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nvrsaidiwasinurcloset · 2 months

Note

thank you so much for writing my Valentine’s Day request! I would definitely love to see a part 2 or a mini series (if you’re up for it ofc). maybe where they are wedding planning and then the day of the wedding and all the girls help the reader get ready (Chad helps Ethan ofc) and Quinn is super excited to have a sister in law… and maybe at the end the new wedded landrys will announce baby landry on the way 😉

Okay, this is MASSIVE. I hope you like it:) I had a lot to fit in lmao

Perfectly Perfect - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader - Part 2

Summary: After Ethan asks you to marry him, you learn that he wants to marry you as soon as possible. He also mentions how badly he wants kids soon, but it happens sooner than expected.

Part 1

Contains: Fluff, pregnancy, suggestions to sex, and if I didn't use the word 'fuck', it wouldn't be a fic I wrote :)

A/N: Jesus, I hope y'all like this. I've spent a couple days on it, and it has SO MUCH in it. Like 8 months worth of stuff in 6.7k words(I double-checked for grammatical errors, and if you catch something I didn't, I'm SO SORRY). I didn't want to leave it on a cliffhanger like I love to do. I'll be working on a couple fics tomorrow, one of them will definitely be smut:)

After Ethan proposed, you didn’t want to get back to your normal life. You couldn’t wait to start talking about wedding planning, but he wanted to wait for the weekend so he could completely focus on it and not be stressed about his work project.

On Friday night, you sat on top of his kitchen counter as he made you dinner. You offered to help, but he knew your day was stressful, so he wanted you to relax. You smiled as you watched him, thinking back to the first time he ever tried to cook for you.

He tried to make pasta with this sauce that he made from scratch. He wanted it to seem like he knew what he was doing, even though the most he’d ever made was ramen and instant mac and cheese. The gesture was sweet, but the food tasted terrible. You didn’t show it though, until he finally spoke up.

“This tastes awful…how are you eating that?” he asked as you started to laugh a little.

“You worked hard on it, babe.”

“Fuck it, let’s order Chinese,” he said, pulling out his phone. “One day, I’ll be good at cooking.”

“I can always cook for you, though,” you smiled, as he shook his head.

“One of these days, I want to be able to cook for you and our kids,” he said, placing the order and sitting his phone down on the table. Your eyes widened, because that was the first time he’d ever hinted that the two of you would have a long future together. You’d only been together for a little over a year, but you knew you wanted to be with him forever.

“Kids, huh? How many are we having?” you asked, taking a sip of your water.

“I think five is a good number,” he said, as you started to choke on the water. “Okay, maybe not five. But I know I want a family with you someday.”

“I’d like that,” you smiled, as he leaned over to kiss you, “But five is definitely a lot.”

His cooking skills improved after he discovered that salt and pepper weren’t the only seasonings someone could use. When he walked over and reached around to grab some spices out of the cabinet, you started to move your head.

“You’re fine, baby,” he said, kissing your forehead before he grabbed what he needed.

“I’m absolutely dying to talk about wedding stuff,” you said dramatically, as he went back to his place in front of the stove.

“What do you want to talk about first?” he asked, smiling as he focused on dinner.

“When do you want to get married?” he started to laugh a little at your question.

“I’d marry you right this second if we could pull a wedding together that quick.” He said, “I’m thinking October.”

“Like, eight months away October? Or next year?” you questioned, getting a little nervous.

“This year,” he said, sautéing the veggies he was cooking in the pan.

“Uh, I don’t know if we could pull that off. We’d have to find a wedding venue, a photographer, a DJ, a florist…I’d have to get a dress. Plus, October is a busy wedding month,” you sighed, “Most of the venues are probably booked up already.”

“I can pull some strings,” he said, as you curiously eyed him. “One of the guys at work has a cousin that’s about to open their own wedding venue this fall. He mentioned it when I told him I was going to propose.”

“Really?” you asked, “But there’s still so many other things to do.”

“Let’s eat first, then we can look into it.”

The food he made was delicious. He smiled proudly as you wouldn’t stop complimenting his cooking skills. It was definitely an improvement from what he tried to make for you four years ago.

“I told you, I was going to get better at cooking for you and our future kids,” he started to laugh, but then he got quiet as he started to think. “How do you feel about trying for one soon?”

His question caught you off guard, your cheeks turning pink. “Oh, um…” you were so flustered as you tried to compile your thoughts, “Yeah, I’d love that, but we need to get the wedding stuff squared away first, then we’ll talk about it.”

“Deal.”

After dinner, he sat down with you on the couch and pulled out his phone to show you the pictures of the new wedding venue that was almost finished.

“That’s beautiful!” you said, looking at the tall ceilings and the spacious outside area.

“They’re going to get the landscaping finished this week, and then they have to do a few more things to the inside. I’ll ask him if we can tour it when it’s finished,” he said, his arm draping around your shoulder as he pulled you closer. “I want our wedding day to be everything you’ve ever dreamed of, so if you hate it, we could always push it out a year.”

“I’m sure I’ll love it just by how gorgeous it already looks,” you said, snuggling into his chest, “but yeah, ask him about touring it.”

“Oh, Chad has a friend that’s a photographer, too,” he said, as you raised up a little to look at him.

“Have you been wedding planning without me?” you joked, as he playfully rolled his eyes.

“No…well maybe a little,” he sighed, “His work is really good. I’ve also been looking at flowers and stuff on my breaks at work…don’t hate me.”

Your heart started to melt as you realized exactly how excited he was to marry you. You knew he wanted to and that he loved you, but him wanting to officially start your lives together as soon as possible made you feel so special.

“What do you think for colors?” you asked, interested in what he had to say.

“I haven’t thought about that yet, I wanted you to pick them.”

“I’m thinking a really pretty deep red and maybe some orange would look really nice, especially if the leaves are going to be changing,” you smiled, as he nodded.

The two of you continued to talk about your wedding ideas, and how big you wanted it to be. You knew some people that went all out and had hundreds of people at their weddings, but you and Ethan decided to keep that number at one hundred or less. You wanted it to be intimate, but still have all the people that meant a lot to you to be there.

