#this ask really couldn’t have come at a better time 😁

[mrspiastri]

✩ feels like P1 🏆

pairing: oscar piastri x desi!reader

cw: fluff, mentions of australia 2025 (😔)

wc: 4k words

an: based on this lovely request, and in honour of osc being the wdc leader 😁😁😁😁😁

Oscar had just begun his third season in Formula 1, and he was more pumped than anyone could imagine. He had the fastest car, the best strategies, the quickest team, and most importantly the most valuable teammate.

To anyone else, it would have been simple to see that he would win the WDC this year, however Oscar Piastri was everything but overconfident.

He knew he wanted this year to be perfect, from start to finish, he wanted to win all 24 races if possible, and win all the sprints, and start on pole for every single race.

Unfortunately, he had some tough competition, and he knew better than to relax. He spent the first two weeks of winter break shuttling from Bahrain to Woking, and after that flew straight to Melbourne, to spend the holidays with his family.

Of course, Y/N had opted to fly to Australia in advance, so she could wait for Oscar, and also because she wanted to spend time with the family. They welcomed her with open arms, as they always did.

She spent her summer days relaxing on the beaches in St. Kilda, and making sure she didn’t get bit by a spider. However, she still missed her boyfriend.

The very boyfriend who was Facetiming her from his hotel room in Bahrain.

“You know Osc, with the amount you call me, someone would think you’re going through withdrawals,” She commented as she snuggled into the sheets of Oscar’s childhood bedroom, the same room she loved because it showed her what her boyfriend was like before they met.

“Very funny, God forbid I miss my own girlfriend.” Oscar grumbled as he laid back on the bed, hair damp from a shower— with what, according to Y/N, seemed to be a towel around his waist.

“Did you call just to be dramatic?”

“No… I called because I miss you. Like, really miss you. Like, I physically cannot sleep on this hotel pillow because it doesn’t smell like you. And it’s too quiet. And I tried making chai with the tea bags in the hotel room and it tasted sad.”

Y/N tried her hardest to stifle her grin, as she pouted in sadness on his behalf. “Oh, you poor baby.”

“I am a poor baby, and I need you to do that thing you do where you scratch behind my ear when I’m half-asleep.”

“That reminds me, I did the same thing to Basil today, and she was asleep in less than a minute!” Y/N giggled as she informed her only slightly amused boyfriend.

“Are you telling me I’m no different than a dog?”

“No, but if the shoe fits…”

“That’s it I’m ending the call,” Oscar couldn’t hide the smile on his face as he pretended to be mad at Y/N.

“Aww come on Osc, let me see you when you’re all freshly washed. The no-shirt look is really doing it for me.”

“You’re such a perv sometimes, you know that.”

She only laughed in response, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

“Your shirt’s really nice, that green looks good on you,” he commented.

“I should hope it looks good, it’s yours.”

Oscar’s eyes widen, and he squints them a bit to really focus on the details of her clothing.

“What? I only have like three t-shirts I own, the white one, the black one, and my maroon one. Not counting my McLaren kit.”

“Yeah you idiot, it’s from the home race collection. The folks at OP81 merch sent a package over to your Mum’s house.”

He sat up straighter, eyes relaxing as he let himself admire how she looked on his screen.

“Well, show me how it looks,” he requested, bossy as ever.

“I already did, you just saw it.” Y/N interjected.

“Give me a proper look, with the whole twirl and everything.”

Y/N groaned in mock annoyance.

“Only if you say please.”

A sigh.

“Please.”

“No, say it properly, the whole sentence.”

“Please, show me the outfit.”

“Noo! Say it properly, like you mean it!”

Another sigh, longer this time.

“Please darling, show me your outfit.”

“Alright, since you asked so nicely. And wipe that smirk off your face, Piastri.”

Y/N stood up, balancing her phone carefully so Oscar could get a full view. With an exaggerated sigh, she did a slow twirl.

“There,” she said. “Happy?”

Oscar’s grin spread across his face. “Extremely. You look unfairly good in my stuff.”

“I know,” she replied, flopping back onto the bed. “It’s a gift.”

She tugged the hem of the shirt down over her bare thighs as she got comfortable again.

Oscar narrowed his eyes a bit. “Are you even wearing shorts?”

Raising a brow, she gave him a smug look. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Y/N,” he warned.

She burst into laughter. “Relax, I am.”

Oscar leaned back against the hotel headboard, arms crossed, lips twitching in amusement. “Still unfair. I leave for two days and suddenly you’re raiding my wardrobe like it’s your birthright.”

“To be fair,” she said, “I only took one shirt. And it’s not raiding if we live together.”

“It’s raiding when you steal the best-looking one.”

“You’d rather I take the ugly one?”

“No. I’d rather you wear it when I’m there to appreciate it properly.”

She smirked, settling back into her pillow and letting the phone rest on her stomach.

“You’re being dramatic again.”

“You knew what you were doing,” Oscar accused, eyes narrowing playfully. “Answering my FaceTime like that, casually pretending you didn’t know it was my shirt.”

“Caught red-handed.”

“You’re evil.”

“Whatever,” she said, “you still miss me like crazy.”

Oscar groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “So much it’s actually embarrassing. Travelling anywhere sucks when you’re not with me.”

“You say that like you’re not there driving one of the fastest cars on the planet.”

“Yeah, and still nothing tops coming home and finding you in my shirt, hair all messy, acting like it’s just another Tuesday.”

She blinked, a little caught off guard by how warm his voice had gotten. He had his ways of making her feel special,

without even realising what he was doing.

“Oscar…”

He shrugged, quieter now. “Just saying. Save that shirt for when I get back, yeah?”

She smiled, teasing again. “Only if you have the best lap times.”

“Wow. Blackmail.”

“Motivation.”

He laughed, eyes lingering on her a second longer before nodding.

“Deal.”

🪻🪻🪻

The house was unusually quiet.

Even with the buzz of Oscar’s family around, his mum fussing with teacups, his sisters glancing occasionally at the shows playing on the television, there was a stillness in the air. No one spoke much. The energy was muted, heavy in a way only a home crowd disappointment could bring.

Oscar had finished P9. Not bad, considering his slippage in the grass. But not what he or the country had hoped for, not after a weekend that had started so strong.

He was still at the track, locked in media obligations and debriefs, and Y/N could already imagine the weight of it all pressing down on his shoulders.

She stood up from the couch, tugging her sleeves down over her hands. “I’m gonna make something. He’s probably not eaten properly.”

Nicole looked up. “That’s a good idea, darling. What were you thinking?”

“Khichdi,” Y/N said, already heading toward the kitchen. “It’s what I usually make when he’s drained. He likes it more than he’ll admit.”

Nicole smiled softly, rinsing out her mug and moving aside so Y/N could work. “Something warm and simple sounds perfect.”

She knew his comfort foods by heart now.

Not toasties or chips or anything overly greasy, no, not tonight. He needed warmth. Reassurance. Something that felt like being wrapped in a hug.

So she went with what he always asked for on days he was sick or just tired of the world: khichdi. Soft rice and lentils, simmered with ghee, turmeric, a little cumin, and a side of spiced potatoes the way he liked them.

It was also the simplest thing she could make quickly, since the excitement of race week didn’t let them go grocery shopping for fancy ingredients.

Y/N pulled her hair into a ponytail, washed her hands, and opened the pantry. She moved quickly, finding the rice, the lentils, the spices; already laying them out on the counter.

Hattie padded into the kitchen and perched on a stool. “Do you need help? Or moral support? I’m very good at taste-testing.”

Y/N chuckled, setting the dal to soak. “You can peel the potatoes.”

“On it,” Hattie said, dragging a chopping board toward her and grabbing a peeler. “Oscar’s going to cry when he sees this. Bet on it.”

While the dal and rice soaked, Y/N got a pan going with ghee, mustard seeds, a few curry leaves, all of which she had picked up from her own stash brought over from home. The smell began to fill the room, earthy and warm.

Nicole drifted over and leaned against the counter, watching her with quiet admiration. “He’s really lucky, you know.”

Y/N smiled without looking up. “I think I’m the lucky one. He puts up with me.”

Nicole scoffed. “You’re cooking for him and putting up with his post-race sulking. That’s love.”

As the khichdi began to simmer, she threw in turmeric, a bit of grated ginger, salt, and cumin. She stirred slowly, letting it thicken, the grains softening into the kind of texture that wrapped around you like a blanket. Meanwhile, Hattie finished the potatoes and helped toss them in oil and spices, sliding them into the oven with a grin.

“Do I get a Michelin star now?” Hattie asked.

“You get points for not setting anything on fire,” Y/N teased.

Nicole pulled out a couple of plates and laid them out on the table as the final touches came together.

By the time the front door opened and the sound of Oscar’s keys hit the bowl by the entrance, the kitchen was filled with the golden scent of comfort and home.

The khichdi was ready, the potatoes crispy at the edges, and the quiet heaviness of the house had softened just a bit, thanks to turmeric, ghee, and the shared rhythm of care.

Oscar stepped inside as she was dishing out his portion. He looked exhausted. The weight of the day clung to him like a second skin. His cap was low over his forehead, eyes duller than usual.

He blinked as he stepped into the kitchen.

“You cooked?” His voice was rough, caught somewhere between surprise and something else. Something softer.

Y/N smiled, placing the bowl on the table. “Of course I did. You look like you need a hug and a hot meal.”

Nicole gave him a kiss on the cheek as she passed, and Hattie patted his back before stealing one of the roasted potatoes off his plate.

“Khichdi?” he asked, eyes fixed on the bowl.

“Yeah,” Y/N said, gently. “And potatoes. Sit. Eat.”

Oscar closed the gap between them in two quick steps and wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her shoulder. He smelled like the track, sweat, heat; and now like home.

“You’re the best part of this whole weekend,” he murmured against her neck.

Y/N kissed the side of his head and squeezed him tighter.

“You’ll get the win here one day. You know that, right?”

He didn’t answer right away, just held her like he needed to remember what grounding felt like.

“I know,” he said quietly.

“And until then,” she whispered, “you’ve got a girl who’ll keep your tummy full and your ego in check.”

He huffed a laugh, finally pulling back just enough to look at her properly.

“God, I love you.”

She smiled. “I know. Now eat before your food gets cold.”

He tugged her into one last hug before taking his seat, already reaching for his spoon with a familiar sort of hunger.

As she sat down beside him, Oscar laced their fingers under the table.

🪻🪻🪻

The only things audible were low hum of the fridge, the occasional swishing of the dishwasher, and the soft clink of cutlery as Oscar finished off the last of the potatoes directly from the tray.

Y/N was curled up on the couch, one leg tucked beneath her, the same oversized green OP81 shirt falling lazily off one shoulder. Her hair was still in that loose bun, a little messier now from the steam of cooking and leaning against the cushions.

Oscar walked in with two mugs of hot chocolate, handing her one before sinking beside her. His eyes lingered on her for a moment, brow quirking.

“You know,” he said, “I just realised something.”

She looked over at him with mock suspicion. “That’s never a good sign.”

He ignored her, gesturing toward her shirt. “That’s the same one you wore when we were on call. The FaceTime from Bahrain.”

Y/N glanced down at herself, trying to fight the smile tugging at her lips. “Is it?”

“You knew it was,” he said, narrowing his eyes at her, a faint smile playing on his lips. “You’re so annoying.”

She sipped her tea innocently. “I just like the colour.”

Oscar gave her a knowing look, then leaned in a bit closer, his voice dropping to something gentler. “You look really cute in it.”

Y/N’s cheeks flushed just a little, but she tilted her head, keeping up her act. “Just cute?”

He gave a low hum, setting his mug down on the coffee table.

“No,” he said simply, his eyes scanning over her. “You look really good in my clothes. They look way too hot on you.”

Y/N’s smirk faltered for half a second, and she looked away, half-hiding behind her mug. “You’re being dramatic again.”

“Am I?” he asked, nudging her foot with his. “You think I forgot the way you sat there on call, pretending like you didn’t know it was my shirt, driving me absolutely insane right after a shower?”

She laughed, lowering her mug. “Hey I was too busy admiring the view you were showing me, besides I thought you needed motivation.”

Oscar leaned back, arm stretched out along the back of the couch, fingertips barely brushing her shoulder.

“I don’t need motivation,” he said softly. “I just need to come home to this. To you.”

That time, her smile dropped for real, replaced with something quieter, something warm.

“Good,” she murmured, setting her tea aside and curling into his side, “because I’m not giving your shirts back.”

Oscar rested his cheek against the top of her head, letting out a quiet breath.

“I was hoping you wouldn’t.”

🪻🪻🪻

Oscar sat still, one arm around Y/N, the other resting limply on his lap. Her head was tucked beneath his chin now, breathing slow, and her fingers absently tracing little circles over the fabric of his hoodie.

Outside, the street was quiet. Melbourne’s chaos had finally settled. Inside, the only thing louder than the ticking clock in the hallway was his own thoughts.

P9.

It had stung more than he expected.

He’d pushed, taken risks, held his breath more times than he could count. The home crowd, the roar in Turn 1, the endless pressure of this weekend. He wanted a podium. He wanted more than points. And when he crossed the line, all he felt was this dull, aching hollowness.

Because he wanted to win, for the team, for the fans, for his family.

For her.

Oscar closed his eyes briefly. He remembered the sound of God Save The King echoing as Lando stepped up to the top step. The taste of disappointment, how it clung to the back of his throat during interviews. The polite claps. The fake smile. The crushing feeling of not being good enough on the one track that felt like home.

But then he came home.

And she had made him khichdi.

Warm, soft, comforting. Just like her.

She didn’t try to fix it with words. She didn’t tell him he should be proud or that P9 was still good. She just handed him a plate and looked at him like he wasn’t a result. Like he wasn’t someone the world measured in lap times.

He glanced down at her again, heart clenching a little.

Y/N. With her soft hair and stolen shirts and quiet affection. The way she could command a kitchen but still act coy when he told her she looked good. How she knew exactly what to say, and more importantly, when not to say anything at all.

She’d rooted herself into his life so naturally, so completely, that he couldn’t remember what comfort looked like without her in it.

It wasn’t just that she made things better.

It was that she was the better.

🪻🪻🪻

Y/N was rambling about a movie she’d half-watched on the flight back to Melbourne. Something about a chaotic rom-com with bad pacing and good outfits. She talked with her hands when she was animated, her eyes lighting up even though she clearly didn’t care that much about the plot.

Oscar barely registered the words. His eyes were fixed on her mouth, the soft curve of her lips, the way she bit the inside of her cheek while trying to remember an actor’s name. She was glowing in the low, warm light of the living room, sitting cross-legged on the couch like she had belonged there forever.

And it hit him, like a crash he couldn’t brace for.

He loved her. Fully. Wildly. In a way that went straight to the pit of his stomach and made it hard to breathe.
It wasn’t a slow build. It was immediate. Overwhelming.
Undeniable.

And he couldn’t hold it back.

She was mid-sentence, something about the main character making a terrible decision; when he leaned in, cupping her jaw gently, eyes searching hers for only a heartbeat before he kissed her.

It was soft at first, just the brush of his mouth against hers. She stilled, surprised, hands caught in the air between them. But then he pressed in closer, kissing her properly. Deeper. Like he needed it. Like he’d been holding it back for days, weeks, maybe longer.

His hand slipped to the back of her neck, thumb brushing behind her ear as he tilted his head, letting the kiss turn warmer, fuller. She melted into him easily, fingers fisting the fabric of his t-shirt, lips parting under his as the kiss grew heavier. Hungrier.

Her breath hitched when he pulled her closer, one knee shifting so their bodies aligned more naturally. He kissed her like he was telling her everything he couldn’t yet say. With so much care it ached. With so much want it left her dizzy.

When he finally pulled back, he stayed close, forehead resting against hers, both of them catching their breath.

She blinked at him, dazed. “What was that for?”

Oscar didn’t answer right away. He just looked at her. Really looked. Eyes soft, lips swollen from the kiss, cheeks slightly flushed.

“Marry me.”

Everything in the room seemed to freeze. Her breath caught. Her fingers, still clinging to the front of his t-shirt, went limp.

She blinked. “What?”

Oscar leaned back just slightly, eyes still holding hers, but a crooked, sheepish smile tugged at the corner of his lips now. “Not now,” he clarified quickly, his thumb brushing over her wrist in slow reassurance. “I mean… eventually. Not this second, not tomorrow. But, marry me. Someday.”

Y/N opened her mouth. Closed it again. She didn’t know what to say. Her brain was moving too fast, heart thudding loud in her ears.

He rushed on, gentle but urgent, as if trying to give her all the space in the world while still holding her close.

“I know it sounds insane, I do. And I didn’t plan to say it tonight, I swear. I just…” He exhaled, voice softening. “I love you so much it actually hurts. I didn’t even care that I came P9 today, not after seeing you. And when I kissed you just now, I couldn’t stop thinking how I wanted to keep coming home to you for the rest of my life. That’s all. That’s it.”

Y/N’s lips parted again, and this time, a small breath of laughter slipped out; shaky, surprised, but full of warmth. Her eyes glittered, tears threatening to rise, and she shook her head in disbelief.

“You’re such a dramatic loser,” she whispered, smiling through it.

Oscar grinned. “I know. But I meant every word.”

She leaned forward again, pressing her forehead to his, the tips of their noses brushing.

“You love me,” she said softly, like she was testing the weight of it.

“I do.”

“And you want to marry me.”

“Desperately.”

Y/N’s smile turned into a quiet laugh, and her hands slid up his chest slowly, curling around the back of his neck.

“Yeah,” she whispered. “Someday, I’ll marry you.”

Oscar’s eyes fluttered shut, and he exhaled in quiet relief, arms wrapping around her waist as he pulled her in again.

🪻🪻🪻

Later that night, the house had gone quiet. Oscar’s family had all turned in for the night, leaving only the soft hum of the city outside and the rustle of blankets as the two of them settled into bed.

Y/N was already curled under the duvet, still wearing his shirt, like it had always belonged to her. Oscar joined her a moment later, flicking off the bedside lamp, the room now lit only by the soft glow from the hallway.

He slipped under the covers, letting out a sigh as he stretched out beside her. After a moment, he shifted closer, tugging her into his chest with one arm thrown lazily around her waist.

She hummed, tucking her face into the curve of his neck. “You’re clingy tonight.”

“I’m traumatised,” he muttered, voice muffled in her hair.

She laughed quietly. “You’ll win in Shanghai, I promise.”

Oscar grinned against her. “I better, or I might get fired.”

A moment of comfortable silence passed. Then Oscar sat up slightly and peeled his shirt off with one smooth motion, tossing it off the side of the bed.

Y/N raised a brow in the dark, lips twitching.

“Oh? And what’s this about?” she asked, feigning innocence.

“It’s hot,” he said simply, lying back down and pulling her into him again. “And I sleep shirtless. You know that.”

“Convenient excuse,” she teased, fingers tracing lightly over his now bare chest. “What if I get hot too?”

Before she could reply, he was already sliding his hands up under the hem of the shirt she wore—his shirt—fingers warm and familiar. She let out a small gasp, half surprised and half amused, as he smoothly tugged it over her head and tossed it aside to join his on the floor.

Now she sat in just her bra, blinking at him in the low light. “Oscar!”

He was grinning shamelessly. “What? You said you might get hot.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“You said yes to marrying me, get used to it,” he reminded her smugly, leaning in to kiss her cheek.

“Regretting it already.”

“Liar.”

Y/N sighed dramatically, then nestled into his side, her bare shoulder against his warm skin.

He pressed a soft kiss to her temple, holding her close again. This time, no more teasing, just comfort. Just quiet. Just them.

Wrapped up in each other, skin warm under soft sheets, hearts still thudding from everything they'd said, and everything that was still to come.

And for the first time in days, Oscar slept like he hadn’t finished P9.

He slept like he’d already won.

No cheers, no champagne, no trophy this time; but for now, this was enough.

this was written while i was blasting my clairo playlist so please excuse the excessive yearning in this. also oscar piastri wdc 2025, spread the word. and as always you can request a prompt from my list if you liked this!

[leonsliga]

I thought that was an old pic of manu, his cheeks looks so rosy 🥰 sometimes I honestly can't believe we got him back. he's BACK!! with the shoulder thing and the knee and covid and then HE HAD CANCER but didn't take a day off and then he GOT HIS LEG SNAPPED ON A MOUNTAIN and I just can't believe he's still playing. Superhuman.

I swear, if anyone’s found the fountain of youth, it’s Manu. There’s been so many times where I’ll look at him and think he’s barely aged since 2014, especially when he’s smiling. Thomas was spot-on when he called Manu’s smile ‘boyish’; I can’t think of a better word to describe it, especially when his cheeks are all rosy and his eyes are all crinkly 🥰

We really are so lucky to have Manu back in our ranks, aren’t we? Between the shoulder injury, the knee injury, that covid spell, his skin cancer diagnosis, and the skiing incident that nearly ended his career not too long ago, the fact that he’s back and playing in the form he is is nothing short of a miracle. Even after all he went through, he never stopped fighting. Not once. We may never know how deeply any of those circumstances affected him, but the fact that he managed to shake off all the doubts and defy the odds (more than once at that!) is nothing short of extraordinary. It really just goes to show how far self-belief, willpower, and passion can take a person.

Throughout his career, Manu’s spoiled us with his with his unique brand of boldness—with his composure in the face of what many would surely consider insurmountable pressure. So maybe we shouldn’t be surprised that Manu has given us yet another miracle to remember him by. Still, it never ceases to amaze me. You put it so beautifully, anon; Manu and the resilience he’s shown us are simply superhuman ❤️

[xo2dee]

First of all I wanna say I fucking love your writing and your fics and everything it's amazing how did you get so good because lowkey a bitch be wanting some pointers 👀 second of all I have a request, a Dante request, I read the rules and I didn't see anything about this so correct me if I'm wrong but how about Dante with an insecure and plus size girly 🥺 it's kinda self indulgent ask but yeah anyways love your writing as always 😁❤

PAIRING: Dante x (Fem)Reader WARNINGS: Plus Sized Reader, Insecure Reader, slight body dysmorphia WORD COUNT: 1,243

A/N: thank you so much for the request! and this one actually lets me branch out a little bit and write a little bit differently so i hope you enjoy! 💞

DMC MASTERLIST

“I wish I could draw you.”

It was just six simple words spoken into the room that had you perking up in interest and confusion. Your eyes rolled around the expanse of the shop’s lobby before you landed on Dante, feeling your cheeks burn when you saw him mimicking a picture of you with his hands having one eye closed with a curl upwards on his lips. You were no stranger to Dante’s offhanded compliments to you throughout the day, one of his best features in a relationship with you being that never once forgot to tell how pretty he thought you were every single day – even if you’d just woken up with morning breath. However, as accepting of his compliments you were (whether it was brushing him off with a playful, “Shut up.”, or just shaking your head with an embarrassed laugh as your ears burned and your heart soared) there were times you couldn’t help but bite your words back and ask if he really meant it.

Beating the bush was never your forte, and it wasn’t a blind eye to say you weren’t on the bigger side compared to the women you’d see come in and out Devil May Cry. How many of them had their midriffs exposed, and how many of them you felt the slightest bit inferior to whenever that disturbing voice in the back of your mind started to compare yourself to them? Albeit, Dante never paid them a wandering eye, always curling himself around you at night and you being the one he kissed when he left for every job, but it was always something that haunted you in your subconscious late at night or when you started to spitefully compare yourself to other women.

And his simple little musing that night had you slightly spiraling into treacherous territories when you thought too long and hard about what’d you look like in a fully body painting.

You couldn’t help the grimace when you imagined the extra lines and shading…

Instead you only sighed, shooting him a critical eye before teasing him, “Can you even draw?”

Dante kept his hands positioned like that, still keeping you in the frame of his fingers as you laid on the couch sprawled out on your side, and you nearly rolled your eyes whenever he briefly opened his eye to wink at you before shutting it again, “Dunno, but for you I’d become the next John Singer Sargent.”

A laugh almost busted out of you at the comparison, wondering when Dante learned the names of famous artists when you weren’t around before you mouth abruptly clamped shut when you remembered what painting he was talking about. Portrait of Madame X, featuring a slender woman in a black dress on the canvas with her waist as accentuated and slimmed down as it could’ve gotten that immediately soured your mood when you taught about yourself in that position. It wasn’t Dante’s fault of course, nor was it really yours, it was just how society had hammered it into your head you’d look ‘better’ a specific way as opposed to being beautiful exactly the way you were and led you to darkening thoughts and an avoidance of mirrors.

Despite your clouding mind, you only gave another sigh and closed the magazine you’d been reading as you voice came out a little rougher than usual, “I don’t know about that.”

It didn’t take Dante two seconds to notice the somber bitterness within your tone, and you almost jumped when he appeared next to you on the couch within seconds. The good humor was gone, in its place a seriousness you’d only seen a handful of times as his eyes scanned you head to toe, “What’s bothering you?”

Leave it to Dante to notice the minute your mood completely fell and run to the rescue, but even as you knew he’d soothe you once you’d voiced your worries your tongue tied on itself and you had to actively fight to get your words out. Besides, there was really no use in hiding anything from Dante either, he’d just eventually sniff it out somehow. “I don’t… think I’d come out right on paper. Too many…” you paused and then gestured downwards at yourself with a shameful burn in your cheeks, watching his eyes follow the movement before he frowned. “I just don’t think it’d look good.”

It sounded even worse when you said it aloud, the disturbing bout of insecurity nearly making you want to curl in on yourself and hide away from Dante since he started gazing at you so openly. He wouldn’t allow it though, practically molding himself into your space as his fingers briefly caressed your cheek with a sigh, “Well, hate to tell you when you’re wrong, babe, but you’re wrong.”

Your eyebrow twitched at the words, yet you held back the backtalk in favor seeing what else Dante had to say since he held one finger up for you to give him a moment. It didn’t help the burn in your face either, eyeing him warily before he looked back at you with a particular glint in his eyes.

“To me…” he started after a moment one finger beginning to trace the exposed skin of your shoulder as the strap of your dress fell off, his touch as silky and tender as it could be with such hands used to only fighting wars. He trailed down with a hum, his palm joining in it slid down your arm to draw patterns into your palm before sliding back, “The finest piece of art can’t compare to how you look… Isn’t art subjective anyways?” Dante mused before his hand slid over the curve of your waist and then dipped down into the softness of your thighs with a fleeting softness, “Most paintings are made with love, and you are very loved on this canvas. The artist should be proud and dote you around as much as he can.”

The skips in your heart were loud enough for him to hear, validation in the form of Dante’s random poetry making butterflies flutter along the insides of your stomach. It was so odd to hear him speak like that, yet all the more believing because he never got too intensely serious enough and switched up his tone. Your eyelashes fluttered and lips parted as you struggled to find the words, settling on teasing him as your cheeks began to hurt from smiling, “Are you the artist?”

“Who else?” he stroked his chin with a smug expression, and you ran your foot up his leg before patting his thigh.

“Then why not dote me right now?”

