp on his tongue. “You’ve barely stopped bleeding, don’t jerk yourself around like that.” He snatches the first aid kit from you and splays a hand under your elbow to pull you back up to a standing position. He tosses the kit onto the counter and stalks off into the living room leaving you at the bar wondering what the hell is driving this one-eighty in behavior as he paces back and forth across the carpet.

“Damn, Peña. I’m not going to bleed out on your kitchen floor.” You smirk. “Your jeep, maybe,” you suggest, trying to make light of the sudden tension in the room.

Javier either doesn’t or chooses not to hear you. He loops his thumb through one of his belt loops as he shakes his head and mutters under his breath. “I don’t need this right now.”

Your brow pinches and you hate the heat that rushes to your cheeks. You shuffle your weight from foot to foot and suddenly feel like you’re taking up too much space in the small apartment as he increases the space between you and him. This errant behavior is giving you more whiplash than when you’d taken him to the ground and you’re about to call him out on it, when, without another word, he turns and ducks into his room.

Irritation quickly replaces whatever vulnerability you’d just been feeling. “What the hell does that mean?” You ask, your words clipped and demanding. You walk towards the sounds of him rummaging around inside drawers and come to an abrupt halt as he strides out of his bedroom and presses a ball of fabric into your chest. “This,” he says by way of explanation and takes a dramatic step away from you.

“And by this you mean what exactly?” You know exactly what the this in question is, but you want to hear him say it. Frankly, you’re just as surprised by whatever just happened between you and him, but you’ve worked with each other long enough now to know when the other is severely bullshitting their way through a situation and you have no intention of letting him get away with it.

The smell of his detergent wafts up around you from the shirt in your hands and you take the opportunity to try to awkwardly shrug into it without aggravating the freshly dressed wound. It’s hard to start an argument and be taken seriously when you’re standing toe to toe with someone and you’ve only got on jeans and a black lace bra after all.

As you fumble with the buttons on his shirt, he takes a resigned step backwards and collapses onto the couch. He gestures vaguely at the space between the two of you. His voice is softer when he speaks, tired. “All of this. God.” He runs a hand through his hair and falls back into the cushions. “You,” he says, eyes briefly meeting yours and then at the ceiling.

Your fingers pause mid-fastening. “What about me?”

Javier shakes his head. A wry smile pulls at his lips, rife with disbelief, and it fades as quickly as it comes. “You nearly died tonight.”

You arch a brow and direct a knowing look at him. “Javi, not sure if you were paying attention but we both nearly died tonight. I mean, things moved a little quickly for me to break out my calculator and add shit up, but I don’t think all 30 or 40 of those rounds were meant just for me. I think they were aimed at both DEA agents and they didn’t give a fuck who else got caught in the crossfire.”

“That’s not the point,” he responds resolutely.

“Then tell me what is.”

He doesn’t answer, but sits up and pulls the half crushed pack of cigarettes from his back pocket and slips one between his teeth. As he rolls his thumb over his lighter, you feel your already short fuse ignite. Without giving it a second thought you step forward and snatch the cigarette from between his lips.

“Hey!” He protests, nostrils flaring.

You snap the stick of tobacco in front of him and toss it to the floor. “Enough of the theaterics, Peña.” You stare directly into his eyes, refusing to let him get away with ignoring you. “Quit bullshitting me and tell me what’s really on your mind.”

The sound of the wall clock ticking fills the space and the silence is unbearable, but you refuse to be the first to break. Fifteen more uncomfortably strained seconds tick by before he drops his gaze to the floor and scrubs a hand over his face with a heavy sigh.

He slides over on the couch and pats the cushion next to him. “Sit down, will you?”

You do as he asks and situate yourself at an angle towards him with one leg pulled up across your lap.

“Here,” Javi says as he pulls a throw pillow out from behind him and wedges it gently between you and the couch. “I don’t want you to go and tear open anything I got closed.”

You huff out a quiet laugh and thank him, glancing down at his haphazardly buttoned shirt you’ve got on. You notice you’ve completely misaligned what you’d managed to fasten. Ignoring that for now, you kick at his shin and incline your head towards him. “You done with all the tough guy shit?”

Javier presses his lips together and nods. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that. I don’t know what happened. I just—”

“Just what?”

He lifts his eyes to yours and you watch the way his coffee colored irises flicker in the lamplight. “There's just some lines you shouldn’t cross.”

“This is Bogotá,” you say, mirroring his words from earlier. “There’s a lot of lines we shouldn’t cross.”

“I’m serious,” he responds brusquely, eyes darkening as he shuts you out once more.

You sit up straighter, undeterred by his obvious attempts to push you away. “Yeah, well tough shit, so am I.”

The way he speaks your name is laced with frustration and uncertainty. He’s holding back and your own frustration mounts. You’re tired, you’re in pain, and frankly, now you’re just feeling plain stupid. You’d heard rumors of Javier’s extracurricular activities with women. Did you really want to be another notch in his bedpost?

You let out a low, wry chuckle and shake your head. “You know what, Javier?” You push yourself up and off the couch, wincing as you do so, and look down at him. “Give me a call if you figure out what side of the line you stand on.”

You turn and swiftly move towards the door, swiping your keys and gun off of the counter as you do so. You use your good arm to shove your sidearm into the back of your jeans and unlock the deadbolt on Javier’s front door.

You’ve barely pushed the door open when Javier appears at your side and yanks it closed. Before you can protest, he pushes you up against the door and presses his lips to yours in a devastatingly desperate kiss.

You can’t control the moan that rushes from your mouth into his as you kiss him back. He tastes like mint and menthols and you suddenly can’t remember why you hate the smell of cigarettes so much. The cuts along your back and shoulder blades sting as the wood rubs up against the shirt Javier gave you, but with his hands pressed against the expanse of wall on either side of your face, you decide it’s bearable.

That is until you reach up unthinkingly to tangle your hand into his hair and a sharp sting of pain reverberates from your shoulder all the way down to your fingertips.

Javi abruptly breaks off the kiss and his eyes flicker across your face, shining with concern. “Fuck, I’m sorry! I just got caught up in the moment. Did I hurt you?”

You place a placating hand against his chest and feel the erratic beating under your palm. “I’m fine, Jav. Really.”

He licks his lips and you already miss the way they felt against yours. He presses them together and nods. “Good.”

“Good,” you echo. “I guess I should head home though, get some rest. God knows the ambassador is going to want a report on all of this.”

“You got shot, the ambassador can get fucked.”

“Fucked, is what we’re both going to be if we can’t figure out who targeted us.” You sigh and shake off the thought. “I better get going. It’s late.”

Javier stops you from turning to leave. “You’re not walking home alone this late at night.”

“It’s down the street, I’ll be fine.”

“You’re not walking alone.”

“Then walk me home. Your strong male aura will keep danger at a bay,” you add sarcastically.

“No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Then what do you suppose I do?”

“Simple, stay here. I’ll drive you home in the morning.”

“And sit on all that blood? No thanks.”

“Okay fine, I’ll walk you home in the morning.”

You consider the implications of that and choose the safest route. “S’pose I could sleep on the couch.”