“What about your bridesmaids?” he questioned, as you started to think.

“Well, of course Tara would be my Maid of Honor, and Mindy and Anika, but do you think Quinn would want to be the fourth one?” you asked, as he started smiling.

“She’d love that, babe. She loves you, and she’s always asking about you whenever she calls to check in,” he said, “It makes me so happy that you’d want someone from my family to be one of your bridesmaids.”

He started to talk about Chad being his best man, and you wouldn’t expect anything less. They were so close, and Chad was the reason the two of you got together in the first place. Ethan was shy, so Chad encouraged him to finally ask you out.

As the months started to fly by, you were surprised at how quickly everything was coming together. Between you and Ethan’s busy work schedules, you still found time to tour the venue, meet with a DJ, do your engagement shoot with Chad’s friend, and get your dress. You didn’t think you’d be able to pull off everything as quick as you were, but with the help of your friends, it was easy.

“Babe,” you called out as you walked through Ethan’s front door, “Where are you?”

He didn’t say anything, but you heard the faint sound of the shower. You walked into the bathroom as he was stepping out.

“Hey, babe,” he said, drying off as you hopped up onto the bathroom counter, “How was your appointment?”

“It was good. It didn’t hurt as bad to take it out as it did to have it put in,” you said, referring to your IUD. “Don’t get any ideas, though. We’re still four months away from the wedding.”

You wanted to wait until it was a lot closer to the wedding, but your doctor was about to have her own baby and was going to take a few months off. You were eager to start a family with Ethan, but you wanted to fit into the dress that you’d spent a lot of money on.

“Fineee,” he sighed out, wrapping his towel around his hips before standing in front of you. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” you said as he leaned in to kiss you. After he pulled away, you started to panic, remembering things you still had to do. “Fuck, I forgot to email the caterer!”

You tried to slide off the counter before Ethan stopped you. “I already did it, babe,” your mind was still racing, “And Tara stopped by work today to grab the invitations. She dropped them off at the post office for us.”

You sighed, relaxing a little as you smiled at him. “What else do we still have to do, then?”

“The only thing I want us to worry about tonight is spending time with each other,” he said, his hands resting on your thighs, “No wedding talk, no stressing. I just want to hang out.”

“Okay,” you said, as he stepped back so you could slide off the counter.

“I’m going to get dressed, then I’ll order food, and we can watch a movie,” he said, pecking your lips as you walked out of the bathroom.

You had a great night with Ethan. He knew how to calm you down and take your mind off things, even though the little voice inside your head kept reminding you of the few things you still had to do. When you woke up the next morning with Ethan spooning you, he was starting to stir awake himself.

“Good morning,” you giggled, as he kissed the back of your neck.

“Good morning,” he said, his curls tickling your bare shoulder, “We have stuff to do today.”

“Do we have to?” you asked, “Because I just want to stay in bed with you all day.”

You adjusted in his arms to face him, his sleepy eyes meeting your mischievous ones.

“Oh? Well, we do have a couple hours before we have to be at the bakery to decide on our cake flavors,” he said, his hands resting on your hips. “What about the possibility of getting pregnant?”

“I highly doubt that it’d happen that quick.”

A couple months later, you realized how wrong you were. Your period didn’t show up, which you assumed was because of the stress and your body getting used to no longer using birth control. After the second month of not getting one, your boobs really started to hurt.

“Uh, are you pregnant?” Tara asked, her eyes going wide as she helped you put together your wedding favors, “I know you mentioned wanting to have a baby soon.”

“I don’t think so,” you sighed, “I think it’s just the stress of the wedding has everything out of whack.”

“It can’t hurt to take a test to be sure. I know you’d feel bad if you were and you weren’t taking the vitamins you need,” she said, “Plus, it’s best to know sooner rather than later if you’re going to fit in your dress.”

“My doctor put me on the vitamins when I told her I wanted to get pregnant soon, so if I am, everything should be okay,” you sighed, getting a little anxious, “But, you’re right. I’ll take a test when Ethan gets back from tux shopping with Chad.”

“I love seeing Chad in a tux,” she gushed, “Maybe one day you’ll be helping me with my wedding…if he ever asks me.”

“It’ll happen. I thought Ethan would never ask, even with me hinting at it all the time.”

When Ethan and Chad made it back to Tara’s, she was practically pushing the two of you out the door. She knew that Chad and Ethan would probably get caught up in video games, but she knew you had more important things to do.

“Did you get your suit?” you asked from the passenger’s seat as Ethan drove.

“Yeah, I think you’ll like it,” he said, glancing over to you. “You okay?”

You sighed as you looked over to him, “Can we stop by the pharmacy on the way back to your house?”

“Yeah, are you feeling sick?” he asked, his voice showing concern.

“No, not really…but Tara thinks I’m pregnant,” you said, as Ethan almost ran a stop sign.

“Wait, what?” he asked, the both of you jolting forward as he came to a sudden stop. “We’ve been safe until a week ago.”

“If I am pregnant, it happened the morning we went to the bakery,” you said, as his hand reached over to grab yours. “I haven’t gotten my period, either.”

“Okay, um…yeah,” he stammered, trying to hide the excitement over the possibility.

“What if I am? I’ll be four months along and probably showing by then,” you sighed, “I won’t fit into my dress. I’m running out of time for alterations, too.”

“Well don’t freak out until we know for sure, okay?” he said, trying to calm you down.

After you made it back to Ethan’s, you went straight to the bathroom with the pharmacy bag in your hand.

“I’ll wait out here,” he said, leaning against the wall to give you your privacy.

He was hoping that the test would be positive, but he didn’t want you to be unhappy about it. He knew it would add even more stress if you were as far along as you thought. He started to get lost in his thoughts as he heard you squeal.

He opened the bathroom door to see your eyes watering and a huge smile on your face.

“Babe, I’m pregnant!”

“No fucking way!” he yelled, picking you up and spinning you. “Oh shit, okay. We’re going to be parents.” He sat you down on your feet and kissed you. “We can turn the spare bedroom into a nursery after the wedding!”