His eyes narrowed in on your face and you only had half a second to move before he did. Dante lunged for you as you squealed, one arm curling around your bottom as he lifted you off the couch and held you to his side. He bounced you a little in his hold as his eyebrows wiggled suggestively, causing you to lightly smack his chest in rebuttal before snorting, “Okay, okay, I get it. Put me down.”

“Nah,” he grinned and turned around towards his desk where his jacket laid on the back of the chair, snatching it up before moving towards the doors while keeping you in his hold all the while, “We’re goin’ out, so I can show off my lady and what a piece of art she is.”

[jarofstyles]

Eeeeek there is something I love about the idea of getting a new body butter or lotion from lush without telling him and Harry being like “you’re so soft”😶🥰 and noticing how good you smell 😁

ME TOO (also accepting body care product recommendations)

Check out our Patreon!

—-

Y/N felt the hands on her hips as she placed the hanger on the rod, a little grin coming on her face as she was pulled backwards into his body. Coming home from a shopping spree had always given her a bit of an adrenaline rush, but hearing Harry’s car pull in the drive had always surpassed that.

“What’s this?” He asked softly, nosing at her neck. She’d already gotten undone from her day, taking a long shower and giving into all the self care when she had relaxed into one of his sweatshirts to put away her new purchases.

“What is what?” Y/N felt fingers slipping under the hem of the sweatshirt, his cool fingertips making her shiver while her belly warmed them. Of course she had a feeling what he was referring to, but she liked to be littered with compliments.

Luckily she didn’t need to wait long, stubble brushing her skin as he placed three kisses in a line down her neck before settling his nose where her throat and collarbones met. “What is that delicious new smell, hm? I don’t recall this one.” Harry had been a proud boyfriend to know most of her signature scents, adjusting each time she had pulled a new one, but the bottom notes always lingered on some sort of vanilla or musk. This one leaned more tropical.

She giggled as he inhaled deeply, making her squirm slightly as his thumbs rubbed against her hips while he nuzzled his face deeper into her skin dramatically. “Yep. S’a new one. Smells like we’re on holiday or something. I fuckin’ love it.” He mumbled against her skin. It had her shivering as his stubble scratched her up in the best way.

“It’s a new body butter thing. I got it today when I went shopping- which, thank you.” She preened. He’d left his credit card on the kitchen counter with a note telling her to ‘go crazy’.

“You’re so welcome, honey. It’s plenty worth it when I get to come home t’you smelling so delicious.” Harry’s greedy hands ran over her body, slipping further up his sweatshirt to find a lack of barrier over her breasts- which he happily cupped in his hands, a happy groan leaving his lips as he peppered more kisses up her throat to reach her jaw. “See? I knew you’d be so nice to me. Wearin’ my jumper, spending my money, smelling so good. S’exactly what I wanted in my life. You’re doin’ me a favor, really.”

“Oh, am I?” She laughed, feeling his thumb brush her nipples. The man was obsessed with her tits, and she couldn’t blame him. She really did have a nice set.

“Mhm. Absolutely. Was hoping to come home to a nice little fashion show, but seeing you in my clothes is infinitely better. Want that smell all over it.”

[winterrrnight]

mystery of love

PAIRING: husband!soft!rafe cameron x wife!fem!reader

SUMMARY: rafe started to get more busy with his business, and you couldn’t help but start to feel neglected by him.

WARNINGS: soft soft SOFT rafe, he's so lovesick for his wife it is crazy (no it isn’t that’s practically canon), slightly suggestive content but it’s written with a fluffy intent, usage of nicknames like goddess & baby, and just loads of sweetness over all, very very slight angst (?) and intentional use of lower case

EDITH SPEAKS: this fic is more on this, you can’t look at that picture and not think that’s rafe, cause it is! thank you so so much to @glimodejun who commented their idea which prompted me to write this 🫶🏼 i was supposed to write a blurb but I got carried away, clearly, and this is pushing 2k words 😁

anyways, please please reblog if you liked this and feedback is always appreciated! thank you so much for reading 🫧

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oh will wonders ever cease? blessed be the mystery of love

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

it was starting to get a little out of hand.

you always knew how important rafe’s business was to him, especially after he inherited it all from his father. the burgeoning fire in him to make the business bigger and better than it had ever been and be so much more powerful than his father, who couldn’t give him an ounce of attention or praise his entire childhood was one of the biggest things fueling his motivation.

that, and wanting to give you everything you could possibly need in great abundance so that you never felt you were at a loss of anything under his roof.

so you knew he tended to sometimes spend longer hours at the office, to get everything done, to not let a single mistake fall into place in front of his eyes, everything perfectly coordinated and right up to his standards.

he always made sure to call you or send you a text if he was going to be late, informing you why he was going to be late, the tentative time he should be back home, with a small ‘i love you’ and ‘i miss you’ accompanied with the occasional red heart he only ever used for you.

since the past few days, unfortunately you hadn’t been receiving the texts you always did. if you did, it was short, something along the lines of ‘i’ll be late’. but no explanation as to exactly what had been keeping him busy, and no words of endearment at all. he started coming home really late, most of the times when you had tried your best to stay up till he comes home, but the exhaustion would always defeat him in the race and you’d be out like a light.

and the next morning wasn’t close to being better than the night. if you were lucky, you would catch him getting ready for work, and you would always prompt him to stay for at least breakfast. but he would be in a hurry and shake his head no, saying something like ‘i have to leave, it’s important’ and leaving you with a chaste kiss to your lips.

whatever you’d ask, his answers to you would be short, concise and quick, and you felt as if you’re catching the subtle drift of vexation and annoyance in his tone. was it actually there or were you just imagining it? you didn’t know.

and if you weren’t lucky, you wouldn’t even get to see him leave. by the time you would be up, you would only feel the cold wrinkled sheets next to you, the faint scent of him lingering in the air as a burning memory of the love of your life.

this specific night, exactly one week after since the first day this peculiar behavior of his started, you were seated on the edge of the bed after a shower, applying your lotion on your arms as you prepared yourself for another night of waiting for rafe, falling asleep in the process, and letting it be a mystery solved only by some higher power if you would see him in the morning or not.

as you were rubbing the lotion into your skin, you couldn’t help your wandering mind. how were you supposed to deal with this situation? were you supposed to confront him and demand answers? or were you supposed to tread slowly? you knew you were nearing the end of the american fiscal year; 30th of september being right around the corner. it involved loads of financial and accounting work, preparing end-of-year accounts and statements, and what not. so him being busy felt justified. but he should be able to spare a moment to at least send you a proper text, shouldn’t he?

no, you shake your head. you’re his wife, for god’s sake. you shouldn’t be reducing your worth down to some text. heck, you should be getting proper calls from him. you’ve been so wonderfully patient, not complaining for a second for the past week. the least you can get is a proper conversation with him.

as you made up your mind firmly, your thoughts were cut through firmly when the door to your bedroom opened. you looked up to see rafe entering inside the room, his blazer off and resting on his shoulder, and his sleeves messily rolled up to his elbows.

“hey,” he muttered as he closed the door behind him, keeping his bag on the side and disappearing behind the washroom door.

“hey,” you said quietly, your gaze fixed on the floor as you heard the washroom door close. you remained seated on the edge of the bed, clad in a satin black robe which he swore made you look even more of a goddess than you already did as you waited for him to come out.

you heard the shower run inside for some time, after which the door opened and you were greeted with rafe sporting a pair of grey sweatpants, his upper body bare with some water droplets still trickling down his skin.

as he came out, he saw you in the same position at the edge of the bed as before. “hey why aren’t you going to sleep hm?” he asked as he busied himself with applying his moisturizer to his face.

“no reason,” you muttered, your back to him as you kept your gaze down at your feet.

rafe was very quick to catch the dejection in your voice, and before you knew it, he was making his way around the bed to you, standing right in front of you as he looked down at you.

“baby, look up please,” he murmured softly, one of his hand coming to rest on your cheek.

you lifted your head up to meet his gaze, your eyelids heavy as you look up at him through your lashes. “yeah?” you mumbled.

rafe exhaled softly at your bleak tone. he sank down on his knees in front of you, his gaze coming to your level.

“listen baby,” he sighed softly, placing both his hands on your thighs right below the hem of the robe. “I… I haven’t been the best husband the past week and I’m… so so sorry about that,”

his heartfelt words reached your ears and caused your eyes to widen, your mind started to work away the gears to process his words.

“I haven’t been giving you the attention and love I vowed to give you on day one,” he whispered looking deep in your eyes, his own eyes softened to such an extent it had you melting completely. “I haven’t been communicating well with you I…” he muttered, running one hand over his prickly buzzed hair, “I didn’t mean to do that baby I’m so sorry…”

you wanted to say something, anything, for that matter, but you were rendered completely speechless when you started feeling him press kisses over your thighs.

“I hope you can forgive me,” he whispered into your skin, “I hope you can forgive me for everything I did… I’ll make it up to you I promise…”

your lips parted to let out shuddering gasps as you felt him slowly move the satin of your robe up to reveal more of your thighs, his lips pressing kisses against your inner thighs and trailing over your outer thighs.

“I’m so sorry… so sorry, my goddess…” he whispered. “i won’t ever do this again… you’re my top priority, always, and there will never be a second where you don’t feel that way…”

his words left a searing mark on your skin, his lips trailing up to your left hip bone. one of his hands came to rest on your right hip, rubbing gentle circles onto your hip bone through the satin of your robe, and his other hand shifted your robe even higher to grant him more access to your skin. his lips landed on your hip bone and he pressed the most tender kisses along the bone, a soft gasp escaping your lips at his actions. your hand came to rest on the side of his face, your head leaning back as you felt the sensations of his lips on your sensitive hip bone thrum all throughout your body, lighting up each and every nerve that constituted you.

“I love you so much…” he whispered against your skin, starting to gently suck on your skin, his eyes fluttering shut. a hum of pleasure tumbled past your lips, your own eyelids getting heavier. “I love you so so much darling and I’m…” his lips started to trail over your lower abdomen, pressing kisses through the soft satin of your robe that still covered your upper half, “I’m never making this mistake ever again I promise... please forgive me…” he pleaded, his lips making over to your other hip bone and kissing on it, before gently sucking on it the same way he did earlier.

“you only deserve the best…” he murmured, lips trailing a path down to your inner thigh again. “just the best… cause you are so amazing…” he whispered, nipping on the soft skin of your inner thigh. your fingers curled over the nape of his neck to give you some leverage, soft gasps leaving your lips, your eyelashes fluttering, and your chest starting to heave from every kiss and nip of his lips and teeth.

his both hands now rested on the sides of your thighs as they gently kneaded into the flesh and his lips peppered insistent kisses all over your inner thighs. he looked up from your thighs up to you, a pleading expression in his eyes, his lips slightly parted as breaths escaped them.

“please forgive me, my beautiful goddess…” he implored, his voice a mere whisper. “please please forgive me, I’ll never do the same I promise…”

you looked down at him, your fingers trailing to the side of his face to gently cup his cheek. he snuggled into the warmth of your hand almost immediately, his eyes closing for a moment as he let out a soft sigh, letting his lips press a chaste kiss to your palm.

“I forgive you, rafe…” you whispered.

that made him look up at you, his eyes widened and the pleading expression draining out to be replaced with a hopeful one.

“yeah? you do?” he asked, squeezing your thighs in return.

“yeah,” you whispered back, giving him a small smile as you trailed your fingers to the side of his neck, gently scratching your nails against it. he let out a soft exhale at the sensation, letting his head drop to your thighs as your fingers made their way to the back of his neck, continuing the scratching motion. he almost purred in your lap at the feeling, nestling his face into your thighs.

“thank you…” he whispered against your skin. “I won’t disappoint you again, I promise,”

you let out a gentle sigh as you looked at his buried face in your thighs, your expression softening more.

“I know you won’t,” you mumbled, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his head.

that night, he held you in his arms and kept you pressed against him, his warmth lulling you in the most beautiful slumber you had experienced in that past week. he made sure you fell asleep comfortably, his lips always pressing random kisses to whatever part of your skin he could succumb to, whispered sweet nothings stumbling past his lips to your ears to alleviate you to great heights.

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

TAGLIST: @runningfrom2am @saccharinesammie @maybankslover @totalswag @madelynie @chenslucy @ietss @elle-mp3 @viawritesstuff @wallsdreams @mistress-amidala @sadfury @sage-burrow @jamesbuckybarneswify @xxxlaura @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @callsignwidow @starkowswife @drewstarkeyswifehoe @jjchaer @f4ll-for-you @wearemadeofstardust0 @drewsmusee @rafegirly @addriaenne @leighbronk @rafesdrew @bejeweledreverie @raf3sgff @aerangi @drewstarkey1bae @moneymaybank @spideysimpossiblegirl @noahkahansorangejuice @rafesgiirl @theoraekenslover @fals3-g0d @personalfavsthatarerandom @b1mb0slvt @babypoguelife @ilyrafe @ladyinbl00d @thisisntannie @zyafics

[saursoob]

OK HEAR ME OUT!! RIKI X READER WITH THIS PROMPT: "I know it was a dream, but I felt you here."

A/N: AAA THANK U FOR THE REQUEST SORRY FOR THE WAIT HERE IT IS!! (i made this before the fate tour ended so just imagine 😁)

synopsis warnings: niki is exhausted and misses you, crying, sobbing, sad, comfort, fluff

word count: 708

niki slowly awoke to see you only inches away from his face with a faint smile as you admired him, “good morning” you said as you kissed him on his forehead. he backed away quickly, his widened eyes in shock, “w-what are you doing here y/n?” you laugh at his question like it was a silly thing to ask. “niki what are you talking about?” his eyebrows tightened, “but y-you’re at home? you’re not here with me...” his eyes became watery as his confusion shifted into sadness. he was aware you weren’t actually with him. “i- i miss you so much y/n” he said as he pulled you into a hug, tightly wrapping his arms around you as he began to sob. “i want to go home but i cant. you’re home”

niki awoke in his hotel bed with dried tears in his eyes. that dream was too real, too cruel.

-

niki’s day went on and finally ended after another draining concert. exhausted, he sat on the hotel bed resting his head against the headboard, he sighs deeply as he restrained himself from crying. it was all crashing down, all the feelings he pushed aside towards the dream he had this morning all coming back to him.

unwillingly tears trickled down his face, he couldn’t handle it anymore. his heart ached, he was so physically and mentally exhausted and you. you weren’t here to make it better. he missed your touch, your kisses and cuddles.

he thinks that ultimately it could be worse. you do call and text after every concert but— its not the same.

shit. you always call after a concert.

his phone next to him lit up as the words on the screen illuminated “incoming facetime from y/n <3”

he quickly wiped his tears before answering and made sure his face wasn’t showing on screen to prevent you from seeing his puffy eyes.

he only showed the ceiling of the room as he picked up. “h-hey y/n.” he stuttered and his voice came out shaky. you look at your screen took aback, it was obvious something was wrong. you softly asked, “niki, is something wrong?” you could hear faint sniffing coming through your end of the phone as he responded, “no nothing.. i just— really miss you y/n” his voice sounded dejected, it broke your heart to hear. “me too.. i miss you too niki” he slowly showed his face to the camera, the room was darkly lit with only the lamp on, his cheeks a pink hue and had tears streaming down his face. “but- it’s different, i- i cant do this without you.”

you sighed as you quickly adapted to the situation you have to be strong for him and for you, but being honest seeing your boyfriend in this state made you want to cry as well. be strong. you have to find out what happened for his emotions change so significantly in only a days time. “‘ki- what caused this, i swear you you fine yesterday? did something bad happen?” he shook his head, “no, nothing bad happened..” “is that really true niki.” his lips turned into a slight pout, “its just i ..i had a dream last night that you were here. it felt so real and i knew it was fake. i knew it was a dream but i felt you here. it was such a cruel dream.”

trying your best to shift his mood you put on a smile, “i know its been hard for us but we can push though it, we have before yeah?” he nods his head to that, “yeah we did.” you giggle, “and we will again.” he wipes his tears, sighing dramatically as he rolls his eyes, “i do miss your kisses though” you laugh, “ill make sure to give you tons of kisses when you get home” he moves the phone extremely close to his face, “you better, i’ve been deprived enough” you suddenly come up with an idea, “niki get closer to the camera” he lowly chuckles, “uhh okay” as he approaches to get closer you rush to quickly kiss the camera “there a kiss” he lets out a surprised laugh before saying, “wait i didn’t get to kiss you back”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All In 8

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: Hellllllooooo 😁

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The next morning comes too soon and with too little sleep. Despite your efforts, you couldn’t lay still long enough to get much rest. Every time you sunk into the shallows of sleep, you were just as quickly awoken by visions of the unknown. You don’t know anything beyond the time at which you’ll set off to your fate; nine o’clock. 

You don’t need an alarm. You're already awake and alert. You sit up and rub your temples until the thumping dulls. You can’t entirely shake the pulsing thrum.  

You drag yourself to your feet and cross to your dresser. You open each drawer, sifting through the contents with disappointment. You don’t have anything that nice. You pick out your nicest jeans and a halter top Roxie gave you. You’ll be sweating your bum off in the denim but you don’t have many skirts or even shorts. 

You can hear your mother getting ready for her own day of work. Of actual work. You wait until she’s done to claim the bathroom. She’s off only a couple minutes after, calling out a goodbye and I love you that you return in a higher pitch than you mean to. 

You dress and tidy yourself up as best you can. Your bedtime shower did little to help you sleep but at least it saves you a step. You spritz yourself with strawberry body spray and try to smile at your reflection as you put your toothbrush back.

Sigh. Did Bucky really call you sexy? 

It’s not even eight. Lots of time to wallow in anxiety and self-doubt. You pace around the front room, ready to go, but not really. You have your purse with the fringe and your least-worn flats. They pinch around your toes but they’re cute; pink loafers with a little leather rose on each. 

You cradle your phone then squeeze it hard enough to make it light up. Only a few minutes. Or not. You hear a car outside and peer through the curtain. You recognise the vehicle. Shoot, time to go. Oh, god, what are you doing? 

You lock the door behind you and turn to face the gallows. Each step is filled with sand, your legs are heavy and your feet clunky. As you near, Merv appears to open the door for you. You’re surprised but not to find Bucky waiting within. 

As you slide onto the seat, he watches you and rumbles out a silty, ‘morning, doll.’ You aren’t ready. You don’t know why but you thought the drive would give you time to toss away the last of your caution but you’re clinging to it like a raft. You feel entirely powerless. More than you ever have. 

What he promises, money; you always assumed it would give you more control, that it would solve all your problems, but it’s really just a new set of problems. You settle onto the seat as the door closes and buckle your seat belt, focusing on the simple task. He stretches his arm over the back of the seat as you lean against it and his heat seethes into you. 

“Good morning,” you force out at last. 

“That’s a cute shirt,” he purrs as his hand wanders down to tickle your bare shoulder, your nude bra strap showing garishly. “Would look better without this.” He touches the strap and you make a noise. “But I can wait for that, doll.” 

You stare forward. The divider between you and the front seat is up. You are completely alone. You feel your heart about to swell and split. 

“I’ll admit, I was up late last night,” his arms shifts slightly as he leans forward. You only notice then the scent of coffee and two cups in the holders behind the console. “Got a pick-me-up to start the day. Gotta be awake for you, doll.” 

He takes one of the cups and you realise, he means to offer it to you. You feel too bad to tell him you’re not much for coffee. “It’s called a blue dream tea latte? I think it’s blueberry or something. I saw it in some ad online. Sounded like something you’d like.” 

“Oh, thanks, er, it does?” You murmur. You’d seen the same promotion on Pinterest. It’s a rather strange coincidence that he’d think of you. “I... I’ve never tried a tea latte.” 

“Doll, I’m gonna give you lots of things you never had, take you places you never been,” he flutters his fingers across your neck as he retracts his arm. He grabs the other cup and groans as he sits back, blowing over the plastic lid. “So tell me,” his arms presses against yours. He seems so big sitting so close, “where’ somewhere you always wanted to go?” 

“Er, I don’t...” your eyes drift over as Merv drives lazily through your neighbourhood, “know. I never... thought about it.” 

“Anything you always wanted to do? Skydiving? Wait, yeah, you don’t like being high up. Makes sense, being so close to the ground, huh?” He chuckles and leans into you playfully, “you an outdoorsy type? You like hiking?” 

“Um, I don’t know, I think... I like walking in the park sometimes,” you hold the cup with both hands, letting the warmth flow into your cold veins. You can smell the blueberry and you instinctively take wife through the slot of the lid. 

“Mm, don’t worry, we’ll figure it out, doll,” he assures you and sips again, swallowing thickly before he lets out a thigh. “I think you’ll like what I got planned, even if you don’t know what you want. I’ve always been good at figuring that out, you know?” 

“Oh?” 

He laughs again, “you’re so cute, doll.” He looks over at you, “how’s the latte? Did I do good?” 

Your eyes nearly cross as you stare at the cup. You bring it up carefully and take a dainty sip. You almost moan at the creamy but sweet taste. You pull the lid away and dab your lips with the back of your hand, turning to give him a wide-eyed look. 

“It’s delicious,” you smile. 

He grins and tilts his head, “see, doll, you don’t even gotta say it. I know exactly what you need.” 

You’re breathless. Something about his tone, his words, mingles and coils around your throat. It’s like one of those old Wattpad fantasies you devoured in your teen years, those escapist dreams of having everything taken care of and not having to think, and yet, it’s too real. You take another drink to keep busy. 

“After our first stop, we’ll eat,” he says, “that okay? You’re not ravenous?” 

His words make you flinch. You blink and shake your head, “I’m okay.” 

“Sounds good, doll,” he relaxes and once more extends his arms over your shoulders, this time hugging you closer.  

He turns his head and nuzzles you, making you squirm. You’re rigid, paralysed by the proximity. You’ve never been this close with anyone. He still feels like a stranger. 

“Mmm, strawberries,” he growls, “I like that.” 

You giggle and barely keep a hold of your cup. You really can’t understand it. You never had interest from anyone. You didn’t even really have friends in school. Sometimes, you even think Roxie hates you, and your mom, well, she loves you because you have to. You just can’t comprehend what he sees. 

“Thanks...” you wisp. 

“No, thank you, doll,” he drawls, “for making my morning brighter.” 

🃏

You doubt Bucky does anything in half-measures. Merv pulls up to another upscale building and you can’t help but gape out at the white brick facade. Everything is so big and fancy and better than you. You’re so out of place in his world that you can’t but wait for the moment he decides to kick you out of it. 

The white-haired driver gets out to open the door. As you step out, your loafer slips off your heel and your foot slides down the curb. You trip outward, bracing yourself for impact, but don’t hit the ground. A hand wraps around your arm and pulls you back onto the seat. You cringe, happy at least that Bucky can’t see your face as he clings to you. 

“You okay, doll?” He asks, “you hurt yourself?” 

“No, no,” you wriggle in his grasp, “I’m fine. It was just... stupid.” 

“Not stupid, good thing I was here to catch you, huh?” He reluctantly releases you, a caress along the back of your arm, “now you be careful. You need me to get out and carry you--” 

“No, no!” You grab the car and push yourself out, fixing your shoe as you get your bearings. “Really, I’m okay.” 

He chuckles and follows. It he laughing at you? You turn to face him as he steps up on the curb. It’s easy when he’s sitting to forget how small you really are. 

“All good, doll, I just can’t have you getting banged up,” he says as he gestures you across the wide sidewalk. 

You peer back as Merv shuts the door and Bucky brings his hand to your lower back, just like that woman at the casino. His gentle touch sends a chill up your back despite the beaming heat from above. 

“Promise, you’re gonna love this.”  

He urges you on to the front doors. They are made of iron, twisted in the middle, and two long handles curlicue in the middle. He stops and presses the little silver button along the side, a buzz muffled within. You wait, fidgeting, and presses his palm firmly to your back. You still yourself and clutch your bag tighter. 

The interior doors, dark walnut, open inward and a woman appears within with a particularly snobbish look. She’s tall with straight shoulders and a Chanel style suit. She unlocks the iron doors and opens the right one. She eyes Bucky past her hooked nose as she lifts it higher. 

“Mr. Barnes,” she greets. 

“Meredith,” he returns, “thanks for having me.” 

“Only for you,” she assures as her eyes fall upon you, “you’ve brought...” 

“Someone very special. A connoisseur like yourself,” he insists, curtailing whatever she thought to remark. 

“Yes, certainly she would be,” the woman accepts with a sniff and steps back, “please, come in. Should I have Charlene make tea?” 

“I don’t think we will require it. Doll?” He pauses as he confirms with you. 

You shake your head, “no thank you.” 

“Very well, follow me, then,” she spins and struts away.  

Bucky nudges you inside first, following through the narrow door. As he comes up parallel to you, a shadow appears to close the doors behind him. The whole experience is eerie. What is going on? 

You follow the woman, Meredith, up the wooden stairs with a rose-printed runner along the center of the steps. At the top, you smell the definitive scent of books. She directs you into a room, opening the door but standing back to let you through. Bucky nods and thanks her one last time. 

“You know the rules, Barnes,” she warns. 

“Been a while...” he mutters. 

“You remember,” she rebukes. 

He laughs and pulls the door shut as she retreats, her heels clicking through the wall until they taper off to nothing. A record player drones from the corner and the window lets in the yellow sunshine, adding to the illumination of glass-shaded lamps. You peer around, as curious as you are confused. 

Bucky brushes by you, knuckles rubbing against your waist, and he approaches the antique table at the center. Several stacks of books sit neatly piled atop it. You approach sheepishly and read the spines. You recognise the titles though you’ve never read any of them. As you think, you realise that these are the same books you have on your reading app. How could he know? 

Your mouth falls open as you keep your hands folded together. You don’t dare to touch anything. It all seems so nice and likely expensive. And with how Meredith spoke, you’re certain she wouldn’t appreciate you putting anything out of place. 

“She’s a book collector. I came here a few years back to buy some first editions for my sister,” he picks up a book. 

“How...” you bend to read further down a stack. 

“A lot you can learn about a person online,” he flutters through the pages, “isn’t there?” 

You look at him and blanch. 

“I know you Googled me. Everyone does,” he snickers, “it’s fine. Comes with the territory. But you...” he snaps the book shut and comes around the table, holding it out to you, “all I found were some books and a few pictures of a cat.” 

You take the book and stare at the cover. Those pictures were old. Kai died at the end of high school. You run your hand over the embossed title; Middlemarch. You remember adding it after binging and old British series. 

“My cat. She’s gone now,” you shrug. 

“Sorry to hear that, doll,” he says. “I might know someone who can cheer you up, though.” 

“It’s... fine. She was a good cat,” you shrug. 

“Hm, yeah, but a friend, all the same,” he says, “so, you want it?” 

“What?” You peek at the book again. 

“All of them? I can have them packed and sent to your house.” 

“Huh?” Your eyes nearly bulge out of your skull, “my mom...” 

“Ah, it’s fine, we can sneak em in,” he assures. 

“No, no, I couldn’t... it’s too much. Very nice but... must be... a lot.” 