Javier shakes his head. “I’m not gonna make you sleep on the fucking couch. You’ll sleep in my bed.”

“And you’ll sleep where?”

“Next to you,” he says smoothly. “If you’ll let me.”

You arch a brow. “And we’ll just…sleep?”

Javi shoves his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and shrugs his shoulders, his smile smug. “Tonight, yes.” He steps forward and takes a hand from his pocket to cup your face gently in his wide palm. He places a tender kiss upon your lips. “Tomorrow night might be a different story.”

“I think I’d be quite interested in reading that,” you respond playfully.

“It’s different than what I’m used to,” Javier says and then adds, “but I think change might not be a bad thing.”

You give him a once over and nod. “I think you’re right about that.”

He smiles, somewhat sheepishly, as he says, “I’m sorry for being such a dick.”

The corner of your mouth quirks as you shrug your good shoulder. “I’m not sorry I pushed your buttons like that. It’s about time you open up and actually let yourself feel your feelings.”

He rubs his thumb across your bottom lip and then drops his hand to curve around your hip and rest on the small of your back. “Let’s get some sleep, huh?”

And that’s how you find yourself lying in bed next to Javier Peña of all people, wearing his shirt to sleep while he snores softly beside you; and you can’t help but wonder how many things had to happen for you to end up here at this moment. His arm drapes over your waist, pulling you in against the steady warmth of his skin and you find that you quite like the way you fit so perfectly against the crook of his body.

In the comfort of his arms, you drift off into an uninterrupted sleep and for the first time since you can’t remember when you don’t dream of Pablo Escobar.

[appleblueberry-pie]

currently going insane over the lack of Yandere!Armin x reader, please deliver 😭🙏

I Know You Like You Know Me

In which Armin Arlert is getting ready to confess to his friend that is also his muse and he secretly calls his lover. He was very patient and articulated very carefully how he decided to approach you with his obsession over you for so long, until one day you call him out on his behavior. He tries to cover his tracks, but you aren't one to fool.

Text Breaker by @cafekitsune

wc: 3,703 words. i needed this badly. thanks for the request.

Armin told himself to give it a few days before he confesses. And usually he would take the first chance possible to talk to you if he picked up on something that needed communicating for. But this was bigger than just a simple argument. Bigger than needing help with homework or finding out how you're going to pay off your tuition, because all of these things he knows how to control and handle. He always finds a way to make things right for you. But this...he can't control this. All these years of studying your mind, your actions and little habits, he doesn't know if you'll give a promising yes. He needs a yes from you. He needs you to need him. Just giving basic interest is enough to please him. Fuck, just giving him a chance is all he needs to show you he's everything you'd ever want and need.

For the millionth time that day, he fiddles with his fingers, staring at the ground in deep thought. "Armin...?" The sound of a familiar saccharine voice has him pulling his head up to the sight of you. The worry melts off his face and, instead, paint a natural smile. "Y/n....I didn't realize your class was over yet. I would've met you by the door." He stands to offer his seat to you. You accept and go to sit down, feeling him take your backpack from off your shoulders. "Oh, you don't have to." "No, no, it's fine." He puts it on for you and watches you watch him. He shoves his hands in his pocket to not embarrass himself and feels heat on his neck when you don't break eye contact. "Are you alright? I tried texting you a few minutes before my class ended and you didn't respond. You looked worried when I found you." He shakes his head. "No, I'm totally fine. I promise. Just thinking about if you ate anything yet," He lies. You look up in thought. "Oh, okay. Oh...yeah, I didn't eat anything today." Armin's smile drops and he pulls you to your feet to drag you in the direction of the cafeteria. "What? Why not? Didn't you eat the breakfast I packed for you?" He gives you a concerned look and you remember finding the randomly placed hot meal in your dorm room this morning. You meant to ask him about that. "Wait, that was you? How did you even get into my dorm-" "You need to eat at least three meals a day. This is why you have headaches, right?" He takes you through the cafeteria doors and you purse your lips at him dodging the question. His hand went from your arm to your hand, holding it like it was meant to be there.

He's been throwing you off these past few weeks. And you want to drop it because he is your friend and you've known him for so long. But you catch him staring at you. Hard. It's always when you're not looking and he thinks you're unaware of it, but his gaze is too strong to ignore even if you wanted to. You also know he overthinks everything you tell him because when you tell him about your classes(the only time you're NOT together), you watch him think over your words as if he's playing it in his head. Like he was there when it happened and was trying to see if your memory was correct. Not only that, certain problems have been reoccurring. And for some reason, these creepy things keep happening to you and it always seems too conveniently strategized, like it was specifically meant to happen to you, for you, like the person knew you. You don't even like thinking too hard about the details, knowing how you get when you're paranoid. And the only person you can tell about your issues is Armin. But what if.....

There's a plate of meatloaf and mashed potatoes in front of you. Armin placed it there. He also has a plate, but his doesn't look as good as yours. Gravy sits on top of the mashed potatoes, so beautifully plated. You got a better slice of meatloaf than him. He stares at you, waiting for you to start eating. You pick up your fork and knife, beginning to eat. It's better than you thought and you realize you did need this. He starts eating when you do.

"I know you didn't eat earlier too." "It's not about me." You give him a stern look. He smiles at you. You sink back into your thoughts while you eat and Armin quickly catches onto your silence. He stares at your blank face. He wants to disrupt your peace, but you've already had a long day.

The rest of the day is spent the same way it was yesterday and the day before. Wake up, go to classes, text Armin between classes, meet at the end of your last class, eat, go back to either yours or his dorm to study, talk, go to bed, repeat. If he wasn't so adamant of sticking together all the time, you would probably have more friends and wouldn't be stuck on campus all of the time. As messed up as that sounds, it's true.

The clock on your wall goes twice as slow as you count down the seconds that this "mandatory" study session takes to end. You knew about this chapter already, having studied it over the weekend when you woke up earlier than you usually would. You watch Armin point at the sentence mentioning something important that you don't really care about anymore and you look up at him. He's already looking at you, waiting for you to show that you understood the words coming out of his mouth.

".....Yeah." He smiles and nods, moving onto the next page. You interrupt his focus, calling out to him, "Um...I think I'm ready to take a break now." He doesn't lift his head from the textbook, pointing a finger up, "..Okay, just in a few minutes, it's a little more in this section that I want to make sure you understand." Before you could control it, you heaved a sigh, shoulders slouching. You hated when he made you do things on his terms. It felt way too controlling and you were beginning to get sick of it. His head snaps up at the sound you make, silence filling the room. You don't look at him, focusing your eyes on the desk in front of you.

"We can take a ten minute break."

He closes the textbook and runs a hand through his hair. "Sorry. I guess I just got a little too deep into the material for a second." He awkwardly smiles, expecting you to respond. But you don't say anything in return. He hesitates, but eventually looks over at you, watching you scroll on your phone. He didn't like your silence. He usually can correctly predict you filling in the silence whenever you feel like you have to. But now, you aren't really responding to anything he's saying and he doesn't know what to do. "Did I do something wrong?"