“Oh shit,” you said, your mind going back to the wedding, “I don’t mind being pregnant, and if I’m showing, I don’t care. But I need to figure out something for my dress.”

“Let’s make an appointment and make sure everything’s okay, then we can worry about that.”

You called your doctors office the following Monday, begging to be seen. With your normal doctor being out on maternity leave, they were able to schedule you with another doctor that same day that had a cancellation. You and Ethan both left work early to go because you didn’t know what to expect. You were happy he came with you because they realized that you were about ten weeks along and wanted to do an ultrasound to make sure the baby was measuring correctly.

“There’s not a whole lot to see right now, but the baby is measuring the way it should be,” the ultrasound technician said, as your eyes started to water. You looked over to see Ethan wiping his tears as he watched the screen. She occasionally paused so she could print out the sonograms from different angles.

When you went to walk out, she handed you a tiny little folder with the images she’d printed out. The cover of it said Baby’s First Photo’s, and when Ethan saw it, he lost it. You had to take a few minutes in the room as you tried to get him to stop crying.

“I’m sorry, I’m just so happy,” he said, as you reached up to wipe some of his tears.

“It’s okay, baby. I’m happy that you’re this happy,” you said, as he grabbed your hand.

“I love you so much. You’re going to be such an amazing mom,” he said, as he started to pull himself together.

“And you’re going to be an amazing dad. I love you too, babe.”

After the appointment, you talked to Ethan about telling Chad and Tara. Now that you knew the baby was okay, you just had to tell your best friend.

“That’s fucking awesome, dude! Congratulations,” Chad said, pulling Ethan into a hug.

“I knew it!” Tara said, wiping away the few tears that were slipping out.

“Show them the pictures!” Ethan said excitedly, as you grabbed the folder out of your purse.

“Aww, little baby Landry,” Chad said, flipping through the images.

“What do you think you’re having?” Tara asked, “Because I need a reason to go shopping.”

Chad rolled his eyes, “You always have a reason to go shopping.”

“We won’t find out until after the wedding, but I think we want to announce our pregnancy then,” you smiled, looking over to Ethan as he nodded.

“Let me know what I can do to help once you guys decide what you want to do,” Tara said, taking one last look at the pictures before she handed them back to you.

“I will.”

A month later, you stopped by Tara’s to try your dress on to see if it still fit.

“Fuck,” you said, as she tried to zip the back. It wouldn’t budge above your waist. “What am I going to do now?” you sighed, looking at her in the mirror of her bedroom.

“We can get it altered. We’re cutting it close though, and we still don’t know how big you’ll be on your wedding day,” she said, as panic started to set in for her, too. “The bridal shop is open today; I’ll call them to see if their seamstress can fix it.”

As Tara paced on the phone, you really thought you were going to have to buy a whole new dress, until she screamed “Yes! Thank you so much!”

She ended the call before walking up to you, “Okay, we have to take it in right now, but they believe they can put something into the sides of the dress that will make it a little stretchy.”

“Thank god,” you said, sliding the dress off and putting it back on the hanger.

When you arrived at the bridal store, the seamstress took new measurements and used her experience with other brides in similar situations to decide what to do.

“This won’t be ready for a few weeks, but I assure you that you’ll have it before your wedding,” she said, as you sighed in relief.

“Thank you so much!” you said, “You’ll call me when it’s ready?”

“As soon as I finish it, I’ll call you in so you can try it on,” she said, as you nodded.

You were still stressed, but you were hopeful that you’d still be able to wear the dress.

After a few weeks went by, you got the call to come look at your dress. As you tried it on, and the seamstress zipped it, it fit perfectly.

“Thank you so much!” you smiled, “I didn’t doubt you, but I know I’m a little bigger now, so I wasn’t sure if that would work.”

“You’re lucky I have experience with this,” she laughed, helping you back out of the dress.

“You can’t even tell I’m pregnant!”

The day before your wedding, Tara and Chad helped you and Ethan get everything set up in the venue. The boys were in the corner decorating the arch because they were tall enough to do so, as Tara helped you decorate the tables.

“This is so cute!” she said, looking at the burnt orange cheesecloth table runners were draped across the tables.

“It’ll look even better after the florist delivers the flowers tomorrow morning. The red and orange roses are really going to make everything pop.”

Ethan walked over to look at what you and Tara were working on. “I hate to rush you, but we have to start the rehearsal soon,” he said, “But these tables look amazing, babe.”

When he kissed the top of your head, you heard a squeal come from the main entrance.

“Hey, guys!” Quinn said, as she walked in. Ethan ran up to hug her before she came over to you. “Are you excited? Because you’re totally glowing.”

“Yeah, I am,” you smiled, glancing down at your oversized t-shirt. It’s taken everything in you to not put your hands on your belly whenever you were around anyone the didn’t already know you were pregnant.

“Thank you for asking me to be a part of your day tomorrow,” she smiled, “So we’re staying at Tara’s tonight?”

“Yeah, we’re having a slumber party,” Tara laughed, joining the conversation. “It’s bad luck for the bride to see the groom before the wedding.” You and Ethan both rolled your eyes at the superstition, “Hey, I want you two to last forever.”

“We will,” Ethan said, pulling you into a kiss.

“Gross,” you heard Mindy yell as she walked into the door. Anika was right behind her, the excitement evident on her face as she looked around the room.

“Wow, this is gorgeous,” she said, as they walked up to you.

“My people are here, where’s the rest of yours?” you asked Ethan, remembering him wanting to start the rehearsal.

“They’re on the way,” he sighed, as Chad started to yell for his help. “I’ll be right back.”

You laughed as they were struggling to get the lacy orange and red fabric to stay on the arch, along with the few fake flower decorations you got from the craft store.

“This isn’t funny,” Ethan said, trying to fight his own laughter as Chad started to get pissed.

The other two of Ethan’s groomsmen walked in and greeted you before walking over to Ethan and Chad to help.

“How many men does it take to hang some fabric and fake flowers?” Quinn questioned, watching the scene unfold in front of her.