“It is, doll. Meredith gave me a damn headache tryna get in here on short notice but I did it,” he leans a hand on the table and hooks one foot over the other. “You gotta at least pick one thing to walk out of here with.” 

“Oh, I... I wasn’t meaning... I didn’t mean to be ungrateful,” you rub your thumbs along the edges of the book, “sorry.” 

“It’s fine. I know you’re not, doll. You’re... adjusting. I’m doing my best not to scare ya away but you gotta bite the carrot a little here,” he says, “so grab a few and we’ll go have some breakfast.” 

“I...” you look between him and the table. You have no doubt that he went to a lot of effort for this. For you. You can’t just throw it back in his face. “Thank you, it’s...” you turn to face the table and lean in to see more of the books. You let yourself smile, “it’s wonderful. No one’s ever... except mom...” 

“Get used to it, doll,” he steps closer, his hand once more on your back, “with a smile like that, I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of seeing it.” 

[marymary-diva17]

Tonowari x Fem Reader x Ronal (poly mates)/ Aonung x Tsireya x Rotxo x Fem Reader (platonic/parental relationship) / Kiri x Fem Reader (platonic/parental relationship):

The Reader is mated to Tonowari and Ronal. She is a well respected warrior and is seen as being scary (even by her mates and kids) but in reality is a big softy. Anyways this will be after the Sully’s get there around the time when Aonung and his friends bully Kiri. So the Sully’s have heard about the Reader and the things going around about her (rumors or ideas that people have about her) and after the whole bulling situation Kiri decides to spent some time by herself and happens to run into the Reader. At first she is and apprehensive of the Reader but the Teader invites her over and they stay to talk and get along. Over the course of a few weeks Kiri has been basically sneaking off or leaving by herself to spend time with the Reader (everybody is confused on where Kiri is going). When both families (Kiri’s and the Readers)find out they tell her to stop swing the Reader for her safety but she defends the Reader and things blow up and Kiri runs away. Later that night the clan is looking for Kiri but can’t find her so they ask the only person who might know (Reader) and when they find the Reader they see Kiri with her and witness the Reader being the opposite of what they thought(being really sweet and comforting to Kiri). And in the end the clan accepts Reader. (Sorry that Kiri is so out of character and it’s really long) 😁😁

There was a human saying don’t judge a book by it cover, and if you are going to judge couldn’t someone before you see them for themselves. Those sayings seems to be forgotten when it came to a very specific Navi female, who was seen as something else by her own family and family. It seems like someone had decided to give her a chance, another Navi who was judge as well.

Y/n “ it a very warm day” it a very good day in the village along with it being some days, since the sully family and company had arrived seeking refuge. They had been given refuge by your mates who approved of them staying her and learning the ways.

y/n " good morning" you had sene some hunter gather by the water and wave over to them, they had looked up to see you. It seems like they had soon left the area or didn't do that much. It was something you had become use to while growing up, as you had been seen as different by everyone else. Most of the clan and other had seen you as freak, and had questioned tonowari and ronal why they become your mates. It seems like your were labeled as someone to keep away from, along with being bad example as well. It had broken your heart and spirt that everyone saw you as embarrassment or not navi like everyone else, it the most when it came from your own family as well.

y/n " ........" you soon sighed as you had gone on with the rest of your day, hoping nothing else will happen. It was until the afternoon when are walking around the shore, when sound of voice had gained your attention.

???? " are you some type of freak"

???? " did you hear what he said he called you a freak"

????? " your whole family is full of freaks"

y/n " hey what going on over here" you had seen your son along with some other teens, bothering the sully family daughter kiri.

Y/n " I said what going on here so someone should be speaking, up right now"

aonung " we were just talking that all nothing to bad"

y/n " it seems more then talking aonung I thought you knew better then to bully someone, same goes for all you boys as well we should be working together not against each other"

teen boy " sorry we didn't mean it"

y/n " well it did seems like that to my view point, and the same could be said from kiri parents ... dearie are you okay"

kiri " I'm now"

y/n " good now you boys run along I might be having some words, with all your parents later on"

teen boy 2 " yes y/n"

y/n " aonung I will be having some words with you my son"

aonung " yes mom come on guys" aonung and his friends soon leave, as you soon walked closer to the teenage girl. Kiri seems like she was close to tears and very upset about the whole situation.

y/n " are you sure everything is fine"

kiri " I don't know I was just minding my business and see the beauty of the water, then aonung and his friends had come over to bothering me .... calling my names and my family as well"

y/n " I'm sorry for my son and his friends behavior I thought I raised him to be good"

kiri " wait are you the other mate of ronal and tonowari, the one we had been told about"

y/n " yes it seems like the words about me have been told to your family already"

kiri " yes it seems like that not many people had spoken well about you, saying you are someone I and my siblings should stay away from if alone .... as you were descried to be odd and not full navi"

y/n " yes just like you and your family I'm different and that has effected my image to everyone even my family"

kiri " that is very sad and no one should be treated that way"

y/n " you are right if you are fine with it will like to join me for some lessons, to help you understand more of what the great mother has to offer us"

kiri " sure I will love that but I hope I will not be a bother"

y/n " you will not young lady now come there are some things, I will love to show you"

Weeks later

y/n " you are getting better kiri it seems like the ocean has welcome you"

kiri " thank you y/n since you have been helping me I have been, feeling better with my new surroundings and it good to have someone else to speak with outside my family"

y/n " well I'm happy to hear I have been able to help you"

kiri " everyone is wrong about you and your children are foolish to, not see a wonderful mother you are ... I'm sorry for my tone and words"

y/n " it okay kiri I do wish everyone saw me in a positive light like you"

????? " kiri" you and kiri soon heard someone yelling kiri name, the both soon looked up to see neytiri making her way towards them. She was not very happy at the moment as she was soon followed by Jake.

neytiri " kiri where have you been"

kiri " I was off with y/n mom she been helping me and giving me advice as well, she is very nice"

y/n " hello neytiri and Jake it good to see you both this wonderful day"

neytiri " we have told you again and again to stay away from this women, she is bad news and has a awful reputation"

kiri " mom"

Jake " kiri we are doing what best for you"

????? " y/n" you soon looked to see your mates standing there along with the kids and sully kids.

tonowari " y/n why have you been teaching kiri verse tsireya teaching her"

y/n " I was just helping kiri that all she also has been attending tsireya lesson as well"

ronal " you have caused a issues for us all"

neytiri " I want you away from my daughter she has bright future, and I wish for her not to become like you a women who unloved by her own mates and children ... no worried you have never had a child with tonowari that will be sad"

kiri " mom she a mother to aonung, rotxo, and tsireya"

neytiri " they don't see her like that we all that and she lives on her own, she just like spider someone who ever take pity on but really wants away"

y/n " neytiri I'm just being a mentor to your daughter that all she was having a hard time, I was just being a teacher that all ... if you listen to your daughter you will understand we are both mother we both care of our kids

neytiri " you are no mother and I hope you never become one, everyone thinks poorly of you and that will pass down to your kids ... ask tonowari why he avoids having a kid with you"

y/n "tonowari"

tonowari " i and ronal think it best if we have the kids at the moment, it for the benefit for the clan and family"

y/n " I undestand"

Neytiri " if you understand leave my daughter alone leave my kids alone, as well don't ever come near my family again or any other youth"

y/n " then if you wish it I will make sure that happens I will stay away from your family, for safety and your family reputation I will stay away from everyone ... if need I will leave"

kiri " no y/n this is your home and your clan"

y/n " it okay kiri maybe the great mother has plans for me outside of here .. I will be okay I will always be okay" you soon bid goodbye saying nothing else as you left. As you are walking away you felt so much pain in your heart and soul.

Later that night

y/n " ........" you are in your home alone as dinner was cooking over the fire.

????? " hello" you soon looked at the entrance to see kiri standing there, you soon gave her a soft smile.

y/n " come inside kiri"

kiri " I'm sorry for what my mother had said it was uncalled for and, very rude towards you"

y/n " it okay my dear I have become use to behaviors like that"

kiri " you are a mother no matter what neytiri has said"

y/n " I always felt like and mother and I wil always be a mother, even if my kids didn't accept me as a mother I will be there for them my home will always be open to them"

kiri " how do you deal with all of it on daily basis y/n even as an adult"

y/n " I just let them say what they want to say and go on with my life, and can't lets always allow their words and actions ruin my life ... anymore life is beautiful and I'm going to live the life I want ... you should live the life you want kiri"

kiri " thank you"

y/n " I know spider will be back with you and if he needs somewhere to stay, he can stay here I will never lets a child be alone in this world"

kiri " thank you" you had smiled towards kiri she had stayed the night feeling not like going home, after she said she got in fight with her family. She laid on tsreyia mat fast asleep you had cleaned everything up, thinking about how you wanted to live your life after today.

[caramel1mochi]

cOULD yOu write a fic where fem reader and (some agent) stay at valorant hq while others are at the mission and its summer, super hot outside, and when they come back they see reader and (agent) at the pool playing loud music and having fun, and gekko gets jealous of agent😁😁😁😁😁

Heya, thanks for the request! I wasn’t sure how to wrap it up and I felt bad letting him stay jealous so I added a little extra at the end hahaㅤ

ㅤ

On the Poolside! [ Gekko x Reader ]

Words: 900+

Please don't copy or steal my work and pass it off as your own! If you'd like to use one of my headcanons or something, I'd love it if you tagged or asked.‎ ‎‎ ‎  

ㅤ

。+❤ฺ·。❤ฺ·。+❤ฺ· +❤·。❤ฺ·。+❤ฺ·

ㅤ

It was two in the afternoon. The perfect time for a team of agents to return from a mission a few minutes ago.

The sun shined brilliantly amidst the bright blue sky, and there was naught of a cloud that dared stand in its way. Unfortunately, this meant that the rays that engulfed the protocol, Gekko and Neon were uncontested, heating them up like they were pastries in an oven. And to those unfortunate enough to go on a mission during all of this, they suffered the most out of all of them. Which was also Gekko and Neon.

Despite having opted to go to the swimming pool a while ago, swimsuits didn’t really cool them as they marched down the hallway. Thrash in hand, each step heavier than the sound of a jackhammer, the two were ready to flop into the pool like pancakes.

ㅤㅤ

“It should be a crime to send people out to war in the middle of summer, man.”

ㅤㅤ

Gekko complained, promptly earning a nod from Neon.

ㅤㅤ

“Exactly. And to Bind, too? What was Brim thinking?” She huffed. “I just hope the pool’s empty. If one person tries to talk to me on my way there, I swear I'll zap them with my suppressor off!”

ㅤㅤ

Though he aimed to respond to that with something witty, Gekko choked on his laughter once he heard the final sentence.

ㅤㅤ

“Chica, chill. Everyone else left after us; I’m positive it’s empty.”

ㅤㅤ

“Yeah, it better be!”

ㅤㅤ

The halls were quiet and empty of the chaos they’d naturally be riddled with. Mostly because the younglings were out and about, suffering just like the duo were about an hour ago. But this very silence was what made their ears perk up at an awry sound.

Despite the conversation serving as a good enough distraction from the heat, the closer they marched to the pool, the louder the music had gotten. And Gekko just couldn't help but notice it. Especially the genre.

ㅤㅤ

“Yo, do you hear that?”

ㅤㅤ

“Huh? Oh. Music." She sighed in disinterest. "Yeah, they're probably playing some stuff back there. Looks like we won’t be alone, huh?"

ㅤㅤ

“Guess not.”

ㅤㅤ

It was borderline impossible for Neon to sound any less irritated, but I digress.

However, Gekko couldn't stop himself from playing detective in his head in regards to the genre, aaannndd... They turned the corner and finally arrived at the pool, being blinded by the strong sunlight just as they stepped outside. But he was able to finally see who was in the pool when their vision cleared. Yeah, it was Iso who picked that song. Of course it bloody was, who else would pick underground rap? Gekko took a moment to observe Iso as he sat on the edge of the pool, laughing away at something neither of them could hear. Seeing him wear something that didn’t conceal his broad figure was very out of place. But his heart dropped once he saw who he was talking to.

It was you.

Despite being submerged in water, he saw you don some kind of colourful swimsuit with a peculiar design he just couldn’t observe. But something else was on his mind. Beyond how much those colours complemented you, of course. Why was Iso with you in the pool? Neither of you hung out much, if he recalled correctly, so... However, his heart dropped when he saw you suddenly grab Iso's wrist and gleefully pull him into the pool with all of your might. He swore that he saw his arms wrap around you for a second underwater, but he was quick to let go just as the two of you resurfaced.

Ugh…

ㅤㅤ

“Finally. Fresh air. Come on, let’s go.” ㅤㅤ

Gekko didn’t really catch what Neon said. He was too distracted by the sound of you calling Iso’s name in between laughter. He huffed and firmly clutched Thrash in his arms.

ㅤㅤ "You know what? Nevermind.” ㅤㅤ

Thrash immediately grumbled at this.

Neon's eyes widened in surprise once he turned on his heel. However, just as he was about to move back inside, she was quick to grab his shoulder to stop him.ㅤ

ㅤㅤ

"Woah, hey, what’s going on?”

ㅤㅤ

“Nothing.”

ㅤㅤ

Gekko shrugged her hand off, and Neon couldn’t help but tilt her head in confusion.

ㅤㅤ

“Nothing? Why’re you leaving, then?”

ㅤㅤ

“I’m… uh, I’m not in the mood.”

ㅤㅤ

“Okay, that’s clearly a lie.”

ㅤㅤ

“Look, I’m just not in the mood anymore, alright? It’s not that deep.”

ㅤㅤ

He unwittingly glanced at the two of you, getting further aggravated at the contagious joy that kept increasing between you two. Neon obviously followed his gaze, but she looked back at him in disbelief once she caught on.

ㅤㅤ

“Iso and A/N? Is that what this is about?” She crossed her arms. “Gekko, who cares? Just ignore them, or whatever.”

ㅤㅤ

“Are you for real? I’m not sitting here on the side lines just to watch A/N and Iso live it up.”

ㅤㅤ

“Hey, you promised Thrash we’d check out the pool when we get back. Are you seriously gonna go back on your word because of some guy who probably sucks at picking date locations compared to you?”

ㅤㅤ

Neon scolded him as she playfully poked at his chest. And with the encouraging grumble Thrash let out, it was very clear that the little radivore was very much agreeing with her words. She'd know that, wouldn't she?

So… Gekko rolled his eyes with a wide smile he just couldn’t control.

ㅤㅤ

“Okay, fine. I’m staying.”

ㅤㅤ

“About time! Now get a move on, I’m melting out here!”

ㅤㅤ

Neon grabbed Gekko’s wrist and pulled him towards the pool. Due to her strength however, it gave Thrash an escape from his previously firm hold. Thus, Thrash immediately jumped out of his arms and terrorised the pool… much to Gekko’s delight. Even though you were also both inconvenienced at this, not just Iso.

[lo1k-diamonds]

Unique 💜 Part 1

PAIRING: idol!Namjoon x OFC

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

WORD COUNT: 20.8k

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

RATING: R (explicit)

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

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

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

Masterlist | Masterpost | AO3 | Wattpad | Schedule and WIPs | Next Part >

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She can’t attend her wedding with dark circles and a hangover.” Yoongi scoffed at their silliness. “That’s a Hollywood invention.”

“But she could have waited for us.” Jungkook pouted.

“And deal with BTS at her party?” Hoseok shook his head with a smile.

“Yeah, this is way better, guys,” Namjoon finally intervened. Jimin rang the doorbell. “This way, we have a nice drink with her before the big party, and it will be just us remembering old times.”

“That’s right,” Hoseok agreed with a warm smile.

Jimin turned to them with a grin. “Maybe this is the time she’ll tell us all about the cream incident—”

“Uhhhh, won’t you look at the time—” Yoongi suddenly stammered, turning around with the intention to walk away.

Jungkook and Jin grabbed him, blocking him while everyone smirked. They teased him about it, but it was short-lived. The door opened, and they all turned to greet the woman they wanted to meet.

“There’s our bride!”

“Our Hyejin is glowing!”

“Wow, you look so beautiful!”

“So pure and fresh!”

She giggled with a wide grin, pulling her long dark hair behind her shoulders. “I spent the day at the spa,” she boasted, stepping away for them to come in.

They complimented her complexion and radiance for a long while before she shooed them over to the living room.

“Wait there, I’ll be with you in a second.”

Namjoon was the last one in, and he stood around while the guys sat on the sofa and chairs in the living room. Their chat was nice until they noticed Hyejin was taking way too long.

“I’ll go check on her,” Namjoon offered. He was already standing anyway.

“Bring alcohol,” Jimin asked playfully, making the others laugh.

Namjoon grinned and shook his head at their goofiness, but before he could enter the kitchen, he froze.

“We should finish our conversation,” a female voice said. What shocked him was not that he didn’t recognize it, but that it spoke in English.

“No, we should leave it for tomorrow. The friends I grew up with just arrived,” Hyejin’s tone was soft and hopeful. “I would like you to meet them.”

Whoever it was puffed. “I don’t speak Korean, you know that.”

“Angie—”

“Besides, don’t you think you should think about this before getting married?”

Hyejin released a deep impatient breath. “We shouldn’t speak of it right now—”

“It’s in English, they won’t understand anyway,” Angie dismissed dryly.

Hyejin was pressing her lips. “You’d be surprised. Actually—”

“Stop trying to dodge the issue.”

Namjoon took a deep quiet breath, he should probably announce himself before—

“I’m no one's reference in this, Hyejin.” Angie sighed. “But you should obviously find what works for you, not try to fit someone else’s ideal.”

“You say that, but you’re every guy’s ideal.” 

Namjoon’s eyebrows twitched; Hyejin sounded upset. He wondered what they were talking about.

Angie laughed bitterly. “That is so far from the truth!” Unbeknownst to Namjoon, she was shaking her head with a sour smile. “Sure, in theory, every guy wants a girlfriend that enjoys and wants to have sex, but none like it when she has a bigger libido than they do.”

Namjoon’s eyebrows skyrocketed.

“How big exactly are we talking?” Hyejin suddenly perked up. She was very persistent when she wanted to. “No, let’s put a number on it. How many times have you had sex in the last month?”

Angie snickered. “Exactly zero.” 

Hyejin was taken aback for a second, then she nodded. “Of course, you’re single.” 

Angie raised her eyebrows. “That’s not why, though…”

“Alright, then how many times did you masturbate in the last month?”

“Month??” Angie’s brown eyes were wide. “How am I supposed to count? Ahm, I guess…”

Namjoon blushed and rubbed his face to hide his embarrassment. He shouldn’t have been eavesdropping, but he wasn’t moving. 

“Forget it then. What about… in the last twenty-four hours?”

“Three.”

Namjoon raised his head; that was a fast answer.

“Three?!”

Angie rolled her eyes.

“Oh my god, just go and have sex,” Hyejin smirked. “Let’s go out, I'll be your wing woman.”

“It’s not about that,” Angie’s voice was strained. “What I truly crave is intimacy. That’s why once is not enough, the orgasms feel thin, as if something is missing. And to have sex, well… You know me, I need to trust the guy, to be able to have a conversation…”

“You’re too picky,” Hyejin had a playful tone.

“And here I was thinking I wanted the bare minimum…”

Hyejin laughed and suddenly gasped. She had crossed the kitchen’s archway to find Namjoon standing there, out of sight, with his back against the wall. His eyes widened at being caught, his cheeks red as tomatoes as he opened his mouth to surely stutter an apology.

“I’m going to bed,” the voice from the kitchen said, and Hyejin turned back to look at her best friend.

She glanced at Namjoon for a split second, then smiled. “You know I got your back, right?”

Angie smiled. “Of course, and I got yours. You’re right. Let’s talk better tomorrow. " She rubbed her face and pulled her sandy-colored hair back. “I’m too tired. What time is brunch tomorrow?”

“Eleven.” Hyejin smiled after giving Namjoon a stink eye so he would stay where he was.

He closed his eyes with his lips between his teeth, cursing his stupid curiosity. Hyejin was going to kill him.

“Perfect, I need to sleep my jetlag off. It’s my only hope to look like a human being tomorrow.”

Hyejin chuckled at Angie’s playfulness and waved her goodbye. Angie left through the opposite archway to reach the corridor that led to the bedrooms.

Then Hyejin turned to the red elephant in her dining room with a harsh look.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop—”

“I can trust that that conversation will—”

“I’ll take it with me to my grave.”

“And the other guys?”

“Won't ever know about it.”

Hyejin took a deep breath and then eyed Namjoon from head to toe. The instant she saw him, she cursed her luck that the only BTS member fluent in English was the one who happened to overhear their conversation. But now… maybe that was actually a blessing in disguise.

“Do you really regret it?” she asked with a cocked eyebrow.

“Yes, of course!” He sounded pleading. “I should have never—”

“Namjoon! Oh—” Jin stumbled on them and stopped in his tracks. “What is taking you so long?”

Namjoon opened his mouth, unsure what to say, but Hyejin answered first. “He’s helping me with drinks. Soju?”

“And beer!” Jungkook yelled from the living room.

Jin grinned at the maknae’s request, then turned back to the two of them. “I’ll help—”

“No, Jin oppa, it’s okay.” Hyejin smiled. “I was talking with Joonie…”

Jin’s eyebrows raised. “Well, and I can’t hear it?”

“It’s important,” her tone was sweet as she pouted, and Jin sighed.

“Fine, I’ll leave you two be.”

Jin shrugged and left them, telling the others they’d bring drinks soon. Namjoon and Hyejin were close, it wasn’t weird that she wanted to speak with him alone.

She turned to Namjoon. “Make it up to me. To us.”

He frowned slightly but then nodded. “Sure. What can I do?”

Hyejin licked her lips but then decided. “I would like it if you could be with Angie at the rehearsal tomorrow night and at the wedding.”

“Be with her?” he repeated, confused.

“Yes. Well, you speak English fluently, and I don’t want her to be left alone and uncomfortable.” Hyejin released a deep breath. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but I can’t think of anyone else. Truth is, I was going to ask you about it tonight anyway.”

“It’s not a lot to ask…” he answered, scratching his chin. “I’m more concerned about the tabloids.”

“It’s my wedding, Joon. No freaking tabloids or media,” her voice was harsh, and he immediately regretted mentioning it. He knew how sensitive she was on the subject. “Plus, you don’t have to be with her only, stay with the guys, too. Just don’t leave her alone.”

He nodded with a small smile. “I can do that, don’t worry.”

She smiled happily with one less worry. “Consider it your wedding gift,” she said playfully, waving for him to follow her into the kitchen. They did need to get drinks.

Namjoon laughed. “No way, we already arranged something else.” His cute dimples showed, and she felt reassured. “Just don’t stress about it.”

She started getting the bottles and cans out of the fridge and putting them on the counter when she suddenly remembered. “Also… I’ll just say it to be sure. Don’t leave her alone with my brother. He has always had a thing for her, and I’m afraid it could escalate.”

Namjoon’s eyebrows jumped up, and a couple of thoughts ran through his mind. A look at Hyejin told him she could read him like an open book, and before he could apologize, Hyejin smacked him.

“Just because she has a big libido, it does not mean she’ll sleep with anyone,” she pointed out with frustration. “My brother included. He’s just a playboy, and he’s married. Do not let him get near her, do you understand? He’ll harass her, and I don’t want fights at my wedding.”

Namjoon, feeling deeply regretful again for his callous thoughts, just nodded and promised to be good company for Angie over the weekend.

He just didn’t know how to do it. He had never met her, not even seen her. He hoped he would get a glimpse of her before leaving, but throughout the night, it was just Hyejin and them. 

He kept playing the words she said in his mind and wondered what kind of person she was. She was definitely the type to be good friends with Hyejin, otherwise, she wouldn't be staying at her house or have her request that favor of him. 

His mind was already contemplating how he should approach her: should he apologize, should he give her some advice, should he be her wingman, should he just play it cool? He kept wondering about all those things, and by the time he entered the rehearsal dining hall with the rest of BTS the next night, he hadn’t made up his mind.

Hyejin was at the entrance with her fiancé, who BTS knew well, so they greeted them well.

"So about that track—"

"No work talk at my party, please," Hyejin interrupted quickly, making her fiancé smirk and step back from Yoongi.

"Yes, dear."

Namjoon got close and hugged her. "You look so beautiful."

She hugged him back closely, and he knew she was nervous and overwhelmed.

"Will you do what I asked you to? " she asked, her smile hinting at anxiety.

"Of course," he assured her with warmth, rubbing her arms once soothingly.

She nodded. "Thank you. She'll be here soon. Just be yourself."

He chuckled and scratched his neck. "About that…"

But he didn't get the chance to ask. The arrival of more guests pushed them to get moving after a rushed photo with the bride and groom.

From then on, it was a mess for a while. Many people he knew approached him and the others for a chat, and he couldn’t say no. However, he wasn't there to talk about work or pamper them. It was a celebration, and he had made a promise. He couldn’t disappoint Hyejin and stress her even more.

The guys ended up splitting between the dancefloor, the bar, and their dining table. Namjoon grabbed his whiskey at the bar and got to his spot at the table by himself. He sat down and sighed; parties were not his thing, and he got tired quickly.

He placed his glass down and then noticed the names on the cards next to him: Jin on one side, Angie Wagner on the other. He blinked and leaned in closer to see. Would she sit next to him?

"So," a female voice he recognized sounded from behind him and made him turn. "On a scale of one to ten, how much did you understand the conversation last night?"

She pulled the chair to sit next to him, and he just stared. She was sitting in Angie’s spot, and he recognized her voice, so… Angie?

She was wearing a light lilac string dress that fell all the way to the floor. Her sandy blonde hair was braided in a hairdo, letting a few strands fall around her face and neck. Her eyes were brown and shiny. They looked incredibly astute, and he suddenly had the feeling he would not be able to hide anything from her.

She raised her thin eyebrows quizzically, and he stammered, “I— Well—” For a second, he considered pretending he had no idea what she was talking about, but then he gave up on it. “I believe most of it.”

She nodded. “Meaning all of it.”

He pressed his lips and looked down in clear regret. “How did you know?”

“Hyejin can’t lie to save her life. She was obviously looking at someone, despite her attempts to deny it.” Angie sighed, looking around at the card names on the table. “And I heard you speaking in English before.”

She waved back at the bar, and he nodded while pressing his lips in nervousness. He guessed she could connect the dots.

“So, are you thinking I’m just a promiscuous Western woman, or can I still save some face?”

His cheeks warmed, but he chuckled. “I don’t think being Western has anything to do with it. You’re just freer to talk about it in Western countries, which I find a healthy thing." He looked at her, who was just attentively listening to him. Hyejin told him to be himself so he'd risk it. It was only fair after having learned such intimate secrets. “You’d find equally promiscuous women here, they probably just hide it more.”

She pursed her lips, intrigued by his words, but they were interrupted by a waiter with champagne flutes. She took one with a small head bow.

“Besides, if I understood correctly, you’re not that promiscuous.” He pressed his lips. Was he really going to talk about this? “Something about having standards…”

She laughed, and his dimples appeared. He was flustered and hot, but speaking with someone so earnestly was pleasing.