You put your phone down and look over at him. "You've been pretty controlling lately." His heart drops at your words and he automatically sits up straighter. "W-well, I just....have been trying to make sure that you're on the right track recently. You know, with midterms coming up, responsibilities are-" "Okay, yeah. But you're not my parent or anything. We're both grown adults here." Your face is like stone, unmoving, stern and....intimidating. Armin clenches his jaw. Why are you looking at him like this? Talking to him like this? Is he not being a good lover friend?

More silence between the two of you fills the air. Armin's stomach begins to turn.

"....Sorry. I just want to look out for you. I didn't mean for it to come out any other way. I just...care. That's all." You purse your lips before returning to your phone. Armin averts his gaze and finds himself messing with his fingers. How long has he been doing that? He clenches his hands to attempt to hide his nervousness and stares down at the textbook on the table. This wasn't going to be a good look on him. How is he going to confess when you look at him like that? He's never gotten that from you before. Maybe it's something you two need to discuss later on. Yeah. He'll give this a few days to settle. And if it comes up again, he'll find a way to make it up to you. It just....can't happen now. Not when he's so close to getting you to be his.

The rest of the night passes with the usual routine. By the time you're done getting ready for bed, Armin finished dropping all of his things off at his dorm. He takes a deep breath, sitting on his bed. He needs to go to sleep. He lays down on his bed, on top of the covers, still fully clothed and an arm over his eyes. He's tired and completely drained from today. He needs to go to sleep. Images of you flash in his mind. You eating. Your enticing gaze. Your frown. Your pouting. Your smile. Your smell. He needs to go to sleep. He clenches his jaw, imagining holding you in a tight hug, your body molding perfectly into his, your warmth in his hands and the smell of you imprinting on his brain. Everyday, you remind him of why he's crazy over you and you don't even have to try too hard. He just wants you all to himself.

I need to go to sleep, he tells himself as he speeds towards your room again. He timed it perfectly last time. He knows your full night routine takes about forty minutes. And he surely spent every single one of those minutes thinking to himself how soft your lips taste and how your hands feel on him. His body feels numb, but fully functioning. Blood rushing through his veins, making him sweat at just the thought of you. He hates, absolutely despises, this side of himself. He feels like he lost control of his mind, letting his body tell the story every time he gets this way. He thought he stopped this habit over a month ago, but here he is, ready to see you again. He needs to see you. At least check that you're okay. That's just what he tells himself, but he knows he's only here because he wants a reason to stare at you.

There's a plain of grass behind the dorm building you live in. You're conveniently placed on the first floor, your window at the perfect height for Armin to peek in, and that's exactly where he is, peeking in past your blinds to your sleeping form. His breath fastens, but he tries to stay quiet in case he's too loud. He looks around to make sure no one is out here, but it's just grass and the moon shining down on him.

Fuck, you look so beautiful. That's the big shirt you always wear to sleep. He doesn't know if you have your sleep shorts on underneath the blanket, but that doesn't matter. No...it never took much. His hand sneaks down to the stiff bulge between his legs, eyes stuck on your form. This is wrong. He told himself it's wrong and he knows you'd absolutely hate him for this. But thinking about your eyes on him has him grabbing his hard-on through the pants.

Your hot breath on his neck, telling him he's all you can think about.

Promises of staying together until death tears you apart from each other.

He needs you to want him. He needs you to need him.

Sweat drips down his forehead and his eyebrows are knit together, eyes squeezed shut as he lets himself believe the dream. One hand on the cold wall, the other squeezing his throbbing cock. Fluid leaks from his tip, making the friction a little better than before. He imagines it's you touching him instead of his own hand and it makes his soft pants turn into soft whimpers. He wishes you saw him fucking his own hand just to let him into your room and hold you. He wishes you'd love him and let him love you the way you deserve. He wants nothing more than to just be with you and it aches that you can't see that he loves you.

He opens his eyes and peeks into your window again. Still asleep. But now you're facing his direction. There's those beautiful eyes. Those eyelashes, cheeks, lips and nose that he adores. Open your eyes please, he tells himself in his mind. He wants to see those eyes on him just once, knowing it'd ruin everything between the two of you. He wishes he was in your room again like last time. Being in the closet is so much more intimate than standing outside the window. He misses the smell of you and the sound of your snores. Fuck, he's close.

His knees can't hold up for longer and his thighs are wobbling. His hand tightly grips what it can of the wall and his eyes nearly roll when you shift again. His forehead rests against the wall as he spurts out onto the grass, whatever thought going on in his head melting away entirely. Little gasps leave his mouth as he drains himself, hand slowing down.

He sits there for a second to catch his breath. Silence and a cool breeze brings him back to Earth. He opens his eyes, dizzy. This should be the last time. But he doesn't seem to hold himself to the small promise when worst comes to worst. When he looks into your room again, you're not there anymore. He freezes, body rigid. Did you see him? Did he wake you up? Where did you go? He quickly pulls his pants back up and when he's about to leave, you still don't come back.

He takes his leave.

Today, you complain to him that you didn't really get rest last night. He can't get those words out of his mind. 'Yeah, I don't know, I just couldn't really stay asleep,' you said. It seems too convenient to him. He was paranoid the entire time you two ate. Every time he looks up at your face now, you seem to not really realize how important those words mean to him. The sun was beginning to go down by the time you two reach his dorm room to study. Time felt slow like he was anticipating something shitty to happen, but you didn't really seem to care about how he felt. He hopes it doesn't show on his face.

When you smile up at him, his face relaxes a little. You were talking to him more today. He feels bad because he hasn't really been speaking much. You ask him questions about your homework and he answers. You even cracked a joke, laughing at it yourself. It gets him to loosen up a little. You must've had a bad day yesterday. He hopes it doesn't get like that again.

He offers you a snack during the study break. You accept the granola bar and begins to snack on it. While you eat, he slips out of the room to go to the bathroom.

He walks down the hall, taking his time. His head is low as a few football players pass him, loud and disruptive. He watches them go into a dorm room, not really caring about how annoying they all are to everyone else on the floor. Armin opens the bathroom door, passing his reflection in the mirror. He isn't like them. Isn't as tall as them. Doesn't have their humor. Isn't muscular or anything. He's nerdy, talkative, and doesn't have anything going for him besides his obsession over you. He couldn't fix himself even if he wanted to. But he will do anything if it meant making your life as fulfilling as possible. You're his only hope. His air. His soon to be lover. He's gonna make it right. He has to.

When he comes back, you're back to your work, reading the textbook. He sits down next to you and skims to where he last was. It's silence for a little bit, then he feels your eyes on him. He slowly looks up, meeting your eyes. He gives you a small smile, expecting you to say something. But you just stare at him. His smile stops growing as he watches you stand up.

"Stand up."

He wants to say something, but goes against it, curiosity taking over his will to speak. He stands and looks over at you. You're staring through him. But it's not a stare he's used to. You look like you're looking to humiliate him or something. It makes his neck heat up.

"Is there something that you want to tell me?"