“I don’t know, but hopefully the answer is four, because that’s all we’ve got,” you laughed, as the guys started to cheer.

“Ooh, they finally got it,” Mindy said, wrapping her arm around Anika as she giggled.

The officiant, DJ, and wedding coordinator were ready to go when Ethan walked up to you.

“You ready to fake marry me?” he asked, grabbing your hand.

“Yeah, let’s get this over with. I’m starting to get sleepy,” you sighed, as Ethan nodded. Your newest pregnancy symptom was extreme tiredness, but you’d take that over being nauseous.

“Okay, we’ll be doing this outside tomorrow, but because it’s raining, we have to do it inside tonight,” the wedding coordinator said, “I want to make this as painless as possible.”

Ethan followed the bridesmaids and groomsmen down the aisle, standing on his side as the music started for you to walk down the aisle. You took your time as you were instructed, finally making it to Ethan.

He started to laugh a little, as you rolled your eyes. “You’re laughing now, but if you don’t cry when you see me in my dress tomorrow, I’ll walk down this aisle a hundred times.”

“Sorry, this is a little awkward,” he said, grabbing your hand as the officiant started to speak.

He started to go through his spiel, skipping over the vows you and Ethan were going to recite for each other and the ‘I now pronounce you husband and wife’ part.

“Are we done yet?” you asked through a yawn, the tiredness being too much.

“Did you want to look at the slideshow tonight, or no?” the DJ asked as he pointed at the projection screen.

“No!” you and Ethan both said at the same time, knowing that the last slide was the one announcing your pregnancy.

“I think it’ll be fine to wait until tomorrow,” Ethan said, wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

“Okay, cool. We’re done, then,” he said, shutting his laptop.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, baby,” Ethan said, turning to you. He leaned down to kiss you when your friends walked up.

“We need to get her out of here,” Tara said, as you pulled away from the kiss. Ethan subtly rubbed his hand over your tummy, which he’d done every single night before bed since you found out you were pregnant.

“I love you,” he said, as Tara grabbed your hand to pull you away.

“I love you, too!”

When you made it back to Tara’s, you were struggling to keep your eyes open as everyone sat around and talked. You finally excused yourself to the guest bedroom, falling asleep the second your head hit the pillow.

The next morning, you woke up before everyone else. You showered and ordered coffee before you snuck into Tara’s room to grab your dress out of the closet. When the coffee arrived, you were debating on peacefully waking everyone up, but decided on yelling.

“I’m ready to get married, wake up!” Your voice echoed off the walls of the house as you heard Mindy groan in the living room. Tara soon turned the corner, grabbing her drink out of the holder.

“Thanks for the coffee,” she said, as you took a sip of yours. “Are you supposed to be drinking that?”

“It’s decaf,” you sighed, “It’s not as good but it’ll get me through the day.”

She nodded as everyone else walked into the kitchen.

“Someone’s excited,” Quinn smiled, “I can’t believe I’m getting a sister-in-law today!”

She pulled you into a hug, “I hope I got your coffee order right. I was trying to remember it from college.”

“No, this is perfect,” she said, taking a sip.

“We have to be at the venue in two hours,” you said, looking around at everyone’s tired expressions. “Can you guys get ready soon?”

“I expected the bridezilla antics to start before now,” Mindy said, sarcasm in her tone as you glanced over to her.

“I just don’t want to be late,” you sighed, as Quinn remembered something.

“I don’t know if you’re doing the normal wedding traditions, but,” she said, running to her bag in the living room, “I’d love it if you’d wear this.” She opened a jewelry box, showing you a beautiful diamond necklace. “This belonged to Ethan and I’s grandmother.”

“Oh my god, Quinn! This is gorgeous!” You were in awe, the sweet gesture showing you how excited she was for you to be a part of her family. “I’d love to wear it.”

“I hoped you’d say that. I know it would mean a lot to Ethan.”

After everyone finally got ready, you headed to the venue. Tara ran into the main building, looking around for Ethan.

“You! Stay right there for the next five minutes,” she said as she saw him, before running back to the car.

Ethan laughed to himself at her determination to keep you from being seen by him as he helped the florist finish decorating the tables.

“Okay, we gotta move,” Tara said, grabbing stuff out of the trunk of her car as you walked through the back entrance to the bridal suite.

You hung your dress up and waited for the rest of your friends to make it inside.

“Geez, T. What is all of this?” Mindy asked, sitting one of the heavy plastic bins down on the floor.

“It’s all the stuff to get our beautiful bride ready,” she groaned out, setting down another box.

“I think the key word is beautiful, which she already is…she doesn’t need all this shit,” Mindy said, opening the tote to look inside. “Wait, what’s up with these favors?”

“Don’t look at those!” Tara said, as Mindy eyed her suspiciously.

“What’s going on?” she asked, as Anika and Quinn made it in with the rest of the stuff.

“Those are another set of favors we’re giving out after,” Tara said, looking over to you.

“What do you mean?” she asked, as you tried to discreetly change into something that wouldn’t mess up your hair and makeup after it was finished. “Wait, what the fuck?”

Mindy walked over to you as Quinn and Anika were showing off the dress styles they chose in your colors.

“Are you pregnant?” she whispered, taking in the way your lower abdomen was sticking out.

“Mindy, please don’t say anything to anyone,” you said, motioning with your eyes to your other friends, “We’re announcing it today.”

“Wait, seriously?” she asked, as you started to laugh.

“Are you going to keep asking questions?” You whispered as you smiled, “Ethan and I wanted to get pregnant. It happened quicker than I thought it would, but this was always the plan.”

“Oh, well congratulations,” she said, trying to hide her excitement.

“Why are you congratulating her?” Anika asked, as she walked up to join in the conversation.

“She’s getting married, babe, duh.”

When Tara helped you get ready, you could tell she was trying hard not to cry. She was so happy for you, and knowing how much Ethan loved you made it hard for her to keep her emotions in. You felt awkward trying to talk to her as Chad’s friend came in to snap pictures of everyone getting ready.

“Thank you for doing this for me, Tara,” you said, as she finished up your hair.