“So you did understand everything!” She didn't look mad, she was grinning and sounded playful. “Can you tell that to Hyejin, though? I have a feeling she wants to ‘help me’ somehow when she doesn’t seem to understand the situation.”

His eyebrows puckered. “How does she plan on helping?”

“Something about a guy babysitting me tonight.” She shrugged. “I’m sure she means well, but it’s not how these things work. Although I must admit, I’d be bored out of my mind if you weren’t here.”

“How so?” He laughed to take away from his embarrassment, realizing immediately he was the 'babysitter'. He didn’t know how to feel about it.

“Well, I wanted to make sure you’d keep that conversation private, and now I’m pleasantly surprised that not only are you fluent in English, but you can actually have a conversation. I don’t see a way to be bored now.” He nodded with his warm cheeks marked by his dimples. “And with a bit of luck, I can escape the so-called babysitter. I'm not sure I trust Hyejin's taste in men to meet my standards.”

He tried laughing, but it came out dry. Did he understand it right? Hyejin had implied to Angie that they'd… and she didn't trust Hyejin to choose someone, but it was him so—

“Do you want some tiramisu?” she interrupted his thoughts after downing her champagne. He looked at her, confused, and she pointed at the walking dinner at the other end of the room. “I’m starving.”

He nodded and went with her, grabbing not only tiramisu but also other small bites. Then, he made a judgment call to keep his mouth shut about being the person Hyejin had chosen to 'babysit' her. That way, Angie wouldn't feel imposed on, and they could keep chatting amicably.

They went back to the table with their food and continued chatting. Some of the BTS members noticed this.

“Wow, Joon made a friend,” Taehyung pointed out from the dancefloor in surprise.

Jimin turned and gasped dramatically. “Really?! Let’s go meet her—”

Hoseok stopped them both by getting in their way. “Oh no, you don’t. Let him be.”

“But he made a friend! I want to know her too.” Taehyung pouted playfully.

“Guys, he’s talking to a girl,” Hoseok repeated, playing with his eyebrows.

“He talks with girls all the time,” Taehyung remarked, confused.

Jimin smirked with a nod at Hoseok. “Ohhhh, I see what you mean.”

“What?” Taehyung frowned.

“It’s a wedding weekend, people do crazy things.” Hoseok smiled intently at Taehyung.

“So? Are you implying that our Joonie will sleep with that girl?”

“Joonie will sleep with a girl?!” Jungkook’s shocked gasp came from behind Taehyung, and Jimin quickly hushed him.

“Shh, we don’t know that,” he said, leaving Jungkook truly puzzled. Why was Jimin shushing him? The music was so loud!

“But he’s so shy, there’s no way—”

“Let’s give him the opportunity,” Hoseok interrupted Taehyung.

“It won’t hurt,” Jimin pointed out.

Jungkook pouted his lips. “It will if she hurts him.”

The other three men shook their heads with a smile. “He’s old enough, let him decide that for himself,” Hoseok said, and the other three agreed.

Namjoon was intrigued to talk with Angie about women's emancipation and the feminine movement. He had sought to educate himself about this topic but rarely got to talk about it. He was interested in learning a woman's perspective, or should he say a Western woman?

“The thing is that it’s not because I believe in equality that I don’t like things like chivalry or an actual man,” she pointed out with a deep breath that contained her frustration. “In what dating is concerned, I would like a partner that doesn’t fall into extremes, and I feel that’s happening more and more.”

“What kind of extremes?”

“Like the woman is always right and can do no wrong, or women are bitches that don’t accept men for who they are. I’ve seen both, I hate both,” she stated cleanly, then shrugged. 

“That really happens?” he asked, surprised.

“Oh yeah.” She huffed, and his eyebrows jumped as he kept eating. “You try to date for a few months, and it just becomes insufferable.” She chuckled, but he could see there was an inch of bitterness. “I truly just want a partner, an equal partner. I believe this to be a good standard, but none of my friends understand why it’s so hard.”

He nodded; he sort of understood her. He didn’t hope to find someone who could stand by his side easily, and he wasn’t eager to put anyone through the hardships that came with his lifestyle. But if he could choose, he’d prefer someone by his side, not beneath or above.

“Like my friends say I expect too much, that I should just date a genius from work.” Her tone was despairing yet scornful. “And it’s precisely why I’ll never ever date any of them. I mean, I know I’m smarter than most, but I don’t want a genius by my side. I don't consider myself a genius, despite popular belief.”

He was looking at her with wide and intrigued eyes. He opened his mouth, then backtracked — there was so much information to unpack there he wasn’t sure about what to ask first.

“Look and behold, Mr. Namjoon.” She opened her arms with a cocky smile as if presenting herself. “You’re talking with the youngest professor of Quantum Physics at MIT.”

His jaw dropped, and his eyes widened even more. “Really? Wow!”

She chuckled, closing her arms again and finally reaching for the tiramisu. “I know, I get that a lot. I'm surrounded by people who are pure geniuses in every sense of the word but lack everything else required for socialization. And me being a woman in the middle of men should sound fun, but it really isn’t.” She sighed, with a spoon of dessert in her mouth. She didn’t look very happy. “Everyone thinks I'm at a buffet when in reality, I wish I could go to a Michelin-star restaurant and have that one gourmet meal.”

She expected him to laugh at her analogy, but he nodded with a small smile overflowing with sympathy.

“I get you… I sometimes feel like the Michelin-star meal, but I’m behind a glass case and can’t interact with anyone.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You consider yourself a Michelin-star meal?”

Her tone was playful, but he choked on his spit, blushing an intense shade of red. “It’s a way of speaking,” he tried saying between coughs.

She giggled and tapped his back soothingly. “I’m messing with you.” She waited for him to calm down before nodding. “That must suck balls.”

He laughed, a bit more relaxed. “It does, and it doesn’t. I know I inspire a lot of people, as they inspire me. That’s why I… you know, Michelin-star meal—” She was looking at him with a mischievous smile, so he coughed to clear his throat. “Anyway. It’s lonely.”

“What do you do?” she asked, cleaning her tiramisu cup with her spoon.

His eyebrows twitched for a second. She didn’t know? She was friends with Hyejin, but she didn’t know. Should he not tell her? But she surely knew who he was to Hyejin, so should he tell her?

He licked his lips. Be yourself.

“I’m a music producer.”

She whistled. “Like Hyejin’s fiancé, then?” He nodded. “Right, you must work with her father. I keep forgetting that she comes from the music world.” She laughed to herself. “But anyway, lonely? How can that be?” Her pitch was high again and playful. “I imagine you have at least one girl every day trying to make a move on you to fall in your good graces and get that record deal.”

He laughed awkwardly. “I don’t, and I would hate it if I did.”

“Because you’re not into women?”

“Because I’m shy,” he answered quickly and firmly, looking into her eyes. 

Her features slowly lost their teasing glim and sobered. “I wonder about that… you’re talking pretty okay with me.”

He nodded. “There are… reasons for that.”

“Such as?”

“You’re Hyejin’s friend, and you don’t want a music deal.”

She laughed giddily. “How do you know? Maybe this is just us scheming or something.”

He couldn’t help the smirk on his lips. “She could get you something just as easily as I could.”

Angie hummed playfully and leaned into him, and he didn’t move away. “But maybe I'd prefer to be associated with the genius Kim Namjoon?”

He held her eyes with a raised eyebrow. He felt hot and proud at her words, which was unusual for him. Usually, he’d be the first to say he wasn’t that big of a deal. He wasn’t that great. He was honestly nobody. And as the seconds ticked, this truth came to light in his mind. He had to be truthful with her.

“I’m really not that great.” She tilted her head with a smile of who wonders about that. “I’m just a poet,” he added. He tried ignoring the burn on his cheeks. Why would he be that embarrassed? Maybe even that was untrue? “I… I just appreciate art. In all its forms. And try to do something with my thoughts. That’s it.”

He quickly reached for a sip of his whiskey, and then took a deep breath. He felt like he was stammering or vomiting his thoughts without reflection, what the hell was he doing? Why was he oscillating between being relaxed and so freaking nervous?

She smiled warmly. “I’m just teasing you.” She sat back, and he felt weirdly upset about being able to breathe freely again. “So art. What’s your favorite kind of art? Excluding poetry and music?”

“It’s very difficult to choose,” he confessed. He looked at the table for a moment of absolute focus before answering. “I feel like right after hearing, my eyes are the next sense I rely on. So I’m inclined to say anything visual. Anything that invokes things in me that reflect deep thoughts.”

“Interesting,” she said, creasing her forehead a bit. “Would you say it helps with your music?”

“It definitely does,” he agreed instantaneously. “It has helped me a lot to see my struggles reflected and shaped by the hands of so many artists. To see it given color or texture through other means than sounds or words.” He smiled, “I could never do it, but I recognize it because our struggle is the same, it’s human. It’s very freeing in a way.”

Angie smiled softly. She was now totally focused on the man in front of her, sitting turned to him and supporting her head on her hand.

“I wish I knew more about art,” she confessed. His eyes locked with hers for a moment before he looked away with a smile. He was shy; she could see that. But he was also very intriguing. Definitely, the best kind of surprise that night or trip could offer her. She wondered if he understood what she wanted to imply with her words.

“It’s an infinite subject. Even I am still learning about it after years of interest.” His smile was kind. He licked his lips and looked at her again. “I could show you a few things.”

Her lips curved immediately. “I’d like that.”

He pressed his, looking away again. “I went to Europe once to tour many museums.” He turned to her with a smile. “I was in Switzerland for a few days and visited many exhibitions, then Paris, too. I can show you pictures if you’d like.”

She smiled. “That sounds nice. I would have loved to see it myself.”

He sighed. “Yeah. I couldn’t see everything I wanted, I didn’t have the time. I wish I could just go and spend a month or two there, really take in the places. The cultures. They’re so close to each other, but they’re so different. I hiked Mount Rigi last time, but there’s still so much to see in the Swiss Alps, and also in other countries.” 

He was so invested in sharing his thoughts that his eyes were shining. They were close now, and he didn’t mind — quite the opposite. He was normally quiet with his entourage about such things, but with her, he felt accepted. She wasn’t scorning or derisive; she was drinking his words out of interest in new things.

“You should go and do it. Take time off, pause, and do what you truly want.” Her tone was serious. “Life is short. Everyone always told me I’d have to fight tooth and nail to get somewhere and that I’d get there in my old age. Well, I’m nearly thirty and I feel like I’ve reached that place already. And it sucks.” She shrugged, reaching for her drink. “It should feel fulfilling, but it’s empty. I look behind me and see what I’ve missed, what I sacrificed. I realize I’ve won the race, but there’s really nothing to celebrate. And for as much as I may have gained, I became fearful of heights. Because now that everyone knows my potential, everyone would be disappointed if I didn’t meet the quota for just one day. And then… the real loneliness would start.”

A hint of sorrow passed through her features quickly before she downed another champagne flute, and he nodded solemnly.

“There must be something to celebrate. Though… the responsibilities… they follow us,” he said quietly. “Even if I wanted to pause and go, it’s just not possible.”

“I’m telling you it has to be, Namjoon.” Her eyes were shining, but she didn’t hide them away. “There has to be more to life than grinding, burning out, and chasing the idea of success.” She put her glass down, “I keep convincing myself that this is what I wanted, that it was an opportunity all along, that I’m doing something great with myself, but am I?” She seemed to contain her tears of frustration. “I mean, sure, there is an importance to what I’m doing. To what we’re doing. I’m teaching and shaping young minds, and I’m involved in projects that will advance our technology and understanding of the universe significantly. You’re making music people love and inspiring them, like you said. Surely, all of it has meaning. But then why do I feel spent?”

She looked away with an anxious breath, and her eyes fell on Hyejin, who was laughing at the party entrance. That was what happiness looked like.

Her eyes turned back to him and his serious expression. She chuckled. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be bothering you with my existential conundrums.”

“Not at all, I feel like… we’re different, but similar in many ways.”

She looked at him and they stayed in silence for a moment. The party and music were developing all around them while they found some sort of empathy in each other’s existence.

“Maybe,” she acceded, with softening eyes. Her lips curved gently. “It’s not every day I get to talk about this.”

He was going to ask why, but he never did.

“Ahh!” A yell sounded from behind them that had them both turn. The beautiful and glowing Hyejin placed her hands on their shoulders with a smile that could rival the sun. “I’m so happy you found each other!” Namjoon smiled politely, but Angie was furrowing her brow quizzically. Hyejin squeezed her shoulder. “See, I told you you would like him.”

“What do you mean?”

Namjoon opened his mouth, but Hyejin spoke first, “Well, I know you didn’t want a ‘babysitter’, but I chose the best as your company.”

Angie’s eyebrows jumped as her features changed just a little. She smiled with a hint of bitterness. “Indeed.”

Angie cursed herself mentally as she tried not to give her thoughts away. She should have figured the ‘babysitter’ would be the same guy who eavesdropped, though she had thought more than one of her friends would speak English fluently. Hence, they could have been different people. Honestly, she just wanted to make sure he’d stay quiet about what he heard, but maybe the fact that he was cute and interesting clouded her judgment. Perhaps she did have unattainable standards. Perhaps she wasn’t as bright as she thought she was.

Angie’s eyes shifted from Hyejin, who was called and looked away, to Namjoon, who looked worried. That was guilt, wasn’t it? He knew about it; he just played dumb. He could have told her he was the guy Hyejin wanted her to meet, but he decided not to. Probably because he wasn’t interested and didn’t want to embarrass her. Well. She still was.

“I’ll be back in a minute.” Hyejin smiled, seeing she couldn’t avoid whatever problem was calling for her.

As soon as she left, Angie dragged her chair back as Namjoon spoke, “I can explain.”

“A bit too late for that,” her voice was stoic as she got up. “If you’ll excuse me.”

She turned to leave without a second thought. That was freaking embarrassing and utterly disappointing. Maybe she got too tipsy and confident? Maybe. Either way, she never had to talk to him again, so—

“Wait.”

She glanced at him, surprised he had followed her out of the party to the elevator lobby of the hotel, but she didn’t stop. She pressed the button to call the elevator.

He stopped next to her. “Wait.” He swallowed dryly, and she finally looked at him. She showed no emotions on her face, which twisted his stomach even more. “I didn’t know what to say. The way you spoke about it made me feel like it was something bad.”

“Bad?” She couldn’t help but react to such a silly idea. “I told you I would never be bored with you, how is that bad?”

“It isn’t.”

“Then why not tell me?”

“I didn’t want to pressure you. That’s why I chose to be the other guy. I wanted to be the guy you chose to come and find and chat with, not the one Hyejin asked to babysit you and that you didn’t want to meet.”

She stepped inside the elevator, pressed floor seven, and then looked at him. She looked confused and hurt, and he just stood there waiting for her to say something.

“I guess you’re neither now.”

The elevator doors started closing, and he felt a rush. Time slowed — he had a decision to make. He never got to be with someone who understood him. He was always afraid of the backstabbing and image issues. Everyone was watching, and it was too risky to do anything. Everything relating to dating had been relegated to the last spot on his priority list, the furthest corner of his mind and heart. But right there, he could reach out for something that resembled what he always wished he could experience.

So he stepped inside the elevator at the last second, squeezing through the doors. Her eyebrows jumped in surprise.

“But I could be both,” he finally said.

The elevator moved up, and she raised a skeptical eyebrow. He tried not to feel disheartened. She looked incredibly cold and unapproachable for the first time, and it saddened him.

“Explain.”

Despite her detached tone, he felt alive. “I could be the guy you came to find and who stuck around you because you’re interesting and captivating.”

Her lips twitched in skepticism. “You don’t have to work that hard, Mr. Kim Namjoon. I know Hyejin told you to look after me, but I’m going to my room, where I’ll be perfectly safe by myself.”

He didn’t hesitate. “I’m telling you the truth.” 

“Are you? You haven’t exactly been the most truthful.”

He pressed his lips and looked down — that hit him. Hyejin had told him to be himself and lying was not something he ever did. Being dishonest was not like him, and it felt off. 

Angie exited the elevator without saying another word, and Namjoon followed her quietly until she reached for a card to unlock her room door.

“Then let me,” he asked. She pushed the door open. “Let me be truthful.”

She stopped and turned around to face him. She was holding the doorknob in her hand, and the doorway was the line separating them. She considered his words for a moment, then nodded. It couldn’t hurt to hear him out; she already felt humiliated as it was.

“I’m not just a producer,” he said, and she frowned very lightly. He was sure then she honestly didn’t know who he was. “I’m an idol. Do you know what that is?”

“People that sing and dance and are idolized by teenagers?” She seemed confused.

He grimaced. “You get the gist.” He sighed. “We are very well known, so our lives are scrutinized, and it gets lonely.”

She shifted the weight from one foot to the other. “So that’s why you’re here? Because you’re lonely?”

He let out a tense breath. “I’m here because you are enticing. Your words, your mind. You’re so captivating I could just talk to you all night to learn your ideas about everything the world has to offer.”

“You want to chat?”

He opened his mouth, unsure about what to say. She removed her high heels, threw them inside, and then heaved a deep breath.

“I don’t know what to think of you right now.” She admitted, then shrugged. “I figured you didn’t say anything because you didn’t want to give me the impression you were interested that way, and that’s fine. But then why follow me here?” He became flustered, and she just shook her head. “You’re worried about me complaining to Hyejin? I won’t. Are you feeling guilty? You’re forgiven. Let’s just forget about all of this—”

“That’s not it,” he managed to get out.

“Then what is it?”

He opened his mouth and fought his words multiple times until he let go. “I don’t want it to end.”

“What?”

“Our talk. Our interaction. You said you didn’t get to talk about these things. Well, I don’t either. And it’s so much more interesting because you’re not a musician or an artist, yet we feel things the same way.” He closed his hands as if he could grab the moment, then let them fall to his sides. Was he conveying the message properly? “What I mean is that there’s a potential for a unique connection, for a unique moment. I want to seize it, just like I want to go to Europe and hike the Swiss Alps. Like you said I should. Just pause and do what I really want to do.”

She observed him in silence for a moment as she went over what he said.

“But why didn’t you tell me before? You could have just said it.”

His cheeks warmed up. “You seemed to imply that Hyejin chose someone to… to sleep with you. I didn’t want to scare you away, so I thought it would be best not to mention it.”

Her eyebrows puckered in confusion. “But whatever reason Hyejin uses to choose you has nothing to do with you. You could have still just said it.”

He smiled and rubbed his face, embarrassed but sort of happy. “You’re right, I should have.”

She wasn’t smiling. “All this just because you don’t want to sleep with someone. Just say it next time and avoid the trouble.”

“What?”

“You heard me.” She groaned mutely, pressing her nose bridge. “Now if you’ll excuse me—”

“No, that’s not it.”

She raised an impatient eyebrow. “I got it wrong again?”

“Yes,” he said confidently, which intrigued her.

“Explain it to me then.”

“I never said I didn’t want to sleep with you.” He didn’t know where he got the courage to say those words, but maybe it was because he didn’t want any more misunderstandings. Her eyebrows jumped in surprise. “I said I didn’t want to pressure you, I said I didn’t want our talk to end, I said I followed you because you’re enticing. I said I didn’t want to scare you away. I didn’t want you to think anything we were doing was coming from a place of 'she's just promiscuous, and we'll sleep together anyway'.”

Her lips twitched as she tried to deduce something. “Then…”

“I wanted it to just be genuine.” He shrugged. “If you were interested and I was interested, then cool.”

“Are you interested?”

He smiled despite looking at the floor for a second. “I followed you all the way here, didn’t I?”

She blinked as her features morphed into surprise and realization. “You did.”

He gave her a moment before asking, “Are you? Interested?”

She finished her line of thought and she decided she no longer had reasons to feel embarrassed. His lie had come from a good place, and although she disliked feeling deceived, she was willing to forgive him.

“I am.”

They stared at each other in a lighter atmosphere. He felt warm and sort of happy, but he didn't want to push anything. He was glad they sorted things out. It didn’t feel awkward; he just didn’t feel any need to rush it.

“That’s… that’s good.” He smiled. “Then, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You’re not coming in?” she asked, surprised. He was confused, and she turned around to enter the room. “Only if you want to, of course.”

She dropped her handbag on a chair and turned to see him still in the same place. His hands were on the doorframe, as if to prevent him from crossing that threshold, and she raised her eyebrows. He looked down at the floor for a second but then dropped his hands and entered the room, closing the door softly behind him.

She smiled. “I’d offer you a drink,” she opened the mini-fridge, “but I don’t want us to get drunk.”

He was smiling, too. He felt lightheaded. “That’s okay.”

“How about a coke?”

“Sounds good,” he agreed, accepting it from her.

She also opened a can and sat on the bed with her legs bent by her knees. 

"Didn't you have something to show me?" she asked, then took a sip. He just stared at her. "Photos of your trip?"

"Right!"

He pulled his phone from his slacks pocket and sat next to her. She leaned in to check his phone, but her eyes quickly moved to what risked captivating her more than any work of art he could show her. That tight dark blue suit made his shoulders look broad and firm. He was taller than her, even in heels, and he looked pristine and lean under all that haute couture. She could appreciate a man who could talk well and look good, but to find a devoted artist and poet under all that was… like straight out of movies or novels. 

She nodded and listened attentively to his explanations about the art pieces and exhibitions. He was light and free when speaking of such things, and she could not see an idol or famous person. He was too real, too grounded, too connected with his inner self to appear shallow and superficial. She didn’t have enough of that in her life, she was always with people who were analytical, cynical, and skeptical, much like she was. That fresh outlook on life, on a human’s soul, and on feeling was so touching that she wanted to interact with him just to know what it was like.

He was explaining this painting of a fallen angel and its themes of catharsis and redemption when she got up from bed to put their empty cans away.

“What do they say? To be able to fly you have to learn how to fall?”

He eyed her from head to toe and nodded quietly. He never thought a physics genius could be so empathetic and understanding. She had a caring soul that transpired in every single comment, even when she was rational about the themes he was trying to explain. He felt like she could be an anchor, a defined line around his countless smudges of color. He should feel contained, maybe underestimated, but instead, he felt elevated. He felt like they were mutually showing the other how they perceived life, and it was incredibly unique. He knew that could have happened after a few minutes with her, but now after maybe more than one hour, he was completely certain.

“It’s getting late,” she commented, and he nodded, putting his phone down.

“You’re right. We need to get some sleep before tomorrow's wedding,” he said, gently smiling.

“Would you help me with my hair?” she asked, then turned around. “They used so many pins, could you take them off?”

“Sure,” he immediately acquiesced, throwing his phone on the bed and nearing her. But then he pressed his lips, eying the braided hairdo. “I’m afraid I might hurt you.”

“You won't, don’t worry about it. You should be able to see them pretty well.”

He was still eying her hair nervously, but it was true he could see the black hairpins among her blonde threads. So he risked it and reached for the first one very slowly. He gained more confidence as he went on, and they giggled when a few proved too stubborn to come out on the first try. 

Then suddenly, her braid fell over her back, and his smile dropped. He was incredibly close to her, and he could smell her orchid perfume perfectly. Her skin looked smooth and delicate, and the line of her neck was a feminine invitation. Her hair was beautiful and soft, and now he didn’t have an excuse to touch it anymore.

She pulled her braid over her shoulder to open it and pass her fingers through the hair strands. She glanced over her shoulder at him. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

Their voices were both low and warm as they eyed each other. She was wondering what she could do to give him a hint, whereas he was fighting his urges. He shouldn’t go too fast, and she hadn’t expressed clear consent, so—

She suddenly grimaced and pressed her neck, and he spoke without thinking, “Are you tense?”

She nodded but immediately closed her eyes, her senses overcharged. His fingers pressed and gently massaged her tired muscles, first on her neck, then her shoulders and spine. Her lips parted in absolute satisfaction at his dexterous hands. Could he get any better?

Eventually, his fingers slowed in rhythm and stopped, and she turned her head to the side and said, “Don’t stop.”

Her tone was low and pleading, and he looked at her profile with his hands still on her delicate shoulders. She was beautiful, like a nymph from a painting from the masters. Her elegant curves inevitably attracted him, her dainty lines echoing everything in him, from desire to devotion. He felt like one of those foolish men who would wish to lose themselves in the purity and nurturing embrace of such an ethereal deity, and he had to take a deep breath to catch himself.

She turned around, and their foreheads connected as he swallowed. He was eager to have her despite knowing he could lose himself and disappear, just like Hylas once had in that ancient myth.

She touched his jaw gently and leaned in slowly, and he let her. Their lips touched and brushed briefly, and his breath hitched. He was immediately curious and chased her lips to feel her better. Her kiss was just as delicate as she was, and he was filled with this want to discover, know, partake, and dive in.

His hands supported her neck and jaw when she pulled away just enough to speak. “Are you comfortable continuing this?”

He almost chuckled, but he was sensible enough to smile. “Yes.” His tone was sure. “Are you?”

Her hands moved over his shoulders. “Oh yes. Yes.”

She leaned in to capture his lips again, and he smiled through their kiss, so incredibly happy to have the opportunity to touch her. To kiss her. 

But he wanted more than that, and as their kiss built up, he started losing his grip. Their kisses were sloppy as their tongues played, his body was spiking with heat at her hands exploring his chest and pulling his blazer off to firmly squeeze his shoulders. His hands, which had been respectfully on her waist, became curious and decided to palm her curves. Those sensual curves that the dress failed to express vividly enough. 

She reached for his belt, and he swallowed, trying to catch his breath as she kissed his cheek. That was happening, he thought. He looked at her, whose brown eyes shone with desire while she breathed heavily. He had one second to decide before—

Her hand got inside his pants, and he closed his eyes, feeling her explore his erection. She observed his reaction; she found the right angle and pulled his hard-on out. He was utterly absorbed in the sensation of her gripping him firmly, and she wondered for a split second if that reaction was genuine. He looked like a thirsty man who had just found an oasis, and she would think this odd if he was a famous idol that millions of people desired.

His hands gently pushed her to sit on the bed. Then, he kneeled by her side, and she eyed him. That man was the reincarnation of Adonis; there was no doubt in her mind about it.

“Can I touch you?”

Her features softened. “You have to touch me.”

His hands grabbed her lilac dress that covered her legs and pulled it up anxiously. She helped him do it all the way to her waist before she leaned back with him half over her. He reached her lips as his hands traced her legs, and the higher he went, the more she started losing her mind. Still, before he could touch her, she reached for his erection again to pump him gently. Instantly, he grunted quietly, and she smiled slyly, incredibly proud that she could make him sound like that.

However, quickly a sigh was escaping her lips when his fingers reached her center over her panties. There was no doubt in her mind that he’d be able to get that and more out of her.

“You’re so warm,” he whispered against her lips, descending to her neck. 

Her hand jerking him off made it hard to process, but his fingers quickly pulled her panties aside to feel her and damn. She was so wet and ready that his cock twitched. She moaned quietly with his touch exploring her folds and core, and he felt it in her neck as he kissed it. She would surely make the most beautiful music for him if he played her correctly, and he intended to.