Armin has a million thoughts of all the pervy shit he did not too long ago and settles on shaking his head. "No...? Why? Is something wrong?" A scowl grows on your face at his answer. Does she know? The question flashes through his mind before he can stop it and his heart begins to race. Not now. You walk around to the other side of the desk to lean on his night stand by his bed. "Come over here."

He meets you by his night stand and runs one of his hands through his hair. "I-if something's wrong, please tell me. I don-" "Open this." You point at the top drawer. There's three. You just asked for the first one. His stomach drops at the realization. You looked through his shit. You know about your underwear in his drawer. You saw that he's a nasty fucking stalker that snuck into your room and used your clothes to get off. You hate him. You don't love him anymore.

Your eyebrow raised at his face. Armin is suddenly completely frozen and is staring at you with a disturbing expression you can't describe. You wave a hand in front of his face. It doesn't make him move or blink. You knew he was up to some shady shit. You step forward and that makes him move. "Armin, open it." He opens it. Regular school materials. Pencils. Tape. Sticky notes. A small, hand-sized notebook. You close the drawer.

"Open this one."

Everything he worked so hard for. Years and years of dealing with his own mental state, learning about how to handle himself before he approaches you. Patience got him this far only to ruin it for himself in the end. He doesn't feel so good. He feels sick. His head begins pounding. Armin shakes his head, his eyes glossy.

He sees the anger in your eyes. How long have you known? You go to open the drawer yourself, but his hand clutches yours with a strength you didn't know he had. The grip is too tight and it hurts. You turn your head. His eyes are wide open, veins poking out of his forehead and neck as he pants. "Don't." A surge of energy bursts through you as you snatch your hand away from him.

"I already fucking know what's in there, Armin. You think I'm stupid? All these months of you stalking me. Following me into my class, sitting in the back of a room like a fucking weirdo. Babying me all of the time. Treating me like your wife when I've never even seen you as anything more than a friend. You know, I tried." You begin to rant and Armin shakes his head as if that was going to stop the truth from pouring out of your lips.

"I really wanted this to work between us. But....you don't know how to be normal. I just wanted something normal, I wanted a normal college life, I wanted friends and to party on the weekends.....and do all of these fun things that would...make me feel like me. You just like having someone to control-"

"That's not true! I really do love you! I want you to be happy, just- just tell me whatever-" He gives you a desperate look, reaching his hands out to you even though you back away at every step he takes forward. "No, no, no. Not with you. I can't always be with you. Don't you understand that?" You looked like you were trying to keep piece of your patience and sanity together, and Armin wasn't any better.

"But I love you, Y/n." He closes the gap between you, a distance he dreamed of closing between the two of you. Your eyes widened, hopefully in realization and love, he thinks. His hands hold yours, you stare up at him while he looks down to you just like he always wished to. He ignores your shaking hands. "I've loved you for as long as i've known you. You- you make my heart beat. I think of you when I wake up and go to sleep. I make you meals in the morning, keeping you in mind. I want to wake up with you there and go to sleep with you in my arms. Everything I dream of at night can be with you because you complete me. You're all I need."

His face relaxed into a loving gaze. It looks so true, so real. You never watched a man's face go through emotions so quickly before. Never met someone so obsessed with someone he can't have. His heart skips a beat at every breath you take and you finally realize that the man you've allowed into your life is someone you were told about a million times. He's a stranger. A monster with delusions strong enough to kill reality. This isn't Armin Arlert. You don't know who this man is.

Silence.

It's okay, he thinks. It does take a second to process a love confession. His gaze goes down to your lips, waiting for a yes to come out.

[tennessoui]

modern au where obi-wan works in a used bookshop and they have a wall dedicated to all the pieces of paper they find in donated books (ticket stubs from concerts, old post cards, train tickets, receipts, etc) and it’s a part of Obi-Wan’s job to add to their collection while he’s flipping through and pricing donated books.

in the most recent haul though, he finds a very sweet card that says something like “dear Anakin, I’m so very proud of you for graduating and so happy I was able to see it. The deaths of all of our toasters when you were growing up always felt worth it to see you tinkering with something that made you happy, but now the world will see you as well. Love, mom”

something about this card moves him more than anything else he’s found has. maybe it’s the handwriting, or the sentiment, or the fact that Obi-Wan’s own father just passed away, putting an end to their complicated relationship forever. Whatever the reason, Obi-wan decides to find Anakin and give him his book back, or at very least the card. On the inside cover, there’s a name of the previous owner: Padmé Amidala. perhaps she knows how to get in contact with Anakin.

(meanwhile of course, anakin had misplaced the card in that book he’d never finished reading, which was a political history book Padmé had been after him for years to read. When he and Padmé divorce, both of them downsize and Padmé donates much of her library to various places to make room for the twins’ playroom instead. When a bedraggled but well-meaning bookshop owner shows up at her doorstep with one of those books, she’s all too happy to point him in her ex-husband’s direction, if only it means she doesn’t have to deal with whatever problem Anakin’s found himself in)

(meanwhile of course post divorce single father anakin would love nothing more than a good romp in the sheets with Bedraggled Bookshop Man who appears at his doorstep with the most boring political history in the world - and an old card from his mom who passed away a few years ago. Anakin loves signs from the universe. This seems like a good one.)

[rikiflowers]

the moon is beautiful, isn't it?

Steven Grant is full of surprises and you can't wait to discover them all.

chapter 1

words: 4,889

Steven Grant/Marc Spector/Jake Lockley x female!reader (Marc and Jake appear later)

warnings: p18+ smut (oral female and male receiving), fingering, use of alcohol, virgin!Steven

You fall for him relentlessly. His smile as he guides visitors through the museum's corridors, making full use of his knowledge; his crooked smile when he has the opportunity to talk and answers all the questions from the little ones.  You've worked in many museums and met all kinds of people, but never someone who made your heart flutter like that. Hell, even you think about havings kids, when you see your coworker handling them with the outmost care. The looks you give him when he isn't looking are so uncomfortable even for you in retrospect and you spend many hours in the shower questioning your behavior. But you can't stop there. The man had you completely in his hands and he didn't even know it.

He flirted with you unknowingly, always throwing you a cheeky smile as he walked past you with his group of visitors. Every time your heart seems to stop. You haven't been here long and you feel like everyone knows about your feelings except the person they're directed at. Maybe if you just ignore it well enough they will eventually disappear. After all, you have to concentrate on a job and not indulge in any crushes. And the fact you don’t know if he’s returning the feelings to begin with. A new exhibition doesn't plan itself. Donna has also been pushing for new ideas that you still have to give her. You would get to it straight away tomorrow evening. But today your energies are in the basement. Your sleep schedule is non-existent and this is clearly evident in the deep circles under your eyes that you tried unsuccessfully to cover up with concealer. The fourth coffee today was definitely one too many as you get ready for the end of the day. You're just putting your things out of your compartment when you hear your name - from Steven's lips. You lift your head, your hair falling over your face. He's standing in the doorway and again your heart was pounding too fast for your liking. “Steven?”

He seems restless and struggles with his words. He said something that you couldn't quite understand. "I'm sorry, what?", you push out, words coming out of your mouth to sharp, but it wasn’t intended. You’rejust too nervous around him. 