“You think I’d let just anyone glam you up for your special day?” she asked, spraying a thick cloud of hairspray over your head.

“You know there’s a lot of chemicals in that, right?” you laughed as her eyes went wide.

“I’m so sorry!”

“It’s okay, I just wanted to distract you. You’ve been fighting tears since I sat down in the chair,” you said, as she started to let them slip out.

“I’m just so happy for you,” she said, as she started to put primer on your face.

“Well, just know that when Chad proposes someday, I’ll do the exact same stuff for you that you’ve done for me. I’m so thankful for our friendship.”

“I think that’s coming sooner rather than later…” she trailed off as you stared at her.

“Okay, spill. What’s going on?” you asked, as she shook her head.

“Today’s your day. We can talk about it after the honeymoon.”

“No, tell me! I don’t care what day it is,” you said, laughing.

“Well, I found a receipt for a jewelry store when I was doing Chad’s laundry the other day,” she said, as you cut her off.

“You’re doing wifey shit, but continue,” you said, as she started to blush.

“It was for a ring. So, unless he’s buying it for someone else, I’m pretty sure he wants to marry me.”

You started to squeal as she shushed you.

“Sorry, I’m just so happy for you!”

After your makeup was done, and you helped everyone else get ready, Tara was about to kick everyone out when Quinn ran up to you.

“I’m leaving, but I wanted to give you this,” she said, handing you the jewelry box with the necklace in it.

“Wait, I think you should help me put it on.”

She smiled as she took it out of the box and put it around your neck, clasping it in the back. The photographer started snapping pictures of the sweet moment. She was trying not to cry as she looked at you wearing it. “Thank you for being so good to my brother. I know he’s a little dorky, but you really brought him out of his shell. He’s never been this happy.”

You felt your own eyes start to water as you fanned your face with your hands, trying to keep the tears in. “Thank you, Quinn.”

You hugged her before she went out to join Mindy and Anika in the reception area of the venue.

“Let’s get your dress on,” Tara said, grabbing it off the hanger.

“Is it bad that I’m nervous it wont fit even though it did a week ago,” you sighed, unbuttoning your shirt and sliding your leggings down.

“It will, don’t stress,” she said, as you stepped inside the dress.

“See, still fits,” she smiled after she got it zipped.

“Are you ladies almost ready?” The wedding coordinator asked, as she walked in

“Yes,” you said, slipping your heels on. “Is he ready?”

She started to laugh at your question, “Honey, that man’s been ready for over an hour. His best man was in there…what do you kids call it…hyping him up?”

You started to laugh, “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

“Well, if you’re ready, I’ll let them know that we can begin,” she said, looking you over in your dress. “You look gorgeous.”

“Gorgeous enough to make the groom cry?” you asked, as she nodded.

“He’s already cried a couple times,” she said, walking out of the room.

Tara looked at you and stuck her lip out at the fact that Ethan was so emotional.

“Aww, that’s so sweet!” she said, helping you put your veil on.

“I’m hoping these pregnancy hormones don’t get the best of me today. I don’t want to mess all your hard work up,” you said, fanning your face again.

“That’s what setting spray is for,” she said, giving your face a second coat of it. “Just in case.”

The coordinator came back in the room to grab you as you heard the music start to play.

“I know this is a little different than last night, but you’re just going to walk down the path to the arch,” she said, as Tara walked past you to join the rest of the bridesmaids.

“I love you,” she said, “Don’t be nervous.”

After everyone cleared out, you waited for your cue.

“Alright, sweetheart. This is all you,” she said, gently nudging you towards the door.

As you walked out, you noticed all the people standing, and couldn’t help but think about falling in front of all of them. The second Ethan was in your line of vision, and he covered his face as he started to cry, it gave you all the confidence you needed to make it to him.

You noticed that Tara and Quinn were trying so hard to keep it together, and Chad too. He was just so happy for his best friend. You smiled at him as Ethan pulled his hands away from his face.

“So beautiful,” he said, wiping away the tears that just kept slipping out. Chad reached over to pat him on the back as you made it to the end of the path, standing across from him.

As the officiant started to speak, your breath hitched in your throat. You were trying so hard not to cry, but you knew you were going to lose that battle once you and Ethan read your vows.

“The bride and groom have written their own vows. We’ll start with you,” he said, turning to Ethan.

“I didn’t write anything down, because I wanted to speak from the heart,” he said, laughing a little, “I love everything about you, from the way you look when you first wake up, to the way you argue with me over the remote. You’re my best friend, my soulmate. You’re everything I could’ve ever wanted and more in a partner. You were patient with me when I was shy and didn’t know how to talk to you when we first met. Now, I’m a more confident person because of the man you’ve helped me become. I’m so happy I get to spend the rest of my life with you. I love you.”

Tears were slipping out, as hard as you tried to fight it, before the officiant turned to you.

“I also didn’t write my vows down,” you giggled, “but I guess that’s what makes us so special. I’m so thankful for you. When you finally asked me to be yours, I never had a doubt in my mind that we wouldn’t last forever. You say that I boosted your confidence, but you helped mine so much. I don’t worry about what people think of me, because I know the one that truly matters is always in my corner, no matter what. I know we can make it through anything the universe throws at us, as long as I have you by my side. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I’m so happy that I get to be your wife. I’m so happy that you chose me. I love you, too.”

Ethan nodded as he fought off the tears again. You almost missed everything your officiant was saying, because you were so focused on him.

“If there are no objections, by the power vested in me by the state of New York, I now pronounce you husband and wife,” he announced, before turning to Ethan, “You gonna kiss your bride or not?”

Everyone started to laugh as Ethan leaned in, his hands going to your hips as he kissed you.

Cheers erupted from your guests as he lifted you off the ground before gently sitting you back down. That’s when he noticed the necklace.

“Babe, is this…”

“Your grandmothers,” you said, finishing his thought. He started to tear up all over again.

He looked over to Quinn and mouthed ‘thank you’ before he took your hand and walked you back up the aisle.

You were quickly whisked away by the photographer, who wanted to get some beautiful shots of you and Ethan in the wooded area on the edge of the venue. The red and orange accents in his suit and boutonniere looked beautiful against the orange and yellow leaves.