His fingers reached her clit to rub it gently, and she gasped, completely frozen. He pulled away to observe her expression with parted lips, squinted eyes, and knitted eyebrows.

“Like that?” he asked, his voice tense.

She looked up at him, an expression of pleasure so sensual he had a hard time thinking. 

“Yeah,” she sighed and restarted moving her hand on his shaft. 

His fingers were too fucking good, or maybe she was just that turned on. Her core was clenching around nothing despite the simple gesture of his digits, but she knew it was more than that. He was an attractive and attentive man observing her through greedy but respectful eyes. Like she was worthy of his praise, attention, and care, and that adoration spiked it up for her.

So she tried making it last by focusing on her hand on his erection. It had been a while since she had last done that, but what mattered was reading his cues. He preferred a firm grip instead of light, he preferred the tip instead of broad, all-encompassing movements, and he preferred slower and intense movements rather than fast and light. Soon he grunted, and she smiled yet again.

“That feels very good,” he managed to get out with closed eyes.

“I’m glad,” she whispered.

They had reached a balance, and they could see it in each other’s eyes. So when her lips curved in a playful smile, so did his.

When he looked down, he grunted mutely at the view of his hand between her legs. He was imagining what she would feel like, but there was nothing better than finding out. His fingers slipped in, and she moaned.

“You’re so tight and warm,” his voice strained at the thought of replacing his fingers with his twitching cock.

She was pulsating around his fingers. “Imagine how comfortable you’d be… inside me.”

He looked at her, and she was already eying him back. Her expression tensed when he reached his thumb over her clit, her jaw clenched. She couldn’t find it in herself to be annoyed when every new touch felt better than the one before. 

Suddenly, he looked down at her hand on his dick. “Do we have condoms?”

She tried thinking rationally for a second, then cursed under her breath. “I don’t.”

She felt irritation spring from deep inside her chest; that was very stupid of her. She couldn’t have known she would meet someone interesting and get involved with him, but fuck. She should have been better prepared just in case she did.

She took a deep breath. “Don’t worry about it right now. We can have fun in other ways.” She smiled playfully to ease him, but quickly his fingers reached somewhere deep inside her that stole her breath away. “Is that okay?” she whispered, breathless.

“That’s okay…”

He was sad he wouldn’t be able to feel her as he intended, but that was for the best. He was already out of his mind with excitement that all that was happening anyway.

His movements became firmer as he leaned on her neck. “I want to know what you sound like.”

She tried repressing a moan, but his rough fingering made it very challenging. “If you keep doing that, you’ll find out soon enough.”

He smirked at her teasing and decided to go rougher, though not faster. He instantly knew he made the right choice because her hand on him became sloppy as if forgotten, and her legs started spreading to give him more space. He prioritized his thumb over her clit in wide rough circles, and her waist started bucking. When he pulled away to look at her, he smiled. She was close to falling apart. 

She looked at him through puckered eyebrows almost pleadingly, and he licked his lips, wishing for nothing but the moment when it would happen. Suddenly she gasped and arched her back, then a roll of moans echoed from deep inside her throat. He fucked her with his fingers, completely absorbed by the sensual sounds her beautiful self was producing. When she settled, he couldn’t contain his pride. He made her fall apart; he played her correctly and created that music through her. He felt honored and happy and extremely turned on, and she knew it because she immediately tightened her grip on his dick and hastened the movements.

“Did you like it? How I sound when I cum?”

He opened his eyes which had closed momentarily to look at her pink cheeks and shiny eyes. She looked satisfied and hungry at the same time. His lips pulled — nymph was the right word for her.

“Definitely, yes,” he groaned quietly.

“I know you did.” She smiled and looked down. He was covered in precum, and it was the perfect lube for her hand. “Have you wondered what I taste like?”

He blinked, his brain freezing for a second. Then he seemed to recall his hand still inside her, whose fingers were dripping slick. 

He could find out.

But she quickly stopped him. “No.” His hand stopped, though his mouth was open and waiting. “Not yet. You can find out after.”

“After?”

“After.”

Then she reached for his glistening hand and guided it to her mouth. She licked his wet fingers and sucked on them all while she kept pumping him. 

He groaned. “Is it good?” he asked, completely beside himself.

She chuckled. “You’ll find out in a minute.”

“I will?”

She smiled teasingly, still playing with his fingers and her tongue. “If I’m lucky.”

He groaned through a smile; he wanted to lick her and find out. He wanted to discover everything tonight.

“Where do I cum?”

She smiled. “Make my hands messy.”

He looked down at her hands on him, tip to base, working on him perfectly, then at her body, her lean legs, female curves, her chest and modest cleavage, and then at his hand on her chin. It was now thoroughly cleaned as she looked at him with hunger. He felt a prickle of shyness; she was looking at him as pleasure risked tearing him apart, but she looked absolutely invested. He dared think she was into him, that a beautiful nymph like her would look at him twice and be interested in his pleasure, and that pushed him over the edge. The thought of being with her and her wanting to be with him was enough to make him grunt deeply and pop. He grabbed her hands around his dick so he could slide in them pleasurably as his warm cum collected there and dripped on the sheets.

When he finished, he took a deep breath with his eyes closed. He didn’t see her smile, nor was he bothered when she got up and went to wash her hands in the bathroom. He just sighed, still kneeling on the bed. That felt good; being there was good. He craved that satisfaction, but he very rarely attained it. He sighed again.

She came back and lay on the bed again, prompting him to do the same. Their heart rates were normal now, and she smiled playfully while he was still processing.

“Not having condoms sucks.” She huffed, and he nodded. “But we can still have fun.”

He adjusted the pillow under him, wanting so much for that to be so, when he suddenly gasped.

He got up and reached for his wallet in his blazer on the floor, and opened it. It took some effort, but very safely hidden was a wrapper that he waved victoriously. 

She grinned. “Good job! That’s a nice party trick.”

He smiled with pink cheeks. “I didn’t even remember I had it, it’s been there since—” His voice died when he turned the wrapper around, and then he closed his eyes.

“What?” she asked, curious. She sat up and took it from him since he wasn’t reacting, and when she saw it, she fell on the bed and burst out laughing. “Oh my god, I can’t!”

He was blushing even harder. “It’s really been there for years, I don’t even remember when I put it there…”

She was still laughing. “Clearly! I mean, how long do condoms stay good? Five years?”

He tried taking it from her with a pout. “Well, we don’t have to use it, forget I—”

She hid the condom by pressing it to her chest and raised her eyebrows. “Are you joking? Using an expired one is better than nothing. We’re using it.” Her voice was so firm he stopped in his tracks. “Unless you don’t want to, of course.”

“I want to,” he breathed immediately, eying her under him. He didn’t even realize he was shamelessly admitting to wanting her that badly, he was just enamored by the sight of her smiling teasingly.

“Then we have that to look forward to.” She smiled, putting it aside on the bed before raising her hands to feel his torso through his shirt. “How tired are you?”

“Not tired,” he murmured.

She grinned, and her hands reached his shoulders. “How fast do you recover?”

His cheeks warmed up wildly. “I… it depends…”

“Tonight. How much can I hope to have from you?”

Her hands on him mixed with her words were making him hot and unable to think. “I don’t know, it’s been a while since I… needed to perform like that.”

Her smile softened. “Let's find out together then. For now… I want to strip you.” His eyes roamed down her lilac dress for a second before trailing back up to find her tongue peeking playfully between her teeth. “Is that okay?”

“Yes.” 

She sat up, forcing him to move out of the way. Every yes of his sounded like a sigh, almost like happiness or relief for her initiative. She had no problems with that; she wanted him to relax even more. Maybe he would as they got comfortable.

Being naked always meant a significant amount of vulnerability, and they were both aware of that. They kissed slowly while comfortably sitting in bed and helped each other take off each piece of clothing at their own pace. He took most of his clothes off first, starting with his waistcoat, shirt, inner tee shirt, and then his slacks, but not without getting rid of his shoes and socks first. She was there to help him between kisses, happily distracting him.

She giggled when he made his shoes flip in the air with how fast he tried taking them off, and he smiled at her. Finally, he lay back down in bed and traced her uncovered legs. She still had her dress on, and he pecked her cheek almost reverently before asking, “Where’s the zipper?”

She bit her lip through a smile. “On the back.”

She got up from the bed and turned around so he could pull the zipper all the way down. The fabric parted to show her soft skin, and he traced it softly as he guided the dress strips to fall from her shoulders.

Her bra became visible, and he brushed the silky cloth. “Can I take it off?”

“I was hoping you would.”

He unhooked it and traced her skin again slowly, this time leaning in to nuzzle it softly as he pulled everything off. She had goosebumps all over, and a wave of warmth invaded her as she forgot how to breathe. He was so delicate and reverent that she felt like the most precious person he had ever touched, and she was into that. Being treated adoringly turned her on like crazy; he was pressing all the right keys.

She turned to him so he could push her strapless bra off and fully lay her bare, and he didn’t disappoint. He gently pulled it off along with the dress that fell to the floor, and his eyes roamed her body hungrily. She was so beautiful and elegant that he was totally hypnotized. 

He didn’t ask for permission and just dove for her chest, lowering himself to reach those perky nipples and take one in his mouth and another in his hand. He truly didn’t know how long his body would take to come alive again or how he would perform, but he was happy that just seeing her naked immediately pumped him up. He sat on the bed and pulled her by the waist to continue the ministrations of his tongue, lips, and teeth on her chest, and she moaned breathlessly and petted his head. His hands lowered to the small of her back, then to her ass, and he squeezed, feeling his hard dick throb inside his boxers. That was the finest offering he could ever have had, and he wanted it.

“You’re so beautiful,” he told her in between letting go of one nipple to lick the other with wet traces and suckling sounds. He squeezed her asscheeks again, making her moan. “So beautiful. I need to have you,” he admitted, tracing his hands to pull her panties down.

His lips descended to her stomach before his hands pulled her to support her knees on the bed on either side of him. Suddenly, though, he grabbed her by the waist and lifted her so he could lay her in bed under him. She giggled when her hair splayed over the bed, and she looked down at him.

“It looks like you’re ready again,” she pointed out.

He didn’t need to look at the tent in his boxers. “I am, but I want to taste you first.”

Her lips curved with amusement as he leaned in to trail down her body with kisses, focusing on her mound and inner thighs to her delight. She was trembling involuntarily when his lips brushed hers and she squirmed in both want and shyness. He licked her across her slit, taking in her flavor, then he chuckled, unsurprised.

“Of course, you’d be delicious too,” he muttered before getting down to business.

Angie moaned breathlessly and more and more as his tongue circled her clit. Her eyes were closed as she gripped the sheets, completely focused on what he was doing. She cursed herself for having had one orgasm already because that would make it harder right now for him. He didn’t look like he wanted to give up, but she didn’t want to tire him.

“You’re so sexy,” he encouraged her, which invariably kept on melting her. “Make that sound again,” he asked as he suckled on her clit. 

She did the sound he wanted but gritted her teeth. She was needy. “I want you,” she moaned as soon as she could breathe.

He smiled with glistening lips, using two fingers to feel her tightness. “That’s a good idea… I was hoping to make you cum first, though…”

God, he was so freaking adorable she couldn’t handle it. “Give me a second.”

She reached out to stop his hand and gently move him away, and he let her. She got up and searched for something in her luggage — a black cloth bag. She grabbed it and then threw it on the bed.

“What’s this?” Namjoon reached to grab it and immediately figured it out. “Oh, I see.”

She hopped on the bed next to him. “Don’t take this the wrong way,” she pleaded, suddenly worried. He looked let down despite his smile. “You’ll get me there, but since I already had an orgasm, you’ll probably lose the ability to move your jaw and you might need to talk tomorrow.” He chuckled at the way she put it, and she felt confident about touching him again. She trailed a finger down his arm. “You were doing it wonderfully,” she smiled, looking down at his excitement. “And I’m more than happy to return the favor.”

He pressed his lips. “That’s— Only if you want to, you don’t have to.”

She smiled and reached for the vibrator. “You in my mouth will be the exact thing to make me cum. So, will you do it?”

“What do you mean?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Would you… let me blow you while I pleasure myself?” He raised his eyebrows further in surprise. “I mean, you can control the toy if you want, I just mean… that would turn me on and push me to cum.”

“I can use my fingers,” he seemed to think out loud.

She tilted her head. “You can if you can focus on two things at once.”

“Fair point.” He chuckled. “Multitasking is not my thing.”

She bit her lip. “Actually, if you would be into it, you could fuck my mouth.” His mouth opened. “I mean, you know, only if you’re into that.”

“I’m into that, I…” He rubbed the surprise off his face. “You just keep on surprising me.”

“In a bad way?” she asked, fearful.

“No, in a good way.” He reached for her hand. “We’re actually talking about what we want and expect before doing anything, which is great.”

She smiled. “I agree. It’s… very easy to talk to you, in fact.” She looked at their hands, then at the tent in his boxers. “And it doesn’t kill your mood, which is so refreshing,” she admitted. “I love it when I can communicate what I want and like without feeling like everything is ruined.”

He chuckled. “You almost had me… but you want to include me, so that’s okay.”

“What do you mean? Almost killed your mood?”

“Yeah…” He shrugged. “When the girl you’re with seems to prefer a toy to you, I mean…”

“Wow, are you crazy?” She got on her knees. “I’m freaking done with toys, so done,” her tone was laced with exasperation and he smirked. She was getting on his lap, and he supported her waist. “I’m one hundred percent into you,” she underlined, lacing her words with want. 

Now straddling his lap, they were close and personal. She grabbed his erection over the boxers to position it so it would grind on her nicely as she moved her hips. She had to lean back and support herself on her other hand, making the view sinful. 

He supported her waist while eating her with his eyes and drinking her soft moans until she sat back up. He then dove into her chest again, ravishing the flesh in range of his mouth while she moved her waist to grind his cock slowly and gently but firmly enough to help him draw lustful moans out of her. 

She gripped his hair. “Did you feel how wet I was?” He hummed while flicking his tongue on her nipple. “Then you know how much you turn me on.”

The more she moved her hips, the crazier she became with the thought of his hard cock inside her. His mouth on her chest was not making it easier.

“Fuck, I want to ride you.”

He hummed. “You want a lot of things.”

She giggled. “I do, it’s all your fault.” She bit her lip and pushed him to lay back on the bed with her over him. “Take some responsibility, Namjoon.”

“I will. Tell me what you want.”

She lay completely on him, and straddling his cock felt even better. She moaned, ghosting over his lips. “Stay like that, and let me ride you until I come on your dick.”

He groped her hips to help her move. “That sounds reasonable.”

She grinned, then reached for the condom. “I hope you can resist because it’s up to you how much we can get done.”

He chuckled. “You’re giving me too much responsibility.”

“I know, I’ll try my best to make it easy for you,” she sassily retorted, getting off him. He removed his boxers so she could put the condom on him. “Feel free to tell me if I feel so good you’ll burst,” she added with a mischievous smile before getting on his lap again.

“You’re very confident,” he teased, supporting her waist again.

She leaned on him and aimed his cock inside her. “Oh, I am.” She made it a point to take him in slowly and in stages all while nuzzling his nose and seeing his reactions. His lips parted and eyes closed, and with every inch, his nails sank into her hips. “How long has it been since you felt a tight pussy around you?” He was trying not to groan and it rilled her up. “All dripping, just waiting for you to push yourself in?” Her voice was taunting, but laced with lust. “When was the last time you had a woman like me riding you?”

He bottomed out and she could feel him twitching inside her, which had her taking deep breaths to stay calm. The fact that she was the person getting to fuck him egged her on. That sexy, interesting, and sensible guy was a treasure that she was more than willing to have.

“I can’t recall,” he admitted, panting. “But I certainly never had one with a mouth as sassy as yours.”

She giggled as he smiled. She nuzzled his nose. “I gave you a chance to fuck this sassy mouth.”

“It’s still in my plans,” he admitted, finally looking at her.

“Perfect. Now let me milk you right,” she whispered sensually before adjusting her angle to move.

He was so deep inside her that reaching an orgasm would be a piece of cake. All that dirty talk had turned her on bad and his dick stretching her to the brink was taking her there.

“You feel so good,” he let out, still gripping her hips as if ready to stop her at any moment.

“I know,” she cooed, kissing his cheek. “How lucky are you that I’m riding you right now?”

“Very lucky,” he breathed.

“Very fucking lucky indeed,” she groaned, biting his cheek softly. “Will you give me your cum?”

“Oh yes.”

She cursed, grinding her clit on him perfectly to get her there before she fell apart in moans over his mouth. He focused on feeling her pulsing around him, taking deep breaths to take in that sensation without letting it unfocus him. Her moans as she came were beautiful, covering him with goosebumps and glee. 

When she sighed and searched for his lips, he hugged her closer and kissed her. She was blushing and glowing and it filled him with pride to see her smile.

“See how into you I am?”

He chuckled and stayed calmly in place, letting her recover from her high.

“How much would you like to fuck me right now?” She pecked his jaw and eyed him with mischief.

“A lot,” he admitted.

“I do deserve it after riding you so well, no?” She nibbled on his neck and he stretched while grabbing her asscheeks.

“Oh yes, absolutely.” He couldn’t stop smiling as if he had hit a jackpot.

She bit his earlobe before sitting up and getting off him. They both noticed how absolutely covered in slick he was, and then she got all fours.

“Show me how much I deserve it,” she asked sensually, moving her blonde hair over her shoulder. He sat up and touched her breasts. “Hmm, show me how much you appreciate being able to fuck me.”

He leaned in to kiss her as he squeezed her breasts, making her puff in between their kisses until she whimpered. Then he moved to get behind her. He groped her asscheeks, spreading them for him, and licked his lips. She looked so fucking good, like temptation, and he wanted to bury himself balls deep.

He aimed his cock at her core and slid in quickly, grunting with the sensation. She was so tight it caused an electric pulse to go up and down his spine. He moved his hips a few times and shuddered, trying to collect himself.

“Are you ready to admit I was right?”

Her tone was playful, but he only grunted. “I can admit that you deserve a nice pounding.”

She chuckled at the way his voice was tense and his nails sank on her hips. “If you want to spank me, you can.”

He leaned in and kissed her back with a smile on his lips. “Aren’t you full of surprises?”

“Aren’t you very lucky?” He smacked her ass, making a thin moan escape her throat. “Does it change anything?” He eyed her as he fucked her slowly. “Does it change the fact that you’re dying to fuck me?” He smacked her ass again, and she giggled right after moaning. “I’d love for you to mark me, don’t be afraid.”

“I don’t get you… You want to be worshiped, but you also want to be used?” He cleaned the sweat off his brow. He needed to understand her to decide how to go about it.

“You might use me, but it had to be me.” She bit her lip with the pleasure rushing through her from his pounding. “You might do whatever you want to me, but the point is that you want me. Only I can make you feel this way. It will always be a form of worship.”

“You do feel very good…” he admitted, then slapped her ass again. “You take my cock very well.”

She moaned between words. “Your cock… is so good… I’m fucking happy I didn’t miss out on this.”

He chuckled and leaned forward to grab her tits, fucking her so deep that her moans pitched.

“Fuck, you’re deep.”

He groaned. “You're taking me so well…”

Too well, in fact. He had to straighten back up and calm his pace. 

She giggled. “Too much?” He struck her asscheek so hard it echoed, yet she laughed again. “You’re so my type I can’t control it, I’m sorry.”

He squeezed her asscheeks. “I’m your type, huh?”

She wiggled her ass as if she wanted him to move his fingers. “Cute, attentive, sexy, and smart.” He wasn’t sure where to move his hands, so he moved his fingers away, but she whimpered. “No, touch me. You can use me, Namjoon. I talk big but I want you to fuck me so bad,” she whined, moving her hips against his for him to fuck her deeper.

He was tempted to, but first, he slid his fingers between her asscheeks, and she trembled. She incentivized him by bucking her hips until he rubbed her asshole, making her moan deeper.

“You like that?”

She moaned again and he decided to rub it at the same rhythm he fucked her. Her asshole started twitching, and when it did he felt it around his cock, too. She was getting tighter and wetter and he was completely up to his limit.

“Am I milking you right?” she asked in a breathy voice.

“Yeah, I’m close. I’ll stop playing with you and fuck you now, okay?”

He didn’t see the way she paused and blinked her eyes, confused. “Wh—?”

He positioned himself better behind her and unleashed his energy. He didn’t care how or what he was doing, as long as his cock was ramming right into her every time and hitting deep. Her thin moans were uncontrollable and music to his ears. She wanted to milk him, she deserved a good fucking, and he was going to give it to her.

Her face landed on the pillow as she lost her balance, and he angled deeper. She could not think with the fast pace he was thrusting into her, and all the sloppy sounds and slaps were just the icing on top. She never got to shut her brain off, but that’s exactly what happened and it was bliss. Her hand darted to her clit, covered in her juices, and she moaned desperately for her release. She wasn't planning on it, but she was beyond being organized and structured; that kind of pleasure was not premeditated or controlled, it was imposed.

He leaned on her and talked to her but she couldn’t register. 

“Yeah?” She finally caught him saying. “You want it? Cum for me. Cum with me.”

Her brain lit up like a firework popping and she moaned in a frenzy, cumming so hard he had to hold her hips in place or she would have fallen apart away from him. Her pleasure rippled and rippled until she was left a void drooling mess and it was… peaceful. Satisfyingly so.

He got off her and lay next to her, gently pulling her to fall to the sheets by his side. 

“Are you okay?” he asked with a hint of concern as he pulled her hair out of her face.

She was still panting with her mouth open, and she blinked. It took her a moment to react. “What… What the hell was that?”

“What?” 

“You— how did you—?” She opened and closed her eyes. “I’m so mind-blown right now.”

He grinned happily as they tangled their legs together. “In a good way, right?”

She was still shocked. “You— You’re good. My god, are you fucking good. That had never happened to me before.”

“What?”

“My brain shutting down like that.” She shrugged, hugging herself.

He scooted closer and hugged her. “It was good, then.”

“It was awesome, it’s what it was.”

Her tone was so firm he just smiled. “I’m happy.”

She reached to trace his jaw. “You really are something.”

He let his forehead touch hers and looked deeply into her eyes. “So are you.”

They quieted, calming down as their sweaty bodies cooled down, and eventually, the lethargy became too much. As if on automatic pilot, she got up to pee and he took care of the condom and did the same. They only needed a few minutes, then they threw themselves in bed and snuggled together to sleep relaxedly.

*****

Despite her sluggishness, Angie eventually woke up and looked around, confused. She thought it was the jetlag still messing her up after three days. She reached for her phone: 5:53 AM. She sighed deeply and put her phone away; she could still sleep.

Someone moved behind her, wrapping an arm around her waist, and she closed her eyes. For a split second, she thought she had dreamed of him, but that fresh, citrus, and woody scent reminded her that it was all real. She turned under his arm, and he leaned in to unite their foreheads still in his sleep. That gave her the opportunity to look at him with a small smile, feeling so peaceful. She didn’t know how he managed to relax her like that, but it was certainly something to be praised.

She closed her eyes, ready to fall back asleep, when his nose softly nuzzled hers. She sighed and hugged him closer — she was awake, and they could do whatever he wanted. His lips pressed to hers gently, and she smiled at his delicate and gentlemanly actions. They kissed slowly and softly for a while before she moved her hand to trail his torso. She was getting hotter; there was still so much of him she hadn't explored yet.

He seemed to get hot as well and pull her closer, taking equal opportunity to touch her. She squeezed his shoulder, incentivizing him to do as he pleased, and couldn’t contain the moans as he did. He felt and pressed her curves firmly, and when she evaded his mouth so she could breathe out a moan, he quickly caught her neck in between his teeth. She scratched his skin and grazed his scalp in approval, rolling with him to get him on top of her.

His kisses got more demanding, and she was completely on the same wavelength. She wanted him to touch her and handle her however he saw fit. He had earned that.

He trailed down her neck and quickly made his stop over her chest. His tongue and mouth were warm and wet, and she squirmed with want, opening her legs instantly. He nipped her once, twic,e and it only vexed her more; she was already so ready for his touch.

His fingers brushed her folds before searching for her wetness, and she stopped breathing, completely focused on what was going to happen next. He eyed her attentively, feeling that shift on her chest. It prompted him to remove his fingers, which made her raise an eyebrow, but his intentions immediately became clear. He gave her one last kiss before moving down so that his mouth could now reach her mound, and she trembled.

His lips brushed her lower ones softly and increasingly with more pressure until his tongue opened her up. She gasped for air with the way he seemed to want to lick her slit clean, knowing perfectly well that was the way to just make her even wetter. His hands grabbed her hips to stay in place when his mouth moved over her clit, and he was not gentle. She writhed under him with whiny moans; she could feel his smile on her as he licked her clit deliciously.

She couldn’t stop squirming and trying to escape it while simultaneously being annoyed whenever he lost contact with her bud. She started moving her hips, and her moans dragged.

“Use your lips,” she pleaded, and the sensation became less wet but firmer. “Yeah, like that.”

She was unaware of his hungry eyes on her, seeing her tremble. He was trying to keep a steady pace for her, but she was making it hard.

Then she suddenly propped on her elbows. “Let me ride your mouth.”

He raised his eyebrows and gave her folds one last kiss before pulling away. She seemed to realize what she had just said while he licked his lips and sat up.

She was blushing hard. “I mean, if you’re okay with that.”

He was already lying down, pushing the pillows away. “I’m more than okay with that, come here.”

She took the hand he was offering and got on her knees. She then passed a leg over him to sit on his stomach. She tried her hardest not to just jump on his glistening mouth, but he incentivized her by pushing the small of her back in his direction. That, along with his hand still holding hers for support, pushed her to sit where she wanted to with a deep sigh.

She cursed. “Tap me if you need me to stop, okay?”

His hands felt her hips firmly before he moved so his lips could disappear under her, and she gasped. He felt too fucking good; she would come in a literal minute if he kept—

She sucked in a moany breath and started bucking her hips as gently as she could. He was a fucking sin with the way he managed to suckle on her clit every time it passed his mouth, just to let it go seconds later. And yet, every time she did her hip rotation, he was right there, waiting, pressing her hips down so the rub would be as intense as possible. She was too turned on, too far off, so when his nails sank into her skin to keep her close, she only needed a few seconds to fall apart.

He licked her and mouthed her roughly as she came, keeping her core as close to his mouth as possible. She had to whine because of the overstimulation, and only then did he let go. She stumbled back, completely alienated on how to control her own body, but he had her. He quickly reached to support her back so she wouldn’t just fall off him. Instead, he helped her sit back on his lap graciously. 

He sat up and brushed the hair away from her red, hot face. “You make the most beautiful sounds.”

She opened her glistening eyes to him and chortled. “You make me do them.”

He grinned happily. “I do.”

She was still recovering from the hastened heartbeat in her chest, but she reached to kiss him nonetheless. His mouth tasted of her, and it lit her up. She bit his lip, clenching around nothing. She shouldn’t feel possessive, but she couldn’t help it.

“Remember my sassy mouth?”