He clears his throat and runs his hand through his brown curls, which you also wanted to have between your fingertips. Many deaydreams are spent about the softness of brown curls. “Excuse me, I was asking you if you had any plans after work… Maybe you would like a coffee or wine?” 

“Everything but coffee right now,” you reply fastily with a  nervous grin, showing him your shaking hand. Steven's eyes widen as he sees the trembles. Without thinking about it, he holds your hand in his and you froze at the unusual but definitely not bad contact. A tingling sensation runs through your body. Apparently he hadn't thought either and let his body act on its own. You see his ears peeking out a deep red through his beautiful curls. He lets go of your hand far too quickly. “No coffee for you in the near future,” he replied. “I can’t promise that,” you giggle, because the brown drink is your elixir of life. 

“At least for today, if you want…of course,” he assured himself, looking at you expectantly. You give him a smile. “Yes, I want to” He lets out a sigh of relief when you agree. He was really clueless about your feelings. He really thought you would refuse. At the beginning of the day you wouldn’t even have to think about this happening,m

“Let’s go, then,” he grins as he holds out his arm to you and you laugh and wrap your arm around him. The dark-haired man offers you, 

…

You fucked up. Steven looks at you like you've lost your mind. “I can’t believe it…”

“Are you now mistaken about me?” 

The brown-haired man grabbed his chest theatrically. “I have never been so disappointed as I was at that moment. How can anyone prefer the Greek gods to the Egyptian ones?”

“Guilty” Your lips go back to the third glass of wine, feeling the red juice warming you up (or it’s Steven’s presence causing it). “How can you sit here with me after I betrayed you like that?” 

“Your smile makes your betrayal a little better” 

That damn heart pounding again. “And how can I make it completely fine again?” Your leg accidentally brushes against his. You can clearly see the effect in his facial features. The corners of your mouth turn up a little further as you look at him meaningfully. He returns your gaze, but far too intensely. You're literally falling apart under him. 

“Steven?” 

Only when you speak to him does he seem to awaken from his torpor. He clears his throat, embarrassed. “Sorry…I think I had one drink too many, but I was so fascinated by the sight of you, your smile…my first thought when I get up and get ready for work is that smile.” 

You stare at him. Heat rises to your cheeks. 

He misinterprets your reaction. “I said too much again…sorry,” he tried to apologize hastily, running his hand through his brown curls. 

"I could kiss you here now, Steven." 

“I know, I just can’t keep my mouth shut- What?”

You grin again. “You already understood me” 

“Bloody hell…” His eyes keep moving back and forth between your lips and eyes. Everything inside you tingles as you think about kissing him raw, hogging his lips, running your fingers through his hair and pressing yourself against him, hearing your name fall from his lips as you-

“A penny for your thought?” 

“X-rated, my dear,” you reply breathlessly as you take the next sip. “I want to kiss you too, Steven...and have for a long time” You admire your courage and your heart flutters as Steven grins from ear to ear. God, this man was wonderful.

“Thank God we’ve already eaten”

“and the restaurant is closing soon too…” you reply conspiratorially, resting your head on your palm and batting your eyelashes inconspicuously. He sucked in a sharp breath as he leaned back slightly. “We don’t want to exhaust the staff…”

"Exactly…" 

At that moment, Steven's hand shot into the air, signaling to the waiter that you wanted the check. Of course the black-haired man insisted on paying for the meal. You let it go, but you playfully threatened him that you would pay the bill next time. 

He helped you put your coat on, his hands touching your bare skin, sending shivers down your spine and you looked over your shoulder, noticing how close he was to you. His breath brushed your cheek. His eyes became a shade darker as they traveled to your lips. You interrupt the moment, even though you would have liked to pounce on him straight away. You walk out of the restaurant together, your heart pounding in your throat and almost bursting out of your chest. 

The cool evening air hit your face. The city lights illuminated the path. People are making their way along and you realize you're in the way. You take a step back and turn to your companion, who was already looking at you. At that moment you act quickly. Your hands cup his face and your lips press against his. You immediately feel the fireworks in your stomach as Steven immediately returns the pressure of your lips, placing his hand on your neck. As if your lips were a complete puzzle; they fit each other perfectly. You sigh into the kiss. All the tension falls away as you finally got to do what you could only hope for in dreams. Steven became more urgent, running his tongue along your bottom lip and you parted your lips immediately. Your tongue meets his as the tingling in your groin grew stronger. Everything about this man captivated you. His smell, his touch. How will you ever live without it? Your thoughts were already circling around him. 

You break apart breathlessly. Steven leaned his forehead against yours as he looked at you. “Wow…” You giggled in response. Your lips curl into a smile as your hands rest on his shoulders. “Finally...” you replied, quickly kissing the tip of his nose, which made him grin. 

He sighed. “Where have you been all my life?” 

“I could ask you the same thing…” He caressed your cheek lovingly. You didn't want the night to end yet...Everything inside you was tingling and not just from the alcohol. You continued to look into each other's eyes and couldn't keep your eyes off each other. 

“Do you want to come to me for coffee or tea?” 

Without thinking twice, he nodded and gave you a gentle kiss on the lips. “You’re welcome…tea sounds good” Your lips curled into a warm smile. You call a taxi because you didn't feel like taking the train for so long. Steven carefully linked your hands together. While you waited, the handsome man stroked the back of your hand with his thumb. You can't wait to get home and wrap this man in your arms. The thought creeps up on you that maybe it happened too quickly. Maybe you caught him off guard and didn't do it because he wanted to. But then there was the gentle squeeze of his hand. “The taxi is here…” he said, snapping you out of your circling thoughts.  He helps you into the back seat before walking around the car to sit right next to you. You greet the driver and you tell the driver your address. There was some space between you and Steven, but that didn't stop the black-haired man from carefully reaching for your hand and holding it in his. His hands were warm and lay like a blanket over your cold skin. The soft light from the driver gently enveloped you as he looked at you, giving you a small smile before answering the driver. You tune out the conversation a bit, looking out the window as you stroke his hand.

…

The journey seemed to have dragged on forever when you were finally able to get out of the vehicle. You suddenly felt ice cold and Steven seemed to notice that too. He grabbed your waist and pressed you lightly against him. “Do you want my jacket?” 

You just shake your head. “We’re almost there, I can handle it…” you waved him off, chattering your teeth, which made him laugh darkly. You lead him to your apartment complex, nervousness taking over your body. You missed the lock a few times, which made you laugh nervously. His proximity didn't help you much either. The walk to the third floor to your apartment was also stressful because you had to be careful not to fall over your own feet. Why was it all so exciting? Otherwise it wasn't so bad to take someone home with you. You reached the top much too quickly and this time you will catch up more quickly. The cozy warmth of your apartment immediately welcomes you as you lead him inside. 

“Feel at home,” you say over your shoulder as you finally kick off your shoes, which are a little too tight. Steven next to you takes off his jacket, his shoes neatly next to your pumps that have been carelessly thrown into the corner. 