“Can I have a minute with her?” Ethan asked the photographer. He nodded, stepping back a few yards but still snapping a few photos as the two of you talked. “You look so beautiful, and your vows were beautiful.”

“Yours were too, babe,” you said, standing on your tippy toes to kiss him.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, rubbing his hand across the well-hidden bump.

“I feel great right now. Hopefully I won’t be too tired later,” you smiled, as he took your hand in his and walked towards the photographer.

“Well, Mrs. Landry, let’s go to the party,” he said, as you smiled.

“I like the sound of that…Mrs. Landry.”

“Well good, because you’re stuck with me forever.”

When you made it back inside the venue, you immediately went into your first dance. The slideshow started, and it was perfectly timed out to the music as your arms were around Ethan’s neck. It showed pictures of the two of you as kids, before moving on to the pictures the two of you had taken as a couple. As you saw the engagement photos, you knew what the next one would be as the music stopped. You and Ethan both turned towards the screen as the picture of your sonogram popped up, with the words ‘Baby Landry coming soon’.

The gasps were audible, before everyone started to clap for the two of you. That’s when the DJ invited everyone else out to the dance floor to join you and Ethan.

“Wait, you’re pregnant?! That’s why you’re glowing!” Quinn said, looking down at your stomach, “I’m going to be an aunt!”

She was squealing, so excited for you, but also, her new title. “This dress is hiding it well. I’m sixteen weeks along,” you said, rubbing your hands across your belly.

“No way! Well, I guess I’ll be moving back to New York,” she smiled, “I’m not missing all the important moments of this baby’s life.”

“What about the guy you’re seeing?” you asked, as she rolled her eyes.

“I’ll make him come with me.”

After the wedding was winding down, the tiredness fully started to kick in.

“You okay?” Chad asked, as Ethan mingled with the guests.

“Yeah, just exhausted,” you sighed, as he looked at the ground.

“When you two get back from Mexico, I kind of need your help with something,” he said, flashing a smile.

“Oh?” you asked, waiting for him to say more. He glanced over to Tara, who was laughing at something Mindy said.

“Yeah, I hope this is okay because Ethan suggested that I talk to you tonight before you leave…but I’m going to ask Tara to marry me.”

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #scream

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mvlders222 · 4 months

Note

hii, could you write about Natalie scatorccio and a reader with anxiety problems?

I know it's a sensitive topic and I will understand if you don't want to write about this.

(sorry if I don't express myself well, English is not my native language)

a/n; hi!! thank you for the request. i hope i wrote this well and to your liking. reader's gender is female. i have a handful of people in my life with clinical anxiety, but i also did my research before diving into this topic. if the way i describe these feelings isn't accurate, please let me know so i can edit/rewrite this fic.

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥

pairing ; natalie scatorccio x fem!reader

wordcount ; 1.1k

summary ; nat invites you to one more party, and you typically never accept. she reasons that this would be the last one before your guys’ flight tomorrow for nationals. this however doesn’t seem to go as planned…

warnings ; anxiety, overthinking, sorta angst to fluff, alcohol, underage drinking, mention of smoking (let me know if there's any more!)

You and Natalie had been dating for two months now. And you knew each other even earlier than that. But throughout your time knowing her, she had never not invited you to any event whether it be a smoke sesh or a bonfire.

And you had always turned her down. This wasn’t your way of rejecting her, but it wasn’t exactly your crowd. You could only conjure up the most ridiculous and almost impossible situations that would happen because you just showed up in a social setting.

Your guys’ first date in your backyard where you guys shared a pizza and your first kiss (probably not a good kiss with the pizza). The point was that it was in the privacy of your own home.

You know Nat would never force you to do anything you wouldn’t want to do. But considering how she felt going to these parties without you, you decided you finally show. So she came to your house minutes before the party to help you prepare.

There you stood in front of your mirror, Natalie behind you looking at your guys’ reflection. She had her hands on your shoulders and smiled at you through the mirror.

She was dressed in a leather jacket and worn in Doc Martins. She had a red pleated skirt and ripped fishnets and a plethora of rings adorned her fingers. She had smudged eyeliner around her eyes but it was meant to look like that.

You were simply wearing a long sleeve since it was chilled out. A pair of thrifted jeans that were your favorite pair, despite them already being worn.

“Are you ready?” She smiled at you and you nodded. She kissed your cheek and grabbed your hand to drag you out of your bedroom and your house.

It wasn’t a far walk, just further out into the woods so you both walked there, hand in hand.

“Have you ever been to one of these before?” Nat smirked. It wasn’t mean, it was a genuine question. “You just never wanna come with me when I offer.”

“Not really to any parties. I’ve been to the football games but I never have any fun there,” you shrugged. You were the type to stay in and enjoy a movie, rather than agree with people who speak in majority filler words. It was exhausting to try and find any way to talk to these people without absolutely crumbling.

“I thought it’d be nice though. Since we leave tomorrow,” you smiled. You looked at the dead leaves on the ground as the two of you walked together.

As you got closer and closer to the bonfire, you could see the light and hear a mix of chatter, laughter, and music. A heavy feeling started to settle in your stomach, but you tried to push it down because what would Nat think if you wanted to turn around?

When you started to catch up with people and run into the couples sucking faces, it was like a middle school dance. People were spread out across the woods, but no one was dancing to the music. All talking in their small groups, holding red solo cups full of something.

“I’m gonna go find a keg.” Natalie let your hand go and walked away from you, walking through different circles of people to find a buzz.

You tried following her, but her trail was too spontaneous. She would push people apart from each other, even when they were invested in a full-on conversation. She would split trees and walk through bushes.

So afraid of losing her, you weren’t paying attention to the others around you, mumbling different “sorry”s to several strangers. Maybe you had been paying too much attention to the people around you and that’s how you lost your girlfriend in the crowds.

You couldn’t ask anyone for help, they seemed to look at you like you snuck onto earth. Whether it was the anxiety or the plethora of circles you’d made searching for Natalie, your nausea was starting to set in.