He cradled her neck and kissed the corner of her mouth. “I do.”

“I don’t think I can articulate much yet, but how about doing what you planned?”

He chuckled at the hint of neediness in her voice. “You mean you blowing me while you pleasure yourself?”

“Or you fucking my mouth, whichever you prefer.” She sighed, nuzzling his nose.

He nuzzled her back and hummed for a moment.

“We can start with you and see how you feel.”

She pecked his lips to seal the deal and immediately moved away. She grabbed a pillow and threw it on the floor before kneeling on it; then she tapped the edge of the bed.

“Come here.”

He moved to sit there with her between his legs, and she drew closer, leaning down to kiss his crotch and lower belly before nuzzling her way down to his balls. 

He grabbed her hair out of the way without any pressure whatsoever and just stayed with his mouth agape, looking at the way she was licking and nibbling his balls gently. She was gentle and mindful of hurting him but quick and sloppy as if she was hungry, and it filled him with anticipation. 

By the time she licked up his shaft, she was already drooling, and she looked up to make sure he knew that. She wanted him, to taste him, to drive him wild into coming and giving everything he had.

She took his tip into her mouth and remembered how he liked pressure more than speed, and she got to it immediately. She sucked hard while she bobbed her head in short movements, doing her best to keep that pressure constant. The way he groaned and tightened his grip around her hair melted her and gave her even more energy. His girth was wide enough that her jaw would surely hurt after the fact, but that would not be enough to stop her.

She added her tongue to the mix, flicking it and searching for the place that made him moan the hardest.

She must have done something right because his taste hit her taste buds, and she moaned. He tasted sweet and delicate, and she guessed that if she wanted the full taste, she had to go for it. She was drooling with how much she wanted it, and she didn’t realize how hard she was going on him. Not until he groaned loudly and put one hand on her neck to gently guide her away.

She raised her head with a pop of her lips, keeping his hard dick pointing at her with her hands. Its glistening reddened tip was tempting her, and she couldn’t look away.

“That was close,” he mumbled, and she finally looked up.

He was panting, reaching to wipe the thin coat of sweat off his brow. When he looked down at her, she curled her lips in amusement.

“Why did you stop me? I was having a blast.”

She sounded playful, and he chuckled. “Well, you never told me where to come. Plus,” he moved away from her to reach for something on the bedside table, “you wanted to pleasure yourself.”

She lowered her eyes to his open hand and saw her vibrator.

Her chin dropped in disbelief. “You stopped our fun for that?”

“I want you to feel good.” He smiled sheepishly.

Her eyebrows jumped. “How do you think I’ve been feeling so far?!”

He grinned with a hint of shyness and pride, and she bit her lip down hard so she wouldn’t bite him.

“You said me in your mouth was the thing to make you come… and I don’t want to steal that opportunity from you.”

Her chin dropped in shock, then she shook her head. “You’re unbelievable. We’re taking care of you right now and you’re still worried about me?” She reached for his lips suddenly, and he supported her gently through their kiss. “You can’t be real,” she whispered, nuzzling his nose before going back down on her knees. “You just can’t be.”

He didn’t know what to say, and she didn’t give him the time to think of something.

“You should cum in my mouth,” she told him, grabbing the egg-shaped vibrator. “I need to know how you taste. You can get up and fuck me whenever you want, just please don’t do it too harshly because I gag easily.” She spread her legs a bit so she could accommodate the vibrator. “And if I start coming, do not stop. In fact, I might get sloppy, so take matters into your own hands.” She raised an eyebrow. “Did I forget something?”

“No, ma'am.”

He smiled in a tease, and she pursed her lips before looking down. His cock twitched under her gaze, and she looked back up. He didn’t need to ask for attention, so she guessed it was involuntary, which made it even hotter.

She sighed as she took him inside her mouth again. She did so all the way a few times to show him the limit. He didn’t fit completely in, so despite his groans, she hoped he had paid attention.

Only then did she turn on the vibrator, and she hummed instantly. She was certain she was not going to last. She was so turned on that any nudge in the right direction was enough.

She bucked her hips on the toy and used that same rhythm for her mouth. It was harder to stay focused with the toy, and she started moaning quickly out of the sheer pleasure shooting through her. He had such a good fucking cock that fit in her mouth perfectly and would spray her full of cum soon. He couldn’t help himself; she would blow him just right until he would pop. He knew deep down that he had no choice. He wanted to come for her, to fill her up, he was helpless. If she wanted it, he had to give it to her, and if he tried holding back, she would blow him and ride him until he blew.

Thoughts like those drove her insane, and his dick in her mouth was exactly what brought to life all of her fantasies. In minutes, her whines gained a high pitch, and he knew by now that meant she was right on the verge of her orgasm. Her hand around his base lost grip, and her lips became less taut, allowing for her drool to drip down his shaft, and he knew what to do.

He got up from bed, and she moved with him, allowing him to grab her head and gain complete reign over everything. She let him do it, and in seconds, her orgasm invaded her, making her moan deeply. And he grunted with those sounds because he could reach her throat that much easier, interrupting them with every thrust. It was so fucking hot that he had no problems just leaping after her as soon as he could confidently say her orgasm was done.

She moaned when his cum spurted inside her mouth, and her lips became taut again. She sucked him neatly and swallowed him dry as he did his best to contain his jerking hips. He was still holding onto her hair and head, and her mouth felt so wet and tight he had to take a deep breath, mastering himself until the end.

He sighed as the pleasure dissipated gently, then let her head go. She pulled away and looked up at him with a playful smile.

“You… are fucking great,” she said, licking her lips.

He laughed quietly, and she did the same, grabbing his hands to get up and stand tall. Immediately, he supported her lower back and neck and drew her in for a kiss. His tongue licked and danced with hers, not bothered in the slightest by his taste. 

He pecked her nose, and she sighed. “I could sleep a bit more.”

He smiled. “Me too.”

He let her go just enough for the both of them to get under the sheets again and snuggled her as she hid her face on his chest.

They drifted asleep almost instantly, so it felt like they woke up in the same breath. They were startled by the loud knocking on the door, and she pulled away to blink at him in bewilderment. He raised a quizzical eyebrow, and she creased her brow, completely dumbfounded.

A woman started yelling in Korean, and Angie’s expression became almost comical as she sat up, trying but unable to understand a single word. Namjoon sat up, too.

“Late! Late!”

“I’m coming! One minute!” Angie finally shouted back, and then it quieted down. It had worked, whoever it was left. “What the—”

“She says you’re late, the bride is asking for you.”

She turned to him, then blinked — of course, he understood what the lade shouted. She frowned and searched for her phone. “We just fell asleep a minute ago, how—”

She gasped and jumped off the bed in two seconds. She had many missed calls, and Hyejin had sent her a roll of messages. She played the last voice message.

“Angie! Where are you?! I don’t know if I should be concerned or angry, should I call the police?! I need my bridesmaid! I’m almost done, and you’re not here! I’m going to cry, please don’t disappear on my wedding day!”

“Shit, shit, shit.”

Indeed, it was almost ten in the morning. She turned to Namjoon, who was now getting up with his phone in hand.

“They’re looking for me too.”

“How the heck did my alarm not ring?” Angie groaned.

“It doesn’t matter,” he reminded her, rubbing her arms. “I’ll leave you to get ready and do the same.” She shuddered and nodded. He was so fucking sexy just calming her down like that and focusing her on what mattered. “Will I… see you later?”

She smirked. “If Hyejin doesn’t kill me or kick me out, yes.”

He smiled, turned to look for his clothes, and put them on while she grabbed her phone and tapped to record a voice message.

“I’m so sorry, Hyejin, my alarm didn’t go off. I’m going to shower, and I’ll be there in ten minutes. Stay calm, I love you.”

She sent it and turned to the man in her bedroom. The sight of him back in his suit gave her butterflies, but she swallowed them. She probably shouldn’t have felt that way; she was an adult and knew how those things went. Still, he wasn’t out of the room yet, and she was too tempted. 

So, while he bent over to put his shoes on, she walked up to him and touched his jaw, encouraging him to stand. She kissed him softly, and he stood up by himself, supporting her as he did.

Then she pulled back with a small smile. “I’ll see you soon.”

Namjoon nodded and saw her disappear into the bathroom. He shook his head to get the image of her lean back and perky ass out of his mind and turned to leave. Her shower started just before he closed the door behind him.

He rushed down the corridor and used the stairs to get to his room. He was fast and ignored the people in the corridor, even though the chances of them being any of the guys were high. He needed to get ready quickly. He also didn’t want to stress Hyejin or miss anything. It was a special day for her; he wanted to be there. They were close friends.

He showered and got ready as fast as he could. As he put on his gray blazer, someone hastily knocked on his bedroom door, and he ran to open it.

On the other side, Jin had wide shocked eyes. In fact, six pairs of eyes were gawking at him.

“Hi guys—”

“He’s here!” Jin yelled, despite the others being equally aware.

“He wasn't here before.” Hoseok frowned, confused.

“Where were you?!” Jimin asked with a scoff.

“Were you hiding somewhere, hyung?” Taehyung asked.

They barged into the room as if searching for something, and he had no chance to say anything.

“Where would he hide?” Yoongi whined with a puff. “Let’s just go, the wedding is in thirty minutes.”

“Yeah, I want to catch breakfast.” Jungkook rubbed his hands together.

“We just had breakfast.” Hoseok raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, right. You missed breakfast.” Jin turned to Namjoon and pointed it out with a shrug.

“Well, you know, second breakfast,” Jungkook said slowly.

“What are you, a hobbit?” Jimin laughed, coming from the bathroom with Taehyung. Were they looking for something?

“No, but these things always drag on.” Jungkook pouted.

“That’s very true,” Jin agreed. "We're going to be hungry."

“We’re going to be late,” Yoongi groaned, rubbing his eyes.

“Where were you anyway, hyung?” Jimin asked, seemingly confident he couldn’t find anything suspicious in his room.

“What do you mean, where…” Namjoon rubbed the back of his neck while heading for the door. “Let’s g—”

“Why is your bed still made?”

The room quieted, and everyone turned to look at Taehyung, who was standing beside the bed, eying it suspiciously. They all saw in an instant that he was correct; his bed was perfectly made.

Namjoon scoffed. “What do you mean? I always make the bed when I wake up.”

“That’s true,” Jungkook murmured, and Yoongi nodded.

“But this perfectly?” Taehyung insisted.

Jimin jumped on the bed and raised something above his head with a victorious chant, “Ah! The chocolate is still under his pillow!”

Everyone then turned to Namjoon to complain.

“It would have melted.”

“What melted, it would have fallen.”

“You should have eaten it.”

“No one leaves the chocolate there.”

“The bed is too perfect, just me jumping on it made more of a mark than your sleep.”

“If you were here before, why didn’t you respond when we came to call you for breakfast?”

“And why did you not answer your phone?” Jimin added, remembering it suddenly.

The room quieted for a few seconds, and most eyes fell on Namjoon, who frowned in confusion. 

Thankfully, Jungkook rubbed his chin and tried, “Maybe he was in the shower…”

“For an hour?” Taehyung scoffed.

“His hair is wet right now, you just showered, right?” Jin smirked playfully.

Jin’s question was the last straw. Namjoon just sighed, turned, and walked out the door.

“We’re going to be late.”

The guys scurried after him, with Taehyung closing the door behind them all before yelling across the corridor, “Where did you sleep?!”

Namjoon’s eyes widened for a second out of sheer embarrassment before he groaned and turned to go down the stairs with the other six trailing him. He could not be stuck with them in an elevator right now, and he needed to burn the energy the stress was causing.

It’s not like he couldn’t tell them, he thought as they exited the staircase towards the lobby. He quickly rushed to the balcony of the hotel that led to the back garden where the wedding ceremony would take place. There, fortunately, the class and formality of the event quieted the others down. He hoped it would distract them enough as he walked quietly to the beverages table to get a coffee. 

He could tell them, but he wondered if it was correct. He didn’t kiss and tell; that would be rude of him. Additionally, she would be at the party, and if they met her, it could be weird if they knew. What if they said stupid things or insinuated something? He would die of embarrassment, not to mention that he wanted to see her again. 

I’ll see you soon.

He blushed, but it wasn’t from the hot coffee. He wanted to see her again.

“Seriously, hyung.” He turned, and Taehyung was there, reaching to grab a coffee, too. “I won’t tell anyone, but the curiosity is killing me.”

Namjoon licked his lips and looked around them. There were definitely too many people there, so he started walking away as if nonchalantly wanting to walk the gardens. Taehyung followed him.

“Hyung! Trust me, I just—”

“I wasn’t in my room, alright?” Namjoon turned suddenly, almost spilling both their drinks, but Taehyung stopped in his tracks before they could clash.

Taehyung grinned widely. “Ah, I knew it!” He was so giddy he would be jumping right now if it weren’t for the drink. “Who is she? We saw you with a girl yesterday, you guys were talking.” Namjoon groaned and pressed his temples. The lack of sleep was making his head hurt. “Is it her?”

“Excuse me.”

Both men turned, one with panicked eyes, the other with a pout.

“We’re rounding up everyone for the ceremony to start,” the lady told them politely with a bow.

Namjoon bowed back and took the opportunity to drag Taehyung along. “Not a word of this. I’ll tell you, but not now. Please, let’s keep it quiet.”

He gave him a pleading look, and Taehyung smiled. “Not a word, hyung. You can trust me.”

They went straight to their seats in the second row on the bride’s side. Most people were already there and waiting.

“Where were you?” Jin whispered in a scolding tone.

“Coffee,” Taehyung answered sheepishly, sipping on his paper cup. Jimin eyed him suspiciously, but Taehyung had the most angelical expression.

However, Namjoon was unaware of this because his eyes were avidly searching for someone. And luckily for him, he didn’t have to wait long. Music started to play, and people started making their way down the aisle. He nodded at the groom and some groomsmen he knew. Everyone bowed when the groom's parents passed, then the bride's mother. And finally, there was someone who passed and stole his breath away.

Angie was wearing a dark blue dress that delineated her curves beautifully. Her blonde hair was falling on her right shoulder in delicate waves, and her cleavage was deep, though not too flashy. She was smiling the whole time, and the corners of her lips quirked when her eyes finally fell on him. He had no idea what kind of face he was making, but only when she passed by him did he blink and break the spell. 

Hyejin was stunning and nearly crying with happiness as she walked by her friends and family, and Namjoon teared up at the sight of her. He glanced to check on the others, and everyone was smiling the same way. Only Yoongi looked down for a moment while Hyejin was left by her dad to her fiancé at the altar. 

The ceremony was beautiful and everyone cheered and whistled when they finally kissed as husband and wife. The tables for lunch were set on the other side of the garden, and everyone made their way there after meeting the bride and groom to congratulate them.

As people standing up front, BTS was among the first to approach them. Namjoon was behind Yoongi in line, who seemed to want to avoid the moment, but Namjoon wasn’t having it. He knew Yoongi hated feelings, but it was an important moment for Hyejin and—

“You look beautiful.” Namjoon heard Yoongi tell the bride quietly. 

Namjoon thought it was weird that was all Yoongi said instead of congratulations and lots of happiness on your marriage. His eyebrows jumped at how Yoongi and Hyejin stared into each other’s eyes, and he looked away quickly. Whatever story they might or not once had just ended, and he felt for Yoongi. Namjoon knew Yoongi would never say anything, no matter the words that crossed his mind right now. 

He looked up in time to see Yoongi’s pressed lips as he walked away, and then Hyejin’s eyes filled with tears. Namjoon stepped in quickly to hug her and hide her from the world, and she took the opportunity instantly.

“It’s okay,” he whispered against her head, kissing it. She was grabbing him for dear life. “You look stunning, like the brightest of stars, the most perfect flower.” She sobbed once in his chest, and he kissed her head again. “We’re all happy for you. We support you no matter what.”

Finally, she chuckled and pulled away, cleaning her tears quickly. “Yeah.” She swallowed everything down. “I’m just emotional today.”

He nodded, reached for her hand, and then kissed it. “We love you, don’t forget that.”

Hyejin smiled, but her lips trembled. Namjoon was ready to move along, but Hyejin tightened her grip on his hand and pulled him to lean in. “I’ll say this quickly before I lose the chance to. You and Angie are my closest friends. You guys are a match made in heaven. Don’t hurt her.” He pulled away with wide eyes, and she smirked. “Don’t worry, I told her the exact same thing.”

She squeezed his hand and then let it go. He pressed his lips as he processed all those emotions and walked away to join the rest of the members at their lunch table. 

The party dragged on, and by the time everyone was celebrating and having lunch together, the seat to the right of Namjoon and the left of Jungkook was still empty.

“Who the hell is ‘Angie’ anyway?” Jungkook read with a stutter.

Namjoon pressed his lips as they all dug into the food. He wasn’t sure how to answer that—

“Hi again.”

All seven men stopped eating to see the woman dragging the chair to sit down. She smiled at them with individual nods, smiling a little wider to Jungkook as she sat beside him. Namjoon pressed his lips at this; he wasn’t sure how to take that smile—

“Did you have any trouble making it in time?” she leaned in to ask in Namjoon’s ear, and he immediately felt a blush spread on his cheeks.

“No, I was fine,” he whispered back in English, trying not to combust. Fortunately, none of the others could understand them. “You?”

Angie huffed as she got ready to taste the appetizer. Hyejin almost bit my head off.” She hummed at how good it was and then smiled. I hope you don’t mind; I had to tell her.” She looked worried as she waited for his reaction. “It was a survival instinct.”

He grinned. “I understand. She sounded… authoritarian when she, uh… commented about it.”

Angie’s eyes widened. “Oh no… Did she…?” He nodded and Angie sighed. “I'm so sorry. Damn it, I didn’t imagine she would bother you about it.”

He chuckled. “She told you the exact same she told me.” Angie tried eating a bite as she pondered on what to say. “She seems rather protective of us.”

“She does, doesn’t she?”

They were interrupted when celebrations started with people giving speeches and making toasts, and Angie stayed quiet. Despite being a bridesmaid, Hyejin knew why she didn’t want to do a speech — she didn’t speak Korean. She was there to support her best friend, but she knew she wouldn’t really partake in the party.

Namjoon was sweet and translated most of what was happening so she wouldn’t feel left out, and she was thankful. She could sense the other guys’ eyes on her, so she decided to become even more invisible so as not to ruin the party for them.

She lost track of time. They were waiting for dessert when the man on her right side drew her attention.

“Who… are you?”

His English was probably not good, but she smiled. “I’m Angie,” she answered, bowing shortly.

“I’m Jungkook,” he answered, with a hand on his chest. “Who…” He looked over at Namjoon and she opened her mouth, then closed it.

Her Korean was truly rudimentary, but she tried to remember it. She knew the word for friend, but she was stomped on how to explain—

“You can say it, I’ll translate,” Namjoon offered with a smile.

“I don’t want to bother you,” she answered with a pained smile.

“It’s fine.” 

His eyes didn’t stay on her like she hoped they would, and she tried not to feel discouraged. 

“I’m Hyejin’s friend. We were roommates for six years in college, so we became pretty close.”

He translated it, and all the guys hummed. Another one asked something.

“Jimin asks if you’re also a physician.”

“No, I’m a physicist.” She smiled, then chuckled at their confusion. “Close, but not quite the same.”

She asked about them and was surprised to find they were all singers and idols. They were all very good-looking, but then again, so was everyone in Hyejin’s entourage. It made sense because her father and now husband worked in the music industry, but it was always shocking to meet someone seemingly normal but who was truly so rich and famous.

Which reminded her of who she had slept with last night. She kept chatting with them while she considered this in the back of her mind. Namjoon was so great, it was hard to believe, but then again, not really. He was smart, sensible, polite, hot, and a good lover. She almost scoffed in disbelief, how was he still single? But he had to be — Namjoon didn’t say anything, and Hyejin would have when Angie told her they had spent the night together. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your names.” She smiled. “Jungkook.” She pointed at the man on her right, who smiled.

One by one, they presented each other, and she tried not to give it away, but her eyes fell back on Yoongi. So that was the Yoongi. She didn’t mean this musically, of course, she didn’t know anything about that.

They chatted, and when the party progressed and they got up to get drinks, she smiled and let them go. She was surprised when Namjoon came back with a flute of champagne for her.

“Thank you.”

He nodded with a smile and sat back down.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah,” he answered, sipping on his wine.

“Do you know anything about Hyejin and that guy, Yoongi?”

Namjoon raised his eyebrows. “Well… I mean, I know something but…”

She leaned toward him and whispered, “Will you tell me? It’s a big mystery to me. It’s the only guy she ever spoke about in college.” Namjoon raised his eyebrows. “She clearly liked him, but when she came back here, I guess she chose someone else. It always confused me.” 

Namjoon looked down and nodded as Angie smiled at Hyejin dancing with her dad.

“This is a secret, I think I’m the only one of the guys who knows,” he started, and she zipped her lips closed.

“My lips are sealed. You and I are the only ones who know about this.”

He nodded. “We grew up together, she’s Jungkook’s age.” He eyed Angie, suddenly realizing that she was also Jungkook’s age. She raised her eyebrows questioningly, and he shook his head. “Yeah, so I have known her the longest since I was the first to join the company, and she reminded me of my younger sister, so we became close. Then Yoongi joined, and she was love-struck. She was only fourteen, but she crushed on him hard. For years, she hung out with all of us, but she was head over heels for him.”

Angie chuckled. “You mean getting all quiet and red around him?” He nodded. “I’ve seen that, but only in passing. She dated in college, but it was never serious. She was always hung up on someone from here,” Angie continued with a sad shrug. “One time, she got drunk and whined about the ‘cream’ incident.”

Namjoon was shocked. “You know about that?” She nodded. “You have to tell me!” Her eyebrows jumped. “No one knows what happened. Yoongi never said anything. It’s probably the only secret they both kept from us. Or at least from me.”

She eyed him with squinted eyes. “Hmm, can you be trusted with such sensitive information?”

His jaw dropped, and then he sat up straight. “I thought we were sharing secrets…”

She grinned. “We are… You’ll keep it a secret?”

“I’ll take it with me to my grave.” He promised with a hand over his chest, then his eyebrows puckered. He had said that before.

“It’s silly, really. Basically, when she was eighteen, before she came to the US, she found Yoongi in the kitchen with a can of whipped cream. I think they played for it or something, but it basically exploded on them and covered them up. She was really worried about upsetting him, so she tried to clean him up, and I think things got heated. She might have removed her shirt or his, I don’t remember, but I do know that he grabbed her by the shoulders and firmly pushed her to stand away, then he ran off.” Her smile vanished as she remembered Hyejin telling her this. “She regretted never confronting him about it or telling him how she felt.” Namjoon stayed quiet. “She saw that as a rejection but never had the guts to confirm it.”

“We never knew about that. We only ever saw them covered in cream, and they both refused to say anything about it. We even thought they were dating, but they both denied it.”

“I don’t think they ever dated,” Angie commented, glancing at Yoongi sipping on a drink at the bar. “Otherwise, she would be marrying him.”

Namjoon nodded with a degree of sorrow. “I agree… I never saw anything that made me believe he might have feelings for her until today. I think he’s suffering in his own way.”

She sighed after they stayed quiet for a while. “That’s so sad… She’s the one that got away…”

“So is he…”

“But why? I mean, they’re both adults.” She frowned, turning to look at Namjoon. “Why did she not go for it when she came back? Was he dating someone else?”

Namjoon attempted to smile. “No, he wasn’t. He still isn’t.”

Her eyebrows jumped. “Wow, then why? Hyejin knows better than to suck it up—”

“He’s an idol.”

“So?”

He pressed his lips and looked down. “It’s just too complicated. They’d never have a normal relationship, and it would be a lot of pressure for her.” He raised his eyes and wished it wasn’t hurting him that much to say those things. “She probably never asked because he would have to say no. Even if he wanted to say yes.”

Angie paled as one of her eyebrows lowered in subtle disagreement. She could understand what he was trying to say, but she refused to buy it.

“I’m sorry, but that’s bullshit.” Her tone was soft. “Look at him, do you think it was worth it? We talked about how success turns into emptiness. I told you that not all sacrifices are worth it, and I’m not a renowned billionaire star.” She paused. She was frowning despite not wanting to be harsh. She just utterly refused that notion. “If it’s like this for me, I can’t imagine how it is for him.” She looked at Yoongi and then at Hyejin, then swallowed dryly and squared her shoulders. “I hope no one else goes through the same thing.”

She dragged her chair and got up, and he stuttered to say something but was too late to stop her. He saw her walk away, disappearing between all the people, and felt powerless. What could he say? Maybe she was right. Having seen Yoongi and Hyejin grow up together, he surely would have wished it was them getting married today. In a parallel universe, maybe they were. And it was sad to think Yoongi was not as happy as he could have been, but—

“She’s pretty.”

Namjoon turned to see Yoongi sitting on Jin’s spot to his left. Namjoon raked his fingers through his hair and nodded. There was nothing to say other than agree.

“And she seems interesting, too,” Yoongi mused quietly. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t have spent hours talking to her like no one else exists.”

Namjoon pressed his lips, unsure of what to say. “When did I?”

“Last night,” Yoongi answered. “And today, but you said something that upset her.”

Namjoon huffed and rubbed his face. What the hell was happening with him lately?

“We were discussing you, actually,” he admitted, eying his hyung.

“Me?”

“Yes. And Hyejin.”

Yoongi held his eyes, then looked down at his drink, and Namjoon reached for his. He wouldn’t say more than that; they were discussing secrets, after all.

���I love her.”

Namjoon almost choked, and Yoongi scoffed.

“Don’t act like you didn’t know. You were probably the only one who ever noticed.”

Namjoon nodded slowly. “How are you?”

“Miserable,” he answered with a smile, then downed his drink. “I’m burying my heart today.”

Namjoon grimaced but didn’t know what to say. He still tried, “Things could have been different.” Yoongi scoffed and pushed his empty glass away. “Do you regret it?”

Yoongi heaved a deep breath. “I always wanted to be successful. To have a legion of fans. To have money and comfort. To be recognized for the genius I am.” Namjoon hid his smile with his glass. “Losing her… is my only regret.”

Yoongi’s eyes were intense and had a pain contained in them that made Namjoon instantly worried. He didn’t remember ever seeing Yoongi like that, though it was true that Yoongi was the most reserved of them all, especially emotionally.

“So be confident,” Yoongi told him with half a smile. “Whatever you feel or want to do, be confident. You can do it.”

“Guys, you’re not dancing!” Taehyung neared them with the rest of the gang.

“I’m not dancing.” Yoongi scoffed.

“Me neither,” Namjoon agreed with a forced smile.

Angie returned to the table and sat in her spot after giving them all a small smile. The guys restarted chatting, but Namjoon couldn’t pay attention. He hadn’t turned to see or talk to her, but her quiet presence there burned him. There were things left unsaid between them; he just didn’t know what he could say.

“You have something on your neck.”

He frowned at the male voice speaking in English and turned back — as all of them did, in fact — only to see someone familiar talking to Angie.

Jin tried to call him, “Taesun!” 