“Wow…that’s a lot of books,” you hear Steven next to you. You grin. Your living room acts more like a kind of library that you've worked hard to build over the years. “May I?” You nod, watching the curly-haired man euphorically examining your bookshelves. You seem to have completely forgotten the intention behind why you are in your apartment. The wetness between your legs is very present and only gets worse as you watch him nuzzle. “You really have to explain to me the background of all these little anime characters!”  You're down bad for him. It's not funny anymore. You go into the open kitchen, rummage through the bottom drawer for the good wine you've been saving for really bad times. 

“A court of thorns and roses? Sounds interesting,” you hear Steven say and you bump into the kitchen counter. You're suddenly next to him at the speed of light and, your head red, you snatch the book out of his hand. “I don’t think that’s your taste,” you stutter out, looking at his big brown eyes. 

“Oh, okay…why, if I may ask?” 

God. What have you gotten yourself into? He doesn't have to know right away that you read Faerie Porn. The wine definitely went to your head. You just give him a wry smile and he slowly seems to understand, looking at you with wide eyes as you put the book back. “Oh yeah, I think I understand” His ears turn a dark color as he avoids your gaze. God. You want him. A little too much. 

"Wine?" 

“Gladly”  

He follows you into the kitchen, sitting on one of the stools as you pour the two of you a drink. You watch his lips touch the glass and he watches you watch him. At this moment everything is happening very quickly. You don't know who will take the step first, but that's irrelevant now. Your body is pressed against the kitchen counter. Strong hands grip your waist as your fingers bury themselves in his soft curls. Warm breath hits your lips and you part them slightly, wetting them. Steven is so close to you and yet you need him even closer. 

“Darlin’… is it okay for me to finally kiss you?” Steven looks between your eyes and lips, waiting for you to back down. Never. “Fuck…please Steven,” you breathe out desperately. That is confirmation enough. Mouths crash into each other, literally devouring each other. Your tongue pushes itself between his lips, which he greets with his. Your heart jumps, your moans encourage the curly-haired man to grab his hands behind your neck and literally press you against him. Breathing heavily, you pull away from each other. Your head rests in the crook of his neck, you feel the goosebumps your warm breath causes on his skin. Steven's fingers run through your hair, kissing your head. 

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this…” 

You hum against his skin, your lips hovering over his neck. “How long?” you breathe, tracing his skin with gentle kisses. He sighs heavily, running his fingers through your strands. “I think you know that yourself, love…” Your lips curl into a smile. 

“...you just want to hear it again, right?” 

You hum in agreement, causing him to chuckle quietly to himself. Rough fingertips reach under your chin, causing you to lift your head so that you have to look into his deep brown eyes. His facial features are relaxed and gentle; the deep circles under his eyes stand out far too clearly on his skin. You carefully move over the pigmented skin. His eyes flicker briefly. Steven's fingers close around your hand, bringing it to his lips before touching each fingertip with his lips. You look at him breathlessly, feeling the tingling sensation in your fingers as his soft lips kiss them. “Love, I fell for you the moment you first walked through the doors of the museum. Your excitement and charm fascinated me from the first second.”

His open and honest words trigger a storm of emotions in you that you can't yet fully understand. You look at him with wet eyes. 

“If you want me, then I’m yours,” he adds afterwards and now you release yourself from your rigidity. “I want you Steven. I want to be yours,” you mirror his answer. He gives you the most beautiful smile before you can't hold yourself anymore and throw your arms around the unsuspecting Steven, throwing him off balance. Together you find yourself on the cold floor of your kitchen. “Steven…oh god, I’m sorry,” you mumble to yourself, stroking the back of his head and hoping he doesn’t get a bump. A gasp escapes him before he starts to laugh, which calms you down a bit. You straddle his lap, your hair tickling his face as you lean over him. What you clearly feel is his bulge pressing against your thigh. You become bold and move your hips slightly, noticing how he gasps harshly, his fingers pressing harder into your upper arm. 

“Very dangerous, what you're planning on doing…” he says, tucking the strands of hair behind your ear, which was useless because they immediately fell into his face. “Does that bother you, sir?” 

“Not in the slightest, My lady”

You move your hips again, grinding against him. A soft moan escapes Steven's lips, only making you go faster. You want to hear more. “Steven…I want to suck you off….is that okay?” 

“Oh god…are you sure?” 

“There’s nothing I want to do more than to taste you.” Just what comes out of your mouth makes the dark-haired boy whimper. "Please…" 

There it is. The magic word. You kiss him gently before getting off his lap and trying to get comfortable between his legs. You run your fingers over his probably aching erection, desperate to be released. You fiddle with the fastening of his pants, Steven helps you pull them down and you slide them off his feet. 

“Darling, wait...the ground is too hard,” he says gently, holding your shoulder. “You just smile. “I want you in my mouth now” 

“naughty girl...” he grins, which sparks fire right between your legs.  “How can I say no to that?”

Your mouth is watering when you finally pull down his shorts and his cock presses against his stomach in its full bloom. “So pretty” Before Steven can respond, you kiss the leaking tip and lick it up. The curly-haired man accidentally grabs your hair harshly, which only makes you moan against his cock.  You try to take all of him into your mouth, but it seems almost impossible. He's just too big. 

“Love...I don’t want this to be uncomfortable for you...” you hear him say softly. This only encourages you even more to take him deeper, so that his cock massages the back of your throat. You don't care. You want him to lose his mind under you. “Bloody hell...” he blurts out, making you grin before you start moving your mouth. Your saliva collects at his base, the sounds of your mouth around his cock making him throb inside you. “Darling…so good…don’t stop,” he blurts out, trying to press his hips against your face. Your fingers claw at his hips, pushing him to the ground. Your pussy leaks at the taste of his cock, his glassy eyes focused on you between his legs. His fingers run through your hair, which falls loosely over your face. “So pretty…if you could see you, love” 

You moan around his cock, going faster. You gag, but try to continue with your fast pace. You want to see him coming. Want to hear the highest notes from his velvety lips. Your fingers cup his balls. You suck on him, feeling his thighs start to shake. “Darling…I’m coming…wait” 

You keep going, wanting him to cum in your mouth. “hell…I’m coming in your mouth…” 

You finally taste his cum on your tongue and hear your name on his lips before you start swallowing everything his cock gives you. You feel some of his juice running down the corner of your mouth. You suck him dry before slowly letting go of him, his cock gently in your hands. 

Out of breath, Steven sits up, cups your face to wipe your lips, ridding you of his remains. You take his fingers and put them in your mouth, licking them clean. The curly haired man sucks in a sharp breath. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth and alternates them with his lips. You sigh into the kiss, cupping his cheeks. You smile at each other. 