Your stomach was tied in knots and you suddenly felt like you couldn’t move. Your breathing became shallow. The lights were too bright and the music was too loud, it was hard to even think in a setting like this.

An unexpected hand grasped at your shoulder and tugged you around. Trying not to fall over your own feet, you grabbed at anything physical in front of you.

Your eyes came into focus. “Natty!” You let out what felt like the last breath you’d ever take. You pulled her toward you in a great embrace. You felt a splash at your feet and arms wrap around you hesitantly.

“Baby, I’m so sorry,” she apologized earnestly. You both pulled away slightly. “I completely forgot and I feel like a complete jerk-“

“You dropped your beer,” you interrupted her. Your monotone made her smile and laugh. It was something so simple that didn’t compare to the situation that was happening.

“I hadn’t even noticed.” She smiled and pecked the corner of your lips. She looked down at your hand and held it gently with her own, toying with the tips of your fingers. Looking back up to meet your eyes, her face became soft. “Do you wanna go?”

You took a deep breath and looked at her as if she had confused you for someone else. “No, it’s okay! But if you wanna stay. I’ll just go–”

She quickly shushed you and held your face in her hands. “Shh, baby… I love you more than some… party.” She giggled at the situation.

“Are you sure? Have you even talked to your friends yet?” All of your questions made her shut you up again, pressing her lips to yours, trying to get you to stop mumbling into your kiss.

She pulled away and gave you a knowing look. You just replied with a small smile on your lips. Natalie furrowed her brows as she licked her lips once over. “Is that cherry?”

“Yeah, it came in, like, a pack of four.” You giggled in response to her behavior.

“That gives us one more reason to leave,” She moved her hands to grab yours, pulling you away from the rest of the party. “We have to try all of them. If they’re as good as they taste, ya know.”

#natalie scatorccio x reader #yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #natalie scatorccio x you #natalie scatorccio x fem!reader #natalie scatorccio fanfic #natalie scatorccio #yellowjackets x female!reader #yellowjackets fanfic #fanfic

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gingerjunhan · 7 months

Text

xdinary heroes and the texts you wake up to

☆彡 Could this have been an smau? Yes. Do smau’s frustrate me to no end? Also yes. Oops. There needs to be an easier way to make those I swear

word count: 745 | pronouns used: none | genre: fluff, established relationship | cws: mentions of food (Heyongjun), lmk if I missed something

goo gunil

hello my love ❤️

I hope you had a good day today

I can’t wait to talk to you tomorrow :)

he won’t text too much because he knows you deserve your rest 🫶🏻

no matter how late it is you KNOW Gunil is checking in on you to make sure you had a good day

he doesn’t care if you’re asleep and you won’t see the message until the next day, he just wants to check in

he also has it worked down to a science that if you’re still awake when he messages you, you probably had a bad day

no matter how late it is he is always willing to help you through a bad day, or just talk to you about your normal day

even if nothing exciting happened, he wants to hear all about it

good night sunshine:) dream of me

I’m sorry I needed to picture that I’m blushing rn

kim jungsu

hi honey :) we just got done at the studio. today was so looooong!!

one simple text

a mini debrief, if I may

if he feels clingy I think he would send you multiple shorter messages

hi baby :)

I miss you

how was your day today?

I can’t wait to hear all about it

I love you

definitely makes your phone vibrate too much and then he feels bad for waking you

I also feel like if Jungsu is feeling clingy he will call you the second he sees you typing a reply

he just loves you so much and he wants to hear your voice :(

kwak jiseok

HI BABEEYYY ❤️❤️❤️

missed you today!

we just got home from work and I’m SO TIREDDD

call me in the morning!!

love you!! ❤️

so excited that he finally gets the chance to message you

if you text him back get ready for a play-by-play of his entire day

but don’t worry he will be just as attentive to your day as you are to his

if you feel too tired to text about your day he’ll offer to call you and stay on the phone until you fall asleep

he will tell you he loves you so. many. times. over the course of this conversation

work = time away from you = sad Jiseok

oh seungmin

hello baby

how was your day?

sorry if you’re asleep rn haha

simple, to the point

he totally sends you ootds every day, so you might also wake up to an ootd

he won’t get mad if you don’t respond because nine times out of ten if you respond he misses it because he’s asleep 💀

if he does catch a response he’s so excited!

did you have a good day? tell me all about it!

I can’t wait to see you baby

I missed you so much

I feel like Seungmin might not text much because he definitely prefers calling

he can’t rizz you up with texts as well as he can with his voice 😼

han hyeongjun

hi hi hiii

did you have a good day?

look what we had for lunch today

(attachment: 1 image)

if you don’t think you’d get a food haul from Hyeongjun every day you’re wrong

his sleep schedule is honestly so horrible that he would probably sleep through half of your texts the next morning/afternoon so he doesn’t mind when you do it to him

much like Jungsu, I can see him getting clingy over text?

his bubble messages from the other day inspired this whole fic, I just need y’all to know that

you can tell he really missed you if he pulls out the nicknames

I missed you today <3

I’m going to go practice some more

sleep well baby

lee jooyeon

hi :)

are you awake?

I missed you today

can you call?

Jooyeon also prefers calling in my opinion

he just wants to hear your voice :(

if you’re too tired to call but you respond to his text, he will literally stay on the phone with you until he’s too tired to keep typing

guess what happened at work today!

what did you do today?

did you do anything fun today?

are you busy tomorrow? I want to see you :(

a million questions

if it was up to Jooyeon you would come to work with him every single day so you didn’t have to leave his side

I am a firm believer that this man wants to spend every second of every day with you and he would never get bored of you ever

#xdinary heroes x reader #xdinary heroes imagine #xdh x reader #xdh imagines #xdh fluff #xdh scenarios #ot6

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oonajaeadira · 1 year

Text

For the Love of Fic: May 1

We made it to May!!! I’m finally feeling like I’m catching up on some stuff and a lot of that is reading. Thank you to some really lovely writers for the amazing fic I read this week....

🪐 = Year of Themed Creations work!