But he was dismissed quickly with a nod. Jungkook muttered something about Taesun being in his spot, and Taehyung agreed quietly.

“What does he want?”

Namjoon let out a deep breath. He knew exactly what Taesun wanted. Hyejin had asked him to make sure her brother wouldn’t harass Angie, so Namjoon should have expected him to try something.

“Taesun—”

“I’ll be with you guys in a minute, okay?” He gave them a half-caustic smile before turning back to Angie in English. “Did you notice? Right here.”

He meant to touch the skin where her shoulder met her neck, but she backed away to dodge his hand with a frown. By doing this, she almost bumped into Namjoon, who gently caught her shoulders. She felt supported by his touch, but that was her fight, and she shouldn’t bother him.

“Sorry.” She bowed quietly without looking at Namjoon before turning to Taesun. “Yes, I know.” Her tone was dry, as if she was being bothered, which she was. 

Taesun smiled, maybe choosing not to see it. “Did you hit it somewhere by accident or something?”

Her lips curved. “No, I’m pretty sure it was intentional.”

Namjoon had decided to turn halfway toward his bandmates, who were listening to the conversation unapologetically despite not understanding it entirely. He couldn’t help a smile at the snarky tone of her voice, and he hid it under his hand.

“Will you dance with me?”

Namjoon’s lips pressed at the wanton tone of Taesun’s voice, and he closed his eyes. After the last words between him and Angie, he would understand it if—

“I’m sorry, I really can’t.” Namjoon’s eyes snapped open and landed on her, unable to hide his interest. “You see, I hit more places than my neck last night, so moving would be really uncomfortable.”

Namjoon’s hand stayed over his face, but anyone could tell he looked concerned. Did he hurt her somehow?

Yet Taesun chuckled and shook his head. “I got it, I got it. It’s a pity, but maybe you’ll change your mind later.”

Her lips curved in a polite smile, but she turned away quickly to grab her drink and dismiss him. The others might not have understood a word, but body language and tone of voice spoke volumes. Once Taesun got up, Jungkook immediately sat in his rightful place beside Angie, and Taehyung followed him. They both leaned in worriedly and quietly asked her if she was okay. Taesun was married, and his attitude was distasteful.

Jin and Hoseok immediately bit the bullet and jumped at the opportunity to distract him. 

Yoongi supported his head on his hand when he asked quite loudly, “How’s your wife doing?”

Taesun only gave him half a smile before excusing himself.

“How can Hyejin have the same blood as him,” Hoseok wondered aloud.

“I need another drink,” Yoongi said, getting up.

The others decided to follow him when they eyed Namjoon, who was staring at the table before him while trying to decide something himself. He didn’t show intention to follow them, and Taehyung smacked Jungkook’s shoulder amicably so the youngster would be reassured that leaving him there was okay.

As soon as they were gone, Namjoon reached for Angie’s hand on her lap, and she turned to him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she assured him with a smile.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No.”

“But you just said you’re uncomfortable moving.”

He was fully leaning into her now, fixed on her glistening eyes and quite alienated from the rest of the party.

“Yeah, I would be. With him,” she underlined with clear aversion before her features softened. “I would be comfortable with you, however.”

He smiled, and it reached his heart. His dimples framed his happiness.

Still, he shook his head. “I can’t. Too many eyes.”

“It’s just a dance.” Her smile was fading as she understood what was happening.

“I doubt I could keep my hands off you.” His mouth spoke faster than it should have, but it was truthful. He was nothing but himself, he was confident.

“I wouldn’t want you to.”

Their eyes locked as they let the silence surround them. His hand was still holding hers on her lap; he was definitely too close to her. It would be obvious to any bystander, and life… He only had the one.

“When are you leaving?”

“The day after tomorrow.”

He nodded with a sad smile; he only could have hoped. “Would you… have time to be with me?”

He caressed her hand before he looked into her eyes.

She grinned. “Hyejin is leaving on her honeymoon tomorrow. I have all the time in the world until Monday.”

He nodded. “Then stay with me.”

Next Part >

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Hello dearest kitty, I'm here begging on my knees for some fluff

Okay okay I'll stop, but it was a funny start especially after your least post, but I really love your writing and I would love to see you write some sub villain X dom hero fluff, about self care and maybe a little bit on self harm cuz I have exams and this is my comfort trope.

But regardless if you write it or not I want you to know that I really appreciate all your work and I it makes such a huge difference in my life, you're one of the people I can look at and be happy 😁💖

tw mention of self-harm

“This is…nice.” The villain frowned and hugged their own legs, almost as if they had never been in a bathtub before. Still tired, they leaned against the tiles of the bathroom wall. All the hero could focus on were their lashes when they closed their eyes.

Admittedly, the hero hadn’t considered this to be the result. They hadn’t expected to end up in bed with their nemesis. It would have been easier if this was part of a mission, they reckoned. But fate was much crueler.

Now feelings were involved. Complicated, difficult feelings. Sometimes they didn’t know if they should blame themselves or the villain. After all, the villain was devoted and passionate. They were tactical and brilliant.

And they were also pretty. Ridiculously pretty.

The hero swallowed.

Why was this happening to them out of all people?

“I don’t think anyone has ever made that kind of effort for me,” the villain said. They smiled and the hero’s heart dropped.

“You mean letting in some water?”

“Well, yeah…and the breakfast. The soft kisses. The massages, you know?” The villain looked at the hero again. “No one has ever done that for me.”

For the hero’s taste, they were too far away from each other. Even though the bathtub wasn’t the biggest, the hero didn’t want to sit on opposite ends. They worried their bottom lip between their teeth.

“Can you come closer?” they asked and the villain nodded, obeying quickly.

The hero let out a shaky breath they didn’t even know they were holding once the villain sat down on their hips. At this point, it was like a drug. The hero craved this affection and these hands on their skin.

It wasn’t just pleasure, it was something more vile. Something that could bleed and die, something that could destroy the hero within seconds.

A few hours ago, they hadn’t realised it. Not really. But now that they knew they weren’t just attracted to the villain, they needed to control themselves.

“You know you deserve it, right?” they asked. The villain didn’t meet their eyes, though. “You deserve nice things.”

“Is this a separating-work-and-personal-life-thing? Because we both know I’ve done despicable things in the past.” The villain looked ashamed. They let their thumb run along the hero’s biceps, almost as if they could distract themselves that way.

“No. I like you the way you are. Even the parts you deem ugly.” The hero touched the scars the villain had tried to hide yesterday gently. They couldn’t stop looking at their nemesis. At their perfect face, their perfect body. The hero wasn’t sure why their melancholy was taking over the now.

Yesterday, they’d been laughing and kissing. They’d never had that much fun in quite a while. But now, responsibility weighed heavy on their shoulders again and they couldn’t bear the feeling of saying goodbye in a few hours.

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“Have I ever been dishonest with you?” the hero asked. Brilliance wasn’t a gift. It was the result of hard work and the hero could appreciate and respect that the villain had been working just as much as they had. Both were the same in that aspect, destroying themselves because that seemed to be logical: working until you had results. No failing, no mistakes. 100%. All the time.

The villain smiled softly. Maybe even sadly.

“When you told me you love me yesterday?” they asked quietly but the hero already shook their head.

“No, that wasn’t a lie.” Their finger traced one of the villain’s scars. Somehow, the bathwater was getting hotter and hotter. The hero closed their eyes as they tried to calm down. “You’re lovely.”

It was only natural, wasn’t it? To be attracted to someone who challenged, yet matched them in so many ways? God, the hero was really at the end of their rope.

“Hm. You know, under all these layers—” the villain touched their chest “—of calculated and raw reason—” they drew a heart with their finger into the hero’s skin “—there’s a very gentle soul inside you.”

“Is that criticism or a compliment?” the hero asked. Again, looking at the villain made their stomach turn. In a good way. Kind of.

Their nemesis smiled.

“Just an observation,” the villain said. They leaned forward and kissed the hero’s cheek. “Thank you for taking care of me. I kinda suck at it.”

The hero’s hand was still on the villain’s scars.

“You just need a little bit of help, that’s all. Everyone does.” The villain was still so close. If the hero moved their head a little, they’d be kissing.

Hell, why was their heart beating so fast?

“Do you think I could be better?” the villain asked. “Do you think I could change?”

“Change is inevitable,” the hero explained. “But I…I got you.”

They held onto the villain a little tighter this time and honestly, they knew why their heart ached when they brought them home.

[seresinhangmanjake]

Daddy Knows Best

Dad!Jake “Hangman” Seresin x female reader

Summary: Jake is very much against having his daughter in daycare, but his baby saying her first word might just make it a little better. (sorry to those of you who read the title and thought this would be smut 😁)

Notes: Suggested by a couple of people. / Part of the Oh, Baby Universe.

**This is a jump forward; Eve is nine months old. It's not the next part in the main series or anything. There's technically still a lot more to happen there first before the events of this fic. It's just a little add on**

Warnings: none, I think. 

Words: 1200

---

Jake hated dropping his little girl off at daycare. Hated. It. But after you went back to work at the bar four days a week, there’d been no other choice. The schedules didn’t allow it. For those four days, you got home at three a.m. and he was up at the crack of dawn. He got done with work at four, and you were off for your shift at six. It was complicated. It required some difficult rearranging of the perfect system you’d developed during the first months of your little family coming together. 

But Jake could accept that part. He could accept that Eve was getting a bit older and you wanted to go back to work. You wanted your independence and asked for Jake's support and he gave it. The daycare element, though, despite you mentioning it in the past, was the one piece he still struggled with. He couldn’t stand leaving Eve to mingle with germy rugrats and strange adults. In a room full of toddlers whining for attention, it was impossible for his daughter to be a priority to the women who worked at the center, and as far as Jake was concerned, that was unacceptable. He’d never speak it aloud, but his girl was the princess among those tiny commoners, and that was that. How you had no issue with letting her in such an environment he refused to understand.

Every morning it was a debate in his head as he took Eve from her car seat and walked her to the door of the daycare. Should he take her and run back to his truck? Decide to introduce the concept of ‘bring your daughter to work day’ to his superiors and team? He created a lot of possibilities, but then he’d remember that you would arrive to pick her up at two and he'd face an inevitable scolding if you found out she was never dropped off. 

He really didn’t want to upset you. You didn’t let him so much as kiss you when you were irritated with him and that was not his idea of a good time. But even having that motivation in the back of his mind didn’t ease the pain of letting Eve go. If she would just give him a sign, something to prove she wanted to stay with him that he could relay back to you, he’d feel significantly better when arguing his case.

But no such luck. 

—

"Baby girl, you don't want to go to daycare, do you?" 

Jake shook his head in answer for his daughter. He didn't care that she didn't understand him—that she could only stare up at him with her big green eyes—he knew what was best for her and daycare wasn't it. Plain and simple. He had no alternative solution to present, but he figured that was a problem best saved for later. 

"No, you don't," he continued as he carried her through the front door of the building. "You want to stay with Daddy. I've told your Mama but she refuses to listen. And I love her, baby girl, you know I do, but she can be so stubborn."

Walking down the cream-colored hallway toward the third door on the left, Jake heard the noises of small children babbling. But they were quickly drowned out by a shrill shriek of excitement once he stepped into the room.

"There's our favorite girl!" the source of the ear-splitting sound said.

Jake frowned. Eve was his girl. His and yours. 

She cuddled closer to him as a young woman jogged over and reached out to try to pull the girl from his arms. When Eve made no move to wiggle free from her father, the woman made a pretend face of disappointment. 

She put her hands on her hips. "Now, Evie—"

Evie? Jake's brow furrowed. When the fuck did his daughter's name change?

"Don't you want to play with your friends?"

Jake glanced at Eve. Like the many similar features of their faces, they shared matching frowns, hers just a tad more pouty from the fuller lips you'd passed down.

"Someone's a bit grumpy this morning," the woman teased, poking at the girl's little arm. "Did we not get a good night's sleep?"

"She slept just fine," Jake said.

The woman looked up at him and blushed under his stony stare. 

"Of course," she replied, bubbly nature still intact. "Well, we're going to have a fun day together, sweetheart." Her hands reached towards him again. "Ready?"

Eve's eyes peered up at Jake and he sighed, shoulders sagging. "Alright, baby girl. Daddy's gotta go now."

She made a little noise that he swore was in protest, but he handed her over nonetheless. Each day he approached it like ripping off a band-aid—an industrial strength band-aid. Quick and, well…extremely painful. But even after months, it was the only way he knew how to do it. 

Reluctantly, Jake gave a wave and turned for the exit. 

"Say goodbye to Dada," he heard. 

Then, "Da–Da."

He stopped in his tracks, bracing himself with a hand on the frame of the door. 

"Oh, how sweet!" the woman squealed as Jake whipped around.

He paused for a moment, replaying in his head what he thought he heard, but when he decided he wasn't in need of a hearing check, he chuckled and walked back over. 

"Ok, give her back," he ordered despite the smile on his face.

"Wha–"

Eve was pulled away and returned to her father's arms before the woman could finish. 

"What did you just say? Did you say Daddy?" He asked as he bounced her once on his hip.

"Da–Da," she repeated, clear and loud and completely unmistakable in her beautiful little voice.

"Oh my god." He kissed her on her forehead and ran his knuckle down her plush cheek. "You are so perfect, baby girl. Do you want to stay with me?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Jake could see the woman start to fidget where she stood. "Um, Mr. Seresin, your wife said that if Eve isn't in daycare to call her. Should we—"

"I'll take care of it," he said, refusing to take his eyes off his daughter. "Have a good day."

He hurried out of the building to his truck and strapped Eve in her car seat. She stared up at him as he worked on cinching the belt just right. 

"Don't look at me like that, baby girl. Mama will forgive Daddy…I think," he said. "Either way, she's going to be so proud of you when we tell her."

He hopped in the front seat and as he started up the truck, he was hit with the realization that, one, he was about to wake his very exhausted wife, and two, he was still expected to work for a living.

"Daddy's gonna have to come up with an excuse to miss work today, too," he mumbled to himself and shifted the gear in reverse. "That'll be fun." 

But he didn’t care. He had to tell you what happened, and there was no way he was taking his baby girl back to daycare.

[imagineanime2022]

Heroes W/ An S/O W/ A Talking Cat

Keigo Takami (Hawks) X Reader, Taishiro Toyomitsu (Fatgum) X Reader, Shota Aizawa (Eraserhead) X Reader, Yamada Hizashi (Present Mic) X Reader

Requested: Anon

Request: Hi 👋, I read your story about the Lov with s/o who has a talking cat while I was reading it. I was thinking how funny it would be if it was the pro heroes instead of the villain like Mr. Aizawa, or hawks, or any other pro hero with S/O’s talking cat I think that would be hilarious?😂 AND Hello I really love your work it’s amazing😁 I love your post about the LOV with a witch S/O who has a pet talking cat I wanted to ask if there was one for the pro heroes like Aizawa, Mirko, Fat gum or even Hawks I think that would’ve been hilarious to know what their reactions would be like to S/O’s talking cat?😂

Keigo Takami/ Hawks

🪶 Keigo found out because he was teasing him, you had warned him not to but he didn’t listen, lucky for you instead of lashing out. Your cat decided to tell him off themselves. 🪶 It only took a little while before they both started to tease each other, Keigo scaring your cat half to death and your cat taking every opportunity to jump on Keigo or swipe at his feet. 🪶 You could come home to a disaster zone if Keigo got home before you, which was not often but when it did happen you honestly dreaded it. 🪶 You literally could not trust them to do anything, they were proud creatures and often tried to show you how much better they were then the other and that lead to even more problems.

You had been in the shower, you had only left them for 15 minutes and as you walked out of the bathroom when you heard a crash, you ran into the living room with nothing but a towel wrapped around your body “woah hello there beautiful.” Keigo smirked as he looked away from (Y/C/N) across the room. “Gross, that is my parent.!” (Y/C/N) continued. “Well they’re my partner so cover your ears if you don’t wanna hear it!” Keigo ordered. “What the hell is going on?” You asked, arms crossed as you looked between the two of you. “Nothing that you need to worry your pretty little head about, I’m just proving that he couldn’t catch me if he tried.” Keigo smirked as he looked back at the cat. “He has caught you before… Many times.” You reminded him. “Told you!” (Y/C/N) cheered. “Ah yes but that is swiftly followed by my own attack.” Keigo said. “Almost as if I were expecting it.” “Can you both just behave yourself for 10 minutes while I get changed?” You asked. “Ask him, he’s the one that starts it.” (Y/C/N) turned his back to Keigo and you narrowed your eyes as you saw the feathers moving towards the unknowing feline. “Stop.” “Fine fine, I’ll just come with you.” He wriggled his eyebrows as you rolled your eyes, turning away from him. “You're gross.” (Y/C/N) muttered as he disappeared into the kitchen. You turned away to walk back into the bedroom and get changed as Keigo followed. “You can’t expect me to behave myself without a reward.” Keigo followed you into the room catching you before you would walk towards the draws that housed all of you pajamas. “Will you ever learn to behave yourself?” You asked. “You don’t want that.” He teased, pressing a kiss to your jaw slowly coaxing you into something other than getting dressed.

Taishiro Toyomitsu/ Fatgum

🍡 Fatgum didn’t realise that there was anything different about your cat in fact it probably could have stayed that way for a very long time. 🍡 They got along well whenever he was eating something he shared with you little companion and scolded you when you told the little one that they had enough. You at one point were sure that the little guy was putting on weight. 🍡 They loved cuddling up together and you would often find them in bed or on the sofa, he found out about him talking when he walked in on the two of you arguing about stealing your boyfriend. 🍡 From there he treated him more like a child then a pet, scolding him and playing with him and still feeding him more than he needed.

You sighed as you walked into the house, smiling as you heard Taishiro talking in the other room, you knew that he was talking to (Y/C/N), you walked into the room raising an eyebrow as you watched the two “if I give you an extra dinner you can’t tell mum, she’s going to kill me!” Taishiro muttered, hunched over the cat that was looking at him with pleading eyes. “I never tell her.” (Y/C/N) answered and you narrowed your eyes, they both got up, it took longer for your cat to notice you than your boyfriend (who stopped dead in his tracks) because of the sofa obscuring the little one’s vision. “Extra dinners?” You asked. “Really?” “He said he was starving.” Taishiro said. “He always says that he’s starving, I took him for a check up, he’s almost overweight!” You complained. “Alright… I’ll stop.” Taishiro said. “You promised me that before and look what happened…” You crossed your arms over your chest and turned away from them. (Y/C/N) was the first to come over rubbing against your ankle, you glanced down at him and he looked up at you. “I know that this diet is hard but once we get you back to a healthy weight, you can have your treats back as a reward.” You reached down, tickling his chin. “This is stupid.” (Y/C/N) grumbled and you nodded. “Uh huh, so no extra dinner for you and you.” You pointed at Taishiro across the room who was looking as guilty as ever. “No sweets for the rest of the night.” “Yes ma’am.” He nodded as he walked over, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “I’m leaving you alone for 20 minutes while I shower and get changed but if you do anything I’ll be able to smell the guilt on you.” You warned them. “Humans can’t smell guilt.” (Y/C/N) said. “Test me.” You goaded him before disappearing into the bedroom and further into the bathroom.

Shota Aizawa/ Eraserhead

🐛 You didn’t even tell this man that your cat could talk, he just started talking to them one day and of course your feline friend spoke back, he literally did not bat an eyelid. 🐛 Laziest creatures in your life, they will collectively convince you to do nothing… Unless it’s food time, if it’s food time then the cat is no ally to anyone. 🐛 Most would think that Aizawa was the one who owned the cat because it was constantly trailing after him and complimenting him on everything that he did with the odd sassy comment when they didn’t agree on something, honestly some would say that he stole your cat. 🐛 You're sure that they miss each other more than they ever miss you and sometimes you're dramatic about it but rest assured you are the most important person in either one of their lives.

You walked through the front door kicking off your shoes, you dropped your bag to the floor before walking into the living room “you took your time.” Aizawa said as he looked up at you from his reclined position on the sofa. “Hello to you too.” You smiled as you leaned down and pressed a kiss to his cheek, he smiled quickly catching your lips in a soft kiss. “Hey hey! What about me!?” You giggled at the voice before turning to the black cat it belonged to curled up on Aizawa’s chest cradling his face in your hands as you pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “Have you both been here the whole day?” You asked. “No.” Aizawa answered. “I had classes to teach today.” “So you’ve been like this since 3pm?” You asked. “I guess.” Aizawa answered. “Did you at least feed him?” You asked. “You know those biscuits are a complete diet right, there are some cats that would settle for just them.” Aizawa mumbled. “Yeah well I’m not one of them.” (Y/C/N) said as he stood his front legs stretched out in front of him as he stretched and you rolled your eyes walking into the kitchen and putting the meat down for him before walking back into the living room, Aizawa reached out a hand pulling you to lay with him when you were close enough. “Are you sure this is a good idea Shota?” You asked as you glance towards the entrance the loud feline would appear in when he was finished. “Mmm it’s fine.” He answered half heartedly as he continued to wrap you tighter in his arms, not 5 minutes later did you hear what you expected. “You two just cast me out after 5 minutes, you know I was coming back right?” He asked as hopped up on the sofa walking over your intertwined legs before finally settling on your back, you hummed as you shifted slightly to get more comfortable, you knew that you should all move, the bed was definitely more comfortable but staying here with the two most important beings in your life for some reason was more appealing so you didn’t move for now this would be fine.

Yamada Hizashi/ Present Mic

🎤 Again another who wasn’t affected by your cat talking, he however is not as happy about it as others. They literally argue all the time because let’s be honest Hizashi is like a big cat himself. 🎤 You were constantly breaking them up, they never tried to hurt each other but they would always complain about something that the other was doing. 🎤 You tried to split your time between them equally but they always had something to say about that too. 🎤 As they lived together more they learned to deal with each other better, they learned what set the other off and tried to avoid it when you were around.

Hizashi had been at work all day, you were in the kitchen cutting up meat, you put a small pile aside for (Y/C/N) as you started cooking up the meat for dinner, once it was all cooked you put his portion aside and continued cooking for you and Hizashi. “Smells good.” Hizashi said, his voice softer than most people get to hear it. “Thank you.” You smiled leaning back into him as he rested his forehead on your shoulder. “Long day? How are the kids?” “Fine, they’re fine.” He answered. “But…” You prompted him to continue as he lifted his head. “They didn’t come to UA to do english lessons, they get bored so easily, stop paying attention.” He explained and you chuckled. “You know, even for people who aren’t looking to become heroes, English lessons were boring, it’s just about making it interesting.” You said. “Don’t give him ideas he’s interesting enough.” Your bubble was shattered as the black cat jumped up on the counter top. “Do you mind? We are having a private conversation.” Hizashi scolded him. “Well then don’t have it in the middle of the kitchen.” (Y/C/N) muttered. “Would it have mattered if we were in the bedroom?” Hizashi asked. “I guess not.” He turned away and walked over to the plate where you had left the meat that you saved for him. “This for me?” “Yeah.” You answered, lifting the plate away from him “If I give you this will you leave us alone for a little while, you know it’s not your turn so don’t be a bother.” “Fine, fine.” He lifted his paw as if to pull your hand down to him. “Good.” You nodded, you put the plate back down before going back to your own dinner and finishing up what you needed to. “I’ve decided what movie to watch tonight.” He mumbled and you smiled. “Good, then let’s finish this food so we can watch a movie and you can relax yeah?” You suggested and you felt him nod rather then heard him but you both made small noises as (Y/C/N) made a noise of disgust in the back of his throat.

Request Here!!

[johnnycakesswitch]

Do you have any anxious!Ponyboy headcanons??

Omg absolutely 😁

• Ponyboy was always an anxious kid, but it got a lot worse after his parents died. He would have those awful nightmares and sometimes really bad ones would cause a panic attack. Soda sleeping with him helped that a lot though

• one thing that helps calm him a lot is reading, so if Johnny notices that Pony’s been really stressed or anxious lately, he’ll ask Ponyboy to read out loud to him because he knows it’ll give him something to focus on and it usually settles his nerves a little

• he hates being anxious so much because it not only stresses him out a lot, but it has such a physical affect on his body. He doesn’t get a lot of sleep, head and stomachaches become so frequent, and he never has an appetite when he’s feeling so much anxiety like this. If it’s really bad, he’ll even throw up sometimes because it’s just so much and his body doesn’t know what to do

• some big triggers for his anxiety to spike are when he’s overwhelmed or if his mind starts to make up these crazy scenarios of something terrible happening. Finals week at school is always a bad time for everyone. Pony is just miserable because he stresses himself out so bad and the others feel awful not knowing how to help him. If Darry or Soda are ever home late from work without calling, he assumes the worst. If he goes a few days without seeing Johnny or Dally, he’s just sure that something terrible happened.

• after the church fire and Johnny and Dally dying, Pony goes through the worst bout of anxiety he’s ever had. He doesn’t want to go to school because he’s afraid if he leaves, something will happen to someone else and he won’t get to say goodbye. He couldn’t eat and was sick so often to the point that he lost weight and Darry and Soda were so concerned that they took him to the doctor and Pony was prescribed anxiety medication. It took a little while to even out, but once it did, things started getting better and everyone was relieved

• when Pony is feeling really anxious, all he really wants is to be comforted, but he never knows that’s what he wants. If he’s stressing over school, he won’t want to stop studying and doing work until someone coaxes him out of it and starts taking care of him. If he believes that something has happened to someone, he’s almost inconsolable until he’s absolutely sure that the person is okay, only then he’s able to relax

• Darry and Soda have done their best to find ways to comfort their baby brother. Darry is good at verbal comfort. He’s the best person when it comes to reassurance because he says things in a way that Pony actually believes him. Darry telling him that everything is alright and everyone is safe is very grounding to Pony. If that’s the type of comfort Pony needs, Darry’s got it. Soda is good at physical comfort. If his baby brother is hurting, Soda will hold him until it’s all better. It breaks his heart to see Pony so upset and anxious, so he’ll do whatever he can to help. He can feel when Pony is so tense with stress, especially in bed at night, so he’ll hug him and rub his stomach to try and settle him down, which almost always works. If Ponyboy is anxious to the point of feeling sick, Soda is who he wants. Most of the time, a combination of both of his brothers is good enough to calm him down a lot

That’s all I can think of for now! I have a fic idea about Pony being super stressed and anxious over school that I’m gonna try to work on this weekend too. Thank you for the ask!!

[aclowntiny]

Hello 👋

Can I pls request seventeen reaction when they have a crush on female reader they haven't confessed yet and gets jealous when we hang out with our guy best friend more than them?

Thank you ❤️

Sure! As a girl with guy friends this is an interesting request for sure hehe 😁 sorry some are simpler than others, I just believe not all of them would be very jealous 😅 & that sometimes situations get misread so I mixed it up a few times! warning: long post ahead!!! hehe

Seventeen's Reaction to Their Crush's Guy Best Friend (F!Reader)

S.Coups

You were the cutest thing Seungcheol had ever seen. The way your lips pressed together when you thought, how wide you smiled when you got a pleasant shock…the way you’d given that same smile when he’d offered you his arm half-jokingly, half-seriously and you’d taken it, walking right alongside him like that.