“I don’t want to spoil the mood…but my ass is freezing like hell”, the pretty man exclaimes, earning a snort from you and you both heave yourself off the ice-cold floor. “And, already exhausted?” you grin at him, your hand scratching the back of his neck. He smiles, his white teeth biting his bottom lip. “Darling…you just gave me the best blowjob of my life…it would only be fair if I gave it back to you…”

The prospect alone makes your pussy throb around nothing. “If you can do that?” you wink challengingly, which only makes him raise his eyebrows. He takes up your challenge. You grab his hand, leading him to your bedroom. You push him onto the edge of the bed. “Oh you’re so lovely when you’re feisty like this,” he breathes out, looking up at you, desire reflected in his eyes. You brush your fingertips along his chin. “I have to admit...I'm a little excited,” the curly-haired man whispers, his fingertips brushing your arm that you've rested on his shoulder. “Me too…” you reply with a grin. He shakes his head, lowering his head slightly. Your gaze turns to him questioningly. “You don’t quite understand…when I said you gave me the best…you know…that was actually my first” 

Steven speaks so quietly that you almost missed it. “Oh,” is the first thing that comes out of your mouth, without really thinking about his revelation first. “Are you still a virgin?” 

His beautiful head nods. You feel bad at the moment. Have you perhaps pushed him to do something he wasn't ready for? “I know how uncomfortable this is for you…” 

“Steven,” you interrupt him gently. “Look at me.” 

He slowly lifts his head and you immediately hold him, caressing his cheeks. “Why should I be uncomfortable? I just think that if I had known that, I would have slowed down. You don’t have to be embarrassed” 

“I didn’t want to scare you,” he replies, leaning into the touch of your hand. “You can’t scare me, but I understand your thought process,” you reassure him. “Shall we cuddle?” you ask gently. “Darling…you can’t want to cuddle right now,” he replies in disbelief, making you laugh. "Why not?" Your fingers run through his dark curls again. “Because I want to know what you taste like,” he mumbles, his face bright red. This makes your heart beat faster. “Steven…” 

“May I…please?”

How could you say no to that pleading look and words? You are a whole lake down there thanks to him and he would soon discover that for himself. “Fuck okay…” you reply. Everything inside you is tense. He runs his fingers painfully slowly over the contours of your body, which were still far too covered by your clothing. “Darling, will you please take off your clothes for me and lie on the bed?” You nod quickly before literally ripping your clothes off, not avoiding his gaze. You can clearly feel how excited he is, but you can't help it. You also take off your old bra and panties. You would surprise Steven with your good underwear next time. You can't wait to see the look in his eyes when he sees you...

But now he looks at you with shining eyes as you stand completely naked in front of him. You feel like a teenager about to experience his first time. It's your first time too; with him. You close the distance to him, wanting to feel his skin under your fingertips. “Don’t you want to take off your clothes too?” Your heart is pounding even though you already had his cock between your lips. God, his dark eyes looking at you as he unzips his shirt. You see him struggling with the buttons and your fingers are quicker, fumbling around to open those annoying buttons. You're way too impatient. Your hands grasp his shoulders, pulling him onto the bed with you. Steven lets out a surprised sound as he leans over you. Finally he pulls his shirt off his shoulders and throws it on the floor. Suddenly Steven pushes his knee between your legs, rubbing it against your pussy. You gasp and claw at his back, causing a growl to escape him. “Steven…” 

“Yeah, Darling?” 

“Touch me…please” You no longer recognize the voice that says that. You've never been so desperate...

His thumb traces your bottom lip. “Show me where…” 

You reach for his hand, guiding it to your tormenting wetness between your legs. His knee on your pussy disappears, but his fingertips run over your vulva. Everything inside you convulses with anticipation. Two of his fingers tentatively move between your folds. A whimper escapes you as Steven's eyes are on you, watching the movements of your face. His lips part slightly as he moves along your pussy, slowly starting to rub your clit. Your fingers curl into the bed sheets as he explores you. His fingers on your wetness results in the slick sound, which makes you a little uncomfortable. You try to avoid his piercing gaze and close your eyes. 

Steven harshly penetrates you with a finger. You suddenly open your eyes and press your pussy against him. “Fuck...Steven...” you gasp out, spurring him to take a second finger and sink it into you harder. 

“Exactly like that?” he breathes against your open lips as he rubs his thumb over your clit and you can barely hold yourself up. You mumble unintelligible words, lifting your head to feel his lips on yours. Steven grants you the kiss, your tongues mingling together as he purposefully curls his fingers. This almost made you lose your mind. “Steven oh my God!” you practically screamed, you would definitely wake up the neighbors. “Darling….more of this…” he speaks darkly. And you give it to him with ease. YOU are way too close to your orgasm. 

“I..I’m going to cum.” 

“Love, cum for me” He kept the pace, rubbing your clit in just the right places. The climax literally hits you. Steven is there, holding you tightly in his arms while his fingers are inside you. He clearly felt your climax. Your pussy throbbed around his fingers and your name left your lips in a strangled moan. Under Seven's lascivious gaze, the waves pull you along. Your hips fell onto the mattress. He slowly pulls his fingers out of you, looking at them with fascination. Your juice glistened in the dim light and suddenly he put it in his mouth and licked it clean. This scene literally takes your breath away. With your heart still racing, you watch as Steven suddenly places himself between your legs and pushes your thighs apart. “Steven…What?” 

“I have to taste you…” he breathes darkly before he disappears his face between your legs and you have to watch helplessly as the beautiful man devours you. Your thighs automatically close around his head before he grabs the flesh of your thighs and pushes them apart again. You claw at his dark curls, making him moan against your wet pussy. His one hand reaches for your breast, kneading it while his tongue licks your folds. The smacking makes everything even more perverse. 

“Steven...I can't take it anymore...oh!”, your whimpers get louder, but Steven doesn't listen to your words, instead he sucks a clit to drive you crazy. How can he be so good? He's a virgin...That doesn't make any sense. Your thoughts are a mess that quickly disappears as the next painful orgasm approaches far too quickly. 

“I'm coming - Fuck!” you let out from your lips as everything inside you tenses and you fall onto the mattress. Steven slowly lets go of you and you lift your head, exhausted, to look at him. His lips are shiny with your juices. Your hands pull him towards you so you can press your lips to his and taste yourself. Your skin sticks to his as you start trailing kisses down his jawline and neck. You feel his hard cock pressing against your thigh.

“Steven…I thought you were a virgin?”

He looks at you with those big, gentle eyes. “I am Darling…did I do well?” 

The tingling sensation in your pussy is answer enough. A giggle escapes you. “You just gave me my second orgasm. I think that says it all, right?” 

His ears actually turn red. You run your fingers over the warmth of the shell of his ear, a gentle smile on your lips. 

“Steven…you’re beautiful.” 

He shyly places his head in the crook of your neck and gently kisses the area under which your carotid artery pulsates. “Oh darling…don't flatter me too much” 

“It’s no flattery…”, you reply softly, massaging his scalp. “I mean it” Steven buries himself against your body and you let him, feeling his heartbeat against yours, moving in the same rhythm. Oh. Oh. 

You like him a little bit too much. Words wait on your tongue, ready to be spilled out, but your mind holds them back. For now you just enjoy his warmth, lulling you slowly into a well needed sleep.

...

[otomehoneyybearr]

Kagari Amagase

The Dangerous Lynx Clumsily Seeks Affection

**Really quick, I want to make this note to show appreciation for the other amazing people who translated this story too! There’s one by Cirilla-fiona-riannon, Cosmowgyral, and Cheshireliam! They put a lot of effort into it and are great at what they do, so please check out their posts and show your support! Thank you!!🌹

Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | His POV | Epilogue

Some time had passed since I visited Ruby with the owner, and today, the town was livelier than usual, bustling with energy. 

Emma: “Prince Kagari’s birthday?” 

Townswoman: “That's right! It’s become a tradition for the whole town to celebrate it.” 

Emma: “So that’s why it’s so lively today...” 

(I had no idea today was Prince Kagari’s birthday.) 

The townspeople seemed to be in high spirits, and the scent of dorayaki wafted from every direction. 

Townswoman: “You should also join in on the celebration.” 

Townswoman: “I’m sure Prince Kagari would be delighted if someone like his favorite were to celebrate with him”

The woman, whom I had become acquainted with after coming to Ruby, gave me a bright, innocent smile, gently encouraging me. 

Townswoman: “Come, come! If you’re having trouble picking a present, I can help you decide.” 

Emma: “Thank you, but since this is a special occasion, I’d like to think of something on my own.” 

(What’s going on? I feel like I’m being pressured somehow… or maybe it’s just my imagination?) 

Seemingly satisfied with my answer, the woman cheerfully wished me luck before walking away. 

(Setting aside whether or not I’m his.... ‘favorite’, Prince Kagari has helped me countless times since I came to Ruby.) 

(Now that I know it's his birthday, there’s no way I won’t celebrate!) 

(Alright...!) 

.... 

(...Huh, what’s with this long line!?) 

When I arrived at the castle with the present tucked in my bag, I was met with an overwhelming crowd of people in the square that had also come to celebrate the demon. 

(Swordsmen, nobles… and even commoners. There’s so many people here!) 

Then, I spotted a figure with striking red hair at the front of the line. 

Even from afar, I could see Prince Kagari expressionlessly accepting an unending stream of congratulatory words and gifts. 

(He looks completely indifferent, like it has nothing to do with him. He doesn’t seem to be enjoying it at all.) 

I stood on my toes to get a better look when, suddenly, our eyes met. 

(...Prince Kagari was always quick to sense people’s gazes, so he probably noticed me.) 

(I might have been staring too much and distracted him.) 

I quickly averted my eyes and took refuge under a nearby cherry blossom tree. 

(Still, what should I do? With so many people here, it’ll be difficult to find a chance to give him my gift.) 

(I wanted to do it on his actual birthday, but maybe I should come back another day—wait, huh?) 

When I absentmindedly glanced back, Prince Kagari was no longer there. 

Instead, standing there was one of his aides. 

And strangely enough, despite the Demon himself no longer being there, people were still offering their wishes and gifts as if nothing happened. 

It was a strange sight. 

???: “You’re wide open, Princess.” 

(!?) 

I turned around at the sudden whisper in my ear, only to have my mouth covered by a hand. 

Before I could react, I was swiftly pulled into the shade of the tree, my back softly hitting against the rough bark. 

Emma: “Mmph...!” 

(When did Prince Kagari get behind me...!?) 

I struggled, but he effortlessly pinned me against the tree, bringing his face dangerously close. 

I thought my heart might stop. 

Kagari: “Will you promise to stay quiet?” 

I nodded eagerly, and finally, he removed his hand from my mouth. 

But the distance between us didn’t change, his arms still trapping me between him and the tree. 

(Calm down, Emma.) 

(Prince Kagari is probably just sticking close to avoid being seen by anyone.) 

I instinctively lower my voice, being careful not to let my breath reach him. 

Emma: “...Why are you here, Prince Kagari?” 

Kagari: “I saw you.” 

Emma: “Were you looking for me?” 

Kagari: “You had called for me.” 

(Is that how it looked to him…?) 

I felt both a sense of guilt and a strange fluttering in my chest.

Kagari: “If you were planning to wait in line, I’d advise against it.” 

Kagari: “That line won’t end until nightfall.” 

Emma: “It’s that long…?” 

Kagari: “Then there’s a banquet tonight that lasts until dawn.” 

(They really put their all into celebrating the entire day. But that's to be expected for someone as important as the Demon of Kogyoku.) 

Even while I was impressed by it all, Prince Kagari’s expression remained unreadable. 

He gazed at the never-ending line with a look so cold that made it hard to believe he was the one being celebrated. 

(I guess Prince Kagari isn’t interested in celebrating his own birthday.) 

(...What if he thinks I'm being a bother?) 

Kagari: “So, why are you here?” 

I instinctively looked away. 

Emma: “……Um……since so many people had gathered, I was just curious and…” 

(I can’t bring myself to say that I came to celebrate, too.) 

I shift my bag behind me, hiding the gift inside. 

Prince Kagari fell silent for a moment. 

The awkward silence stretches for so long that the distant noise of the town feels even farther away. 

(Did he see through me…?) 

However, instead of pressing the matter, he simply grabs my wrist. 

Kagari: “Princess, will you come with me?” 

Emma: “Huh? I… Prince Kagari?” 

Despite his words, he somewhat forcibly led me through the crowd, keeping us out of sight as we made our way toward the castle... 

Once inside, he tossed me into a room before returning with a large basket from somewhere. 

Kagari: “First, put this on.” 

Emma: “A...Hakama?” 

Kagari: “Then wrap this around your face.” 

Emma: “A scarf?” 

Kagari: “Finally, hangthis on your waist.” 

Emma: “…A sword!?” 

Kagari: “And tie your hair up.” 

Emma: “Um…?” 

(Why is he suddenly making me change clothes?) 

I tilt my head in confusion as I take the items he handed me, one after another. 

Then, Prince Kagari picks up the hakama and reaches for my clothes. 

Kagari: “If you don’t know how to put it on, I’ll help you.” 

Emma: “—No! I-I’ll do as much as I can on my own!” 

(I’m not sure what’s going on, but it should be fine, right...?) 

........

(—So, why is this happening...?)

Next

Please feel free to skip this part! I’ve been interested in occasionally doing translation notes, explaining some terminology that I think are a bit nuanced or have multiple translations. Sorry if it’s a bit wordy but hopefully it’s helpful if you ever run into words like these or just fun to read! ❤️

*Translation notes:

山猫: The literal translation of this is mountain cat; 山 (yama) - mountain, 猫 (neko) - cat. It’s often translated to wildcat; however, seeing the animal on Kagari’s motif, I think it’s possible that they are referring to a lynx (specifically a Euroasian lynx) but I might be wrong!

おひいさん: I’m preeetty sure his nickname for Emma “おひいさん” (o-hii-san) is just a derivative of おひいさま(o-hii-sama)….. which then derives from おひめさま (o-hime-sama) lol. The literal translation for all of this is princess, but, as Emma isnt a princess in the literal sense, it becomes nuanced to mean a lady with a pure heart, yet naive/ignorant to what’s going on in the world. (Hopefully that make sense 😭)

*From what I've seen, when “ああ” is used in manga, anime, game, etc.. more often than not, it means “yeah” or “yep”. It’s not really something said in everyday life, but more of a stylistic choice made to add charm to a character's dialogue.

Those are the only notes I could come up with off the top of my head, but, again, I hope it was helpful!!🌹

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