So who was that guy making you smile and laugh? Why were you always dropping someone else’s name? Was he that dense or was this guy really just a good friend? Seungcheol wanted to be that name. He wanted to have you by his side, have plans with you as often as your self-described “movie buddy” you caught nearly every new flick with. He could feel his brow creasing whenever his eyes fell upon the guy, mostly out of confusion, but a touch out of something else, even though he knew he didn’t have the right.

He just wanted it, wanted it so bad it was practically motivation throughout the day. As if every task, every workout, was saving up more strength to finally have that conversation with you.

It came more quickly than he cared to admit, his feet carrying him right to you of their own accord. You were wearing his favorite color on you, and the smile you gave him when you turned around only spurred him on. He had to know. Had to make you his if there was any chance in the world. If not, that ‘buddy’ of yours had better treat you like a queen.

“Hi, Seungcheol!” You gave him a little wave and he thought his heart might burst. “What’s up?”

“Have you seen that new mystery that just came out?”

“Not yet,” you shook your head, “but hopefully soon, I’d really like to!”

“Oh, you haven’t made plans with your boyfriend for it yet?”

Your gape, the near-horror that crossed your eyes, was priceless in more ways than one. “That is not my boyfriend, that’s just my bestie! He’s my mom’s best friend’s son, and he’s so not my type!”

Passion took hold of Seungcheol, a wave of adrenaline like he could barely describe. “I see! I wanted to respect your relationship to him above anything, but if that’s the case… Can I ask you out to go see it?”

“Of course!” You grin. “I keep telling him to get a girlfriend to take to all these movies anyway! I only like you.”

It took everything in Seungcheol not to kiss you right then and there.

Jeonghan

“Well, what am I supposed to think?”

“She said they were just friends!”

“She also sits really close to him.”

Jeonghan was sick and tired of that same old argument. Sick and tired of wondering who that guy you took everywhere with them was, even if he was really nice. The others tried their hands at blind reassurance, but Jeonghan was the type to get information himself, and the way you two had sat so close, chairs pushed nearly as much as possible together and legs brushing, was the final straw.

One conversation and he would know. Would leave you alone and smile through the knowledge that he was too late, come to accept it in time. All he had to do was play his cards just right, and if there was one thing he was good at it was that.

You were happy that night. Having a great time out with Seventeen, laughing at Soonyoung’s antics after he’d had one too many, stealing lots of glances Jeonghan’s way that had his heart leaping and easy smile manifesting. Your ‘best friend’ couldn’t make it, so it was the perfect time to work his hook into the conversation.

“Did you see those little flower stands on the corner?”

“Yeah,” you nod, an eager yet wistful look crossing your lovely features, “the bouquets are so pretty! It’s because Valentine’s Day is around the corner.” And there it was- you had taken the bait exactly. “If only…”

The way your chin fell onto your hand, the little drift of your eyes. Dreamy, all of it. It was enough to make Jeonghan want to spoil you. “You don’t think anyone will get you some?”

Your eyes widen a bit; you take a sip of your drink and shake your head. “No, who on earth would? Unless I had a secret admirer,” you joked, voice truly and genuinely incredulous.

That was all Jeonghan felt too, complete shock at your lack of awareness of what a gem you were. Well, that and the soaring rise of satisfaction knowing how surprised you were going to be on the fourteenth.

Joshua

Joshua embodied the old “slow to anger” verse for sure. It took a lot to build resentment in him and he truly saw the best in others whenever he could. So the fact that this guy was bugging him? Had to be his problem. I mean, you met in dance class, of course he’d be dancing with you across the practice room floor, but why’d it seem like showing off when-

“Jealous?” Suddenly Jeonghan had appeared at his side, catlike smile upon his face.

Heat crept to Joshua’s face at the single word, furrowing his brows even as his eyes widened. That was all his vocal unit-mate needed, it seemed.

“I knew it. You like her, don’t you? That’s the only reason you’d care if they were dancing, after all we showed them the moves we were working on.”

“I just-” He sighed, unable to defend himself with lies any longer. “Yeah. I guess I just wish that could be me waltzing with her like that.”

“It can be! Watch!” Jeonghan held up a hand. “(y/n), can Joshua try? He’ll be a natural!”

“Of course!” You lit up. Waving away your dance partner, you stepped up to Joshua. “I can see you being a good waltzer, Mr. Gentleman.”

Rolling his eyes at Jeonghan’s smug look, Joshua nervously, gently, gripped your waist, ready to give you the waltz of your life and dip you like your best friend almost did.

Jun

He was always teasing you and nudging you, but it was ok, right? He drove you around and bought you food sometimes, too, but that was alright… wasn’t it?

It was natural to want to do those things with you, too, as long as he didn’t let any animosity toward the other guy build up. At least that’s what Jun told himself. Some of the members were whispering suspicions about you just not going official yet, and that was like an arrow straight through his heart. Ever since the day you two had gone to that cat café, after all, his heart had been for you and you alone.

You were laughing really hard at something he said. Something about raisins that surely needed context. Part of him wanted to scoot in closer. Another part wanted to just leave and move on to another conversation. He settled for quiet, just watching for a bit. Your eyes darted his way and he smiled. You smiled back. You brought up something funny he'd done, asked if he would recreate it for everyone. For you, he would.

The way you laughed was worth it. Lighting up your eyes reminded Jun what was really important- protecting your precious soul. Your friend laughed, too, played off the joke perfectly. He was a nice guy, he really was. Jun still couldn't help feeling intimidated, though, when he went up to get another drink and your best friend immediately followed. Trying to play it cool, he turned his head, gave your buddy a smile.

"Hi. Do you need something? I can get you a drink, or- or-"

"She'd kill me if she knew I was doing this," he blurted out, eyes staring right into Jun's eyes, "but she likes you, man. I wouldn't normally say anything, but... I don't know, I can just see it with you two. I just don't want her to get hurt, so..."

"I don't either." Jun's eyes widened at the revelation, corners of his mouth threatening to tug upward. "I just want to make her as happy as she makes me."

"Believe me, if all her rants are any indication, you do," your best friend teased Jun, elbowing him.

Hoshi

The moment he heard that you, the object of his feelings, had a guy best friend, it set off an insatiable curiosity. Soonyoung had to meet this guy and meet this guy fast. Because if this guy was your bestie, he probably wasn't your type, right? So if he was anything like Soonyoung himself, ouch. Not that it sounded like the guy was a choreographer or anywhere near the tiger aficionado he was. But just as important: did he treat you right? It sounded like he did. Did he set the bar really high? Model how a real man should act or would Soonyoung have to sweep in and take over for the bas-

"I know this is a little silly of a way to spend your day off, so I really appreciate you joining us, Soonyoung. Sorry we're late!"

Your words interrupted his reverie, cutting the blur of his vision back to dial in on your wonderful smile again. In your hand was the box of lego he'd agreed to build with you and the guy he'd been curious about for so long, someone who was really into building sets, apparently. Soonyoung could dig it. A rare respite from the usual chaos he lived in.

"Don't worry," he comforts you, throwing a hopefully-subtle glance your bestie's way. Well, he certainly didn't look like Soonyoung. Whew. "This is a great way to force me to relax. I'm all yours!"

Of course, being a tiny bit more flirty around the best friend may also draw a distinction...better venture putting an arm around you when you sit down just in case...

"Next time I come to Seoul, I'm hoping my girlfriend can make it, too," you best friend suddenly comments as he splits the baggie labeled with a 1 open, "she just had to be in LA this week. We could..." He pauses, glances between you and Soonyoung with a sly smile. "...maybe do a double date or something?"

Oh, he could just kiss this guy! No, wait, you! Soonyoung feels himself flush and grin widely before he can help it, trying to calm his expression as he glances your way. Can you feel his heartbeat against your side?

Your eyelashes flutter. So cute. "I-I'm game if you are," you tell him shyly.

"I am. I so am."

Wonwoo

"Well, if it isn't Jeon 'Nerves of Steel' Wonwoo."

"Are you insecure or something?" The bespectacled rapper shoots back, sparing Chan a passing glance.

"No, I'm sane! If I liked someone whose best friend was all over her like that, I’d hardly be carrying on like normal.”

“All over her? They’re just walking up arm in arm! We don’t even know the guy yet,” Wonwoo reminds him. After all, this is the first time they’ll be meeting the bestie they’d heard so much about, so it is still unfair to judge him. Even if Wonwoo does wonder what it would feel like to get to walk with you that way…

“Hi guys! We’re here!”

You exclaim the greeting and your best friend grabs your hand, hoisting them up like you’ve just won the Olympics. The others swarm you right away, members you’re also close with and a few of the elders vibe-checking your friend. By the time Wonwoo approaches, Chan following quickly behind him with a skeptical arch of his brow, Seungcheol is already talking to him about music.

“Of course I’ve heard your songs! (y/n)’s car alone would teach me a lot, but I’m a fan anyway! It must be so amazing, all the different people you guys get to work with and other idols you get to meet! Who’s the nicest?”

He does seem really nice. Chan can keep his immaturity to himself, Wonwoo thinks. Who cares if the guy is- still holding your hand? Ok, a bit suspicious, but he had to swallow that, remembering your happiness was the most important thing and smiling for you.

“Oh my gosh! Wooyoung from Ateez? Good to know, he’s pretty much my ideal type!” Your best friend jokes to Seungkwan, who’s quickly hijacked the conversation about other idols. “Isn’t that right, (y/n)?”

“Save it for your poster,” you joke back before turning toward Chan and Wonwoo with a teasing grin, “I keep telling him his next boyfriend should be a lookalike- whoever finds him wins!”

Ok, now Wonwoo is smiling for both of you.

Woozi

Oh, man, if Seungcheol found out, he was dead meat. At least that was Jihoon’s guess. His fellow leader could be very intimidating when he wanted to be, and the protective streak Jihoon admired would surely apply to his best female friend. The very same woman he had fallen for.

You were bright, cheery in a way that energized him instead of exhausting him. Just the type he'd always dreamed of. The day you left one of your silly little figurines in his studio "just to keep him company" was the day he knew he'd fallen hard. Seungcheol always beamed at you with pride, and Jihoon could see why. But did your friend see you as his?

“Here, listen to this!” Seungcheol was in the studio, your figurine and Jihoon both watching as he gently dropped a pair of headphones onto you.

Your eyelids fluttered closed; contentment spread across your face, bringing warmth to Jihoon’s heart as he couldn’t tear his eyes away. Gently you nodded to the rhythm, smile growing as your head bobbed. It was like Seungcheol was gloating, torturing him-

“What do you think?” Hands on either side of your head, your friend freed you from the headphones’ grip and peered into your eyes with a smile Jihoon tried desperately to read. Maybe that was the problem: he was trying both too hard and not hard enough.

“I love it!” You burst out, glancing between the men on either side of you from your chair. “Did you write this, or-”

“No,” he shook his head, “Jihoon did. Sounds like someone beautiful must have inspired him, huh?”

Seungcheol’s head turned as he said those last words, nodded almost imperceptibly. Oh. It was that demo. Was he- Was he giving his blessing? Jihoon felt red blooming beneath his cheeks, barely resisted the urge to frown and wave a hand and turn back around from your gaze. Well, the nod- and Seungcheol’s look of amused surprise- would have to do. Jihoon didn’t feel like having a conversation with him about it, but maybe he’d have one with you soon…

DK

You seemed positively giddy to introduce Seokmin and your best friend, probably because he was like the next best thing. Not that that was the role he wanted. It wasn’t besting the poor…well, bestie, it was simply that you were so cute and he just wanted to hold you and sway you back and forth and kiss your cheeks and…

Seokmin really liked you. The fact that you had a guy best friend, though? Easily meant you just clicked with dudes, had a different approach to dating. It wasn’t something he tried to bring up too much. Ignorance is bliss, after all.

Bliss that couldn’t last forever, though, as you dragged your friend forward and Seokmin got ready to study every interaction you had with him. After all, if you acted the exact same way toward that guy it would be obvious. Crushing, pun intended, but obvious.

The guy playfully rolled his eyes as you yanked him over- not by the hand, though, by the sleeve. Interesting. Introductions went smoothly.

“So, how long have you two known each other again?” Seokmin asked.

“Funny, I was just about to ask the same thing to you!” Your best friend replied with a smile.

Was that a challenge? A threat? Was this a how-well-we-know-(y/n)-off?

Apparently not, for all the guy did was nod and say “Ok, cool!” before you guys all headed into the arcade.

Soon you three were having a shoot-off at the basketball game, and when you took second place, you high-fived both of them. Equal treatment? But earlier you had put your hand on his shoulder, oh and you said he looked cute when you guys were messing with the game props and-

“Hey, Seokmin?” Your friend had gone to the restroom, leaving just the two of you pulling aside from the hoops.

“Yeah?”

“I hope this isn’t a weird time to do this, but, well, I wanted there to be a third person in case things got awkward,” you paused for three, four of his rampant heartbeats, “I just wanted to tell you that I like you.”

His jaw dropped. “Are you serious?”

“Why would I lie about something like that?”

“I dunno, I guess I was just worried you saw me the same as your friend there,” he shrugged.

“Please,” you waved your hand, “love that guy, but he doesn’t have a romantic bone in his body.”

Seokmin grinned. “And I do?”

“Says the guy who always pulls me away from the road and gave me his scarf the other night!”

“Oh,” Seokmin mused, “I forgot about that. But you know what? Keep it.” And with that, he scooped you into a the warmest hug of your life, all the lights and chatter of the arcade fading out beneath the sensation.

Mingyu

Mungyu was head over frickin heels for you. You, the way you smiled, how hard you laughed at his roast battle with Soonyoung (he won), the cute little way you wrung your hands when you were nervous. He couldn’t help but feel jealous of your male best friend, though- that man must have known your lovely brain even more intimately, known every secret to winning your heart. Maybe he already was winning it, the way you always sat by him and dragged him along on your wonderfully silly antics. The most conflicting part? Your best friend was one of his bandmates.

He’d only met you because you moved near Seventeen’s dorms and Seokmin started bringing you around. It shouldn’t have mattered, but the way you laughed together had his chest tightening, wondering why that couldn’t be him. But would saying something upset Seokmin, cause a rift between the two men? That was the last thing Mingyu wanted. If only his heart would dull its ache, quit beating a mile a minute the moment you fell into his sights.

Something snapped in him one day, though, when you fated three made a convenience store run. You were in a particularly good mood, excitedly grabbing your best friend’s hand and swinging your joined appendages back and forth. All Mingyu wanted was closure, and he was going to get it once and for all.

“So, do you two like each other?” The moment Seokmin rounded the corner to find his favorite snacks, the words burst from the tall rapper’s lips. Mingyu’s composure threatened to falter in the seconds before you answered, ticks that felt like minutes.

You giggled, but the sound wasn’t sheepish, in fact it was…incredulous? Not to mention extremely adorable the way you lit up with mirth. “No way! Seokmin is like a brother to me. In fact, the only reason he started bringing me around Seventeen was thinking he was going to set me up with one of you,” you replied.

“Really?” Mingyu can’t hide his gape at that. “Which one?”

At that, you giggle again. “I don’t think it mattered, really! I think he just wants to make a real sister-in-law out of me. I’d probably have my pick,” you rolled your eyes teasingly.

But then your gaze fell from his almost shyly. And there between aisles of foil snack packages, beneath fluorescent bar lights, came a glittering vision of hope. As if all of Mingyu’s dreams were going to come true.

“Well, if you’re taking applications, sign me up,” he tells you, leaning against a cookie display.

His arm slipped and he almost fell, but you said yes, so nothing was going to wipe the grin off of his face as he took your hand, insisted on carrying your bag on the way back to the dorms.

Seokmin just swung his head back and forth between you two. “What happened while I was gone?”

The8

“You’re not jealous?”

“Why should I be?”

Frankly, it blew some of the other more possessive-leaning Seventeen members’ minds how little it bothered Minghao. You, the girl he claimed to have feelings for, to feel differently toward than anyone else he'd ever met.

"Because that guy is sitting awfully close to her!" Mingyu shot back. "You're not upset? At least feeling like you have competition?"

"A person isn't a prize. It's her choice on who to be with, not mine, and besides, they're best friends. I'm not exactly wishing to be in his place, no," Minghao responds, ending his statement with a smirk.

Mingyu shakes his head at first before breaking into an amused smile and laugh. "All right, you got me there."

Before much else could be said, Minghao heard his name, grinned as he turned around and saw you waving him over. "Come play our silly little game with us!"

"Ok," he chuckled, sending one last smile to Mingyu, who mouthed an overly encouraging 'go get 'em, tiger' that had his nose wrinkling.

In all honesty, it made him happy to be included in moments like that one, old nostalgic games with your best friend. Like him back or not, there was a beauty in seeing Minghao as an important enough part of your life and he wouldn't waste that. As a matter of fact, it only encouraged him to get closer to you and your friends and welcome you more into his life, too.

“After this, you get to pick the next game, ok?”

Minghao just smiled. “Of course. I can teach you mine and my mom’s old favorite.”

Seungkwan

“Oh, remember at your brother’s birthday party when your mom had the limbo contest?”

“Yes, he just bent his legs so weird!”

You and one of your closest friends are sitting reminiscing on all the things you’d done together. The two of you have, for lack of a better term, history, and maybe that’s something that will never get built up the same with-

“Seungkwan?”

Turning his head, Seungkwan responds to his leader’s call with a faint hum, seeing Seungcheol nod toward an empty bedroom and following him in. As soon as he steps through the threshold, he sees the way his elder has his arms crossed and his downturned eyebrows raise.

“Wanna talk about what’s going on out there? And before you ask, yes, I can tell something’s off. It’s (y/n) and her friend, huh?”

Curse his expressiveness. Sometimes Seungkwan feels like he can never keep a secret. Everything is betrayed by his face or the way he acts, but nothing in the world can suppress reflex, pure emotion. At least not all the time.

He sighs. “Yes. I just… I just can’t help feeling like I’ve lost. He knows her like the back of his hand, they have all these memories together… maybe I should just give up.”

“Just because they’ve known each other for longer doesn’t mean anything,” Seungcheol comforts him, stepping forward to rest a firm hand on his shoulder, “in fact, maybe that’s a good sign. If they’ve been friends for years and he’s never made a move, why would he now?”

Seungkwan’s shoulders rise and fall beneath his leader’s warm grip. “Maybe. I guess… I mean, I just worry because she’s spending all that time with him and what am I if not-”

“Seungkwan!”

Your voice cuts into the dark, curling clouds of his reverie, fading around the corner as he stiffens and Seungcheol drops his hand again. Shuffling carefully forward, he tentatively leaves the room to find you standing before him, a smile rising gently to your lips.

“There you are,” you breathe, stepping closer, “I was worried when I saw you leave suddenly. Are you alright?”

His heart flips. He nods. “Yeah, Seungcheol just had a question for me. I’m heading back out, in fact,” he adds, shooting Seventeen’s leader a brief look and receiving a nod in response.

“Good. It’s not the same without you,” you tell him, and this smile elicits more than a flip- this time his heart practically explodes.

“Really?” He asks before he can stop himself.

“Really,” you confirm, heading back out into the room. Luckily you don’t seem to notice the very smug, triumphant glance he shoots your best friend’s way.

Vernon

Vernon isn’t the jealous type. Possessiveness is unnecessary stress, and he feels like if two people truly connect there’s no need.

The problem is he isn’t sure how well you two have connected. Sure you’re friends and sure you guys have hung out, but there’s another guy you’re with all the time- boyfriend? Hard to tell. If so, not officially, not in words. He’s your best friend, your ride or die, so to speak, and Vernon isn’t going to do anything to get in the way of that. Having twelve ride or dies himself, that would be hypocrisy in the highest.

Yet the way his brow furrows seeing you with him, the unpleasant jolt of his heart when you bring up yet another joke just the two of you share, has him wondering if his interest is feckless. It’s not anger, for he had no claim to you, but a strong desire for closure, just one final word to release him from the surreptitious glances at your beauty or jokes made just for you. The thoughts of what sort of stuff you would do as a couple- were you the matching tattoos or matching pajamas type? DIY dates or something bougier? Probably more DIY, you were so down to earth, but Vernon would spoil you if you let him…

“Oh, come off it, bro,” you waved your best friend’s hand off your shoulder, wrinkling your nose at the embarrassing childhood anecdote, “I haven’t done that since I was a kid and you never saw me, my mom just told you the story!”

Bro? Bro! One choice word had Vernon’s ears perking up. He’d never caught you going full bro with your bestie before. Did he have a shot? Involuntarily his heartbeat picked up.

“And I’ll never let you forget it,” your best friend gave you a smug look, crossing his arms.

Your eyes met Vernon’s in a flustered glance. As cute as you looked embarrassed, he didn’t want you to be uncomfortable. Instead he offered a comforting smile. “Don’t worry, I didn’t really catch it.”

Sighing in relief, you shook your head at your friend before looking once more at Vernon. “You’re so lucky you just have a sister, otherwise this is what you have to deal with.”

Vernon laughed at that, a sound that even surprised him, but such a giddy rush had struck his heart with the hope that came from your revelation. If your best friend was a brother in your eyes, could someone else hold your heart?

Dino

Lee Chan was, in a word, not having it.

You were it for him, a girl like he'd never met before, and it had become his newest mission in life to show you how amazing you were. Compliments, small gifts, being there for help or comfort whenever you needed it, all were fair game for the youngest member of Seventeen.

So why were you suddenly dragging this other guy around everywhere?

Chan's heart felt like it was in a vice when you made all the posts taking him to an amusement park, to Baskin Robbins, the park, all the cute places he would have given anything to go one-on-one with you to.

"Trust me, I think you should let this go," Minghao told him at practice one day, "look at his arm around her, nice but so stiff. There's no way the two of them are anything but friends."

Valid point, but who else would take up such major real estate of your time so quickly? Go from zero to sixty hanging out unless you were his girlfriend? Either way Chan wasn't going down without a fight.

The next time he saw you, the metaphorical gloves were off. And by that, Chan fully intended to march right up to you, thundering of his heart be darned, and have his choice words. Well, choice question, really.

"Why are you doing all those things with him and not me?" It wasn't entirely a complaint, not entirely a command or entreaty either. It was everything Chan felt when he looked at you and lit up, then saw someone else basking in that light.

Your brows furrowed at his words, every twitch of your muscle one of true confusion, before you spoke. "Who, my cousin? He's only in Seoul for a few more weeks, so we've been cramming it all in. Do you really want to do all that with me too?"

Cousin! Internally Chan was breaking out into a one-man dance routine. Externally? He had to keep it a bit cooler.

"With you and no one else," he confirmed with a smile, leaning back against the wall with a look of smug satisfaction, even if it did mean Minghao was right.

[sakascal]

Living Fiction - Chapter 1

This story was written for @hazyconstellationss as a part of the Good Omens Reference Library Discord Server Gift Exchange. Hello @hazyconstellationss, this is your secret demon trying to tempt you into dropping everything to read this now. 😉

You gave me the prompts for a human AU where florist Crowley gives writer Aziraphale a gift and somehow that turned into this little story of two idiots pining over each other. I hope you like it! This is my first ever AU and I had a ton of fun writing it, so thank you very much for that fabulous prompt! 💜

Thank you to the GO Reference Library for setting up this gift exchange.💜

Thank you to my wonderful friends and fellow writers at @whickberstreetwriters for friendship and moral support and especially to @rcreveal, @playdohangel, @bohoteacher, @angie-words and @sixshotsinatumbllr (and for this chapter specifically @rcreveal, @playdohangel, @bohoteacher, @sixshotsinatumbllr) for phenomenal beta reading, fun comments, helpful insights and wonderful ideas on how to improve this. And for fixing spelling and especially grammatical errors aplenty. 😁 Couldn't have done it without you.💜

Also thank you to my lovely daughter who went above and beyond when I handed her my iPad and pen and asked her for a quick digital drawing of a plant to use as a cover for a story. Two hours later I had this little masterpiece you see below. Yes, I may be laying it on a bit thick here with the praise, but I am a very proud mom of a very talented 9-year-old, so I think I may be permitted a bit of gushing. 😊

(If you see this, Mausi: Hab dich lieb! And don't go to my AO3 account. You are nine, that's not the right place for you. Especially not because you go 'eeewww' every time you see me kissing Papa.😂)

Rating: T

Summary

For two years self-published romance writer Azariah Fell has been coming to this café, three times a week on a schedule. He likes to work there, with easy access to refreshing hot drinks and delicious pastries, and always sits at the same table, directly at the window with the street right in view. And if he is honest, it's the view that he's coming for - but not of the street.

Right across the street is the florist shop 'Serpens et Horto', and the proprietor Anthony Crowley keeps drawing his eyes. Azariah regularly finds himself buying plants and flowers at that shop, even though he had known nothing about plants when he first came to this café. So, is it really a surprise when one of the main characters in his latest book has a striking resemblance to Anthony Crowley?

Excerpt

It wasn’t like he was staring at the man, like a creep or a weirdo or anything. He was just idly gazing out his shop’s window when he had nothing better to do, and that table just happened to be right across from it. And that was simply right where the man was. Three times a week. He was hard to miss with his pale hair and old-fashioned clothing. Waistcoat over a button-up shirt, a bow-tie and even braces. During the summer when the man had opened his waistcoat to evade a heatstroke, Crowley supposed, he had seen them peek out. Like he was cosplaying a bloody librarian. And those tiny reading glasses sitting low on his dainty, pointy, upturned nose were ridiculous - and bizarrely charming.

“Is he back again?” Warlock had come up behind him while Crowley had not been staring at the man across the street.

“Hmm? Oh, him,” Crowley said in an attempt to salvage the situation. Pining after a man didn’t fit his image.

But apparently he couldn’t even fool a tween. “So, have you asked him out yet?”

“No,” he answered with a sigh, crossing his arms over his chest. Crowley didn’t even know his name, for fuck’s sake. “Not that it’s any of your business,” he added, growling, when he realised that might have sounded slightly pathetic.

“Really don’t know what you’re waiting for,” Warlock went on, obviously unperturbed.

Crowley knew. Kind of. He wasn’t even sure if the man was truly interested - or just really liked plants. As often as he came in here to buy one. His flat must be a veritable green house by now. Or maybe he was simply terrible at keeping them alive. If that was the case, he would actually be morally obligated to stop selling him plants, wasn’t like they could defend themselves.

But those times when the man came into ‘Serpens et Horto’ were the only chances Crowley got to talk to him. He enjoyed talking to him and used every opportunity he got. And still, he didn’t even know his name. Somehow, he just never found a good enough reason to ask for his name. The man certainly knew his name, though, not that it was difficult with Crowley wearing a name tag.

“You know,” Warlock continued, “men your age really shouldn’t hesitate on these things. It’s not like you have time to waste.”

“Men my–!” Crowley swatted at Warlock, who jumped out of range just in time, laughing. Fucking reflexes of youth. “I’m 45, not half dead!”

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