FRANKIE MORALES

untitled by @intheorangebedroom Holy holy balls, this kinky fic came out of nowhere and just slapped my my ass into tomorrow. Competency kink, hand-on-the-stick kink... this one goes into my permanent re-read library. Geezuz I am compromised. But I also love the complete package made of Frankie here. He’s still sweet and unassuming, but when he shows his skills, he does so confidently and I’m SWOONING.

DIN DJARIN

Competing For Christmas 8: Every Year, Every Christmas by @something-tofightfor The feels in this fic are so so good and every time there’s a new chapter I just swoon for more. We’re almost at the end now, and there are partings to be made and things to be said and Boba Fett is a GD king (in more ways than one). I love how Rachael has woven the Mando characters into this series and all I want now is to teach Din how wonderful a Christmas tree truly can be...

The Shallow by @insomniamamma 🪐 When J does angst she makes it more beautiful than I want it to be. Her hurt is exquisite and the love that shines in the middle of it is even brighter. At the same time, this story taps into my primal fear of space and what it can do and the laws of physics that aren’t worth tampering with. And yet...in the midst of fear and regret...that kiss is so so soft....

Crash Into Me by @grogusmum What if Din’s home species has A/B/O dynamics and he never got to learn much about them before he was taken away and then learns suddenly one day that he’s an alpha? This. This is what happens. Without being brought up in an alpha-dominated society, he may have learned other values...soft ones...

PERO TOVAR

Anytime, Anyplace, Anywhere by @littlemisspascal I love that when the reader gets into trouble the first thing that goes through her head is an insurance jingle. And I love that it has unexpected consequences. And I love that part of the consequences is Pero in a leather jacket. Yes plz.

Wait No Longer by @lowlights I am going to be thinking about Pero going down on me in a semi-public place for a good week after this. Damn.

DIETER BRAVO

Warm Up by @ezrasbirdie I love love love this soft smutty little interlude. So much. Why can’t it be me. Imagine being the woman Dieter’s madly in love with and just showing up on set in Dieter’s trailer and immediately passing out? How do you think the disaster pancake would wake you up? Correct. Go get it.

JACK DANIELS

You’re the Fire by @writeforfandoms Do I love Jen’s dragonrancher Jack series? Hells yes I do. Things are ramping up now and we’ve got Harry and Merlin coming into the mix and getting ready to do the Golden Circle dirty. But first, Eggsy the awkward teen dragon kind of has my whole heart...

JOEL MILLER

Letters and Sketches Part 1 and Part 2 by @never--doubt 🪐 I can’t even imagine how painful it would be to find your soulmate and then lose them for 20 years. I don’t know how I’d go on. But if it happened to me, I’d hope the reunion would be something like this...

Touch Memory by @omgreally Just a short moment, a lovely, needed, smutty moment with Joel, giving him his first go after Tess. It’s what he needs, and you both enjoy it. I know I did.

TIM ROCKFORD AND THE THIEF

The Rockford Twins (prelude) by @beecastle !!!! I’m so so so excited for this premise! Tim and the Thief (Thomas Rockford) are twin brothers and complete opposites. I love so much that Bee sets us up for some flopped expectations, but also a sibling rivalry that is old and intense. If this is just the prelude, I cannot wait to see what’s to come!!

JAVI GUTIERREZ

Saying I Love You Through a Movie by @songsformonkeys 🪐 I have long missed Javi and his bodyguard and they’re back!!! As usual, the pining is sweet, Javi is sweeter, and the need to protect him is strong. So strong that reader bodyguard really can’t allow themselves to give into any of Javi’s sweetness for fear of not being able to protect him...but how to resist??? I LOVE THEM SO MUCH.

EZRA

Slow by @haylzcyon I can’t explain to you the chokehold this fic has on me. It’s one thing to be the girl Ezra just regularly uses with such cocky confidence, but to watch him adjust to your request--to “fuck me like you love me”--I don’t know what to say. It’s exquisite, masterful smut, with complicated and twisting feelings lurking just beneath the surface in the most intricate patterns. Holy balls. My lands. THE VAPORS.

GUEST OF HONOR

DEATH (SANDMAN)

Death Kindly Stopped For Me by @blueeyesatnight I want you to take a moment, find somewhere quiet, and read this fic. Death has not come to do her job, but still comes when you call, when you are lonely and sick and miserable and think she is what you need. But she’s learned from humans and expanded her services, and tonight she’s come for another thing she is so good at...comfort. It’s so beautiful. My heart just loves this piece.

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angelaiswriting · 2 years

Text

Stage Love | Park Joong-gil

✏️ Pairing: (kind of eventual?) Park Joong-gil x fem!reader (mentions of fwb!Lim Ryung-gu x fem!reader, mentions of past Park Joong-gil x Koo Ryeon)

✏️ Summary: it’s supposed to be just work, but what happens when you actually start falling for the Park Joong-gil?

✏️ A/N: this is what happens when @kind-wolf goes on a tangent with some random AU and I dish out The Sex 😂 I also hope this drama actually has a fandom :’) (I also did go on a tangent with this, so it’ll have a part two hopefully soon.)

✏️ Content Warnings: modern!AU, singer!AU + fluff (I guess), slowburn, and smut, so 18+ only. Fwb stuff, fingering f/r, oral m/r and f/r, dry-humping, female masturbation, alcohol, food ? PJG is one sexy mf and everyone falls for him. [If I missed anything, just lmk.]

✏️ Word Count: 21k

✏️ Extra: I actually saw this on IG a few days ago and thought it’d fit well with this fic. Worth checking out imo 👀

PART ONE >> part two | part three

The surge of post-performance adrenaline is still rushing through your veins when you plop down onto the back seat of Joong-gil’s van. All the dancing on stage, rubbing into him in some parts of the choreography, the flashing lights, the audience – it all has you wired and buzzing, ready to take on anything the rest of the night might throw your way.

What’s even better, your manager has given you the night off to celebrate the foreseen (albeit still unbelievable) success of your new collab stage with one of the most wanted solo singers of Korea’s music scene, and his manager is currently standing outside the car, getting the last recommendations before you’re off for the night.

“You did well tonight,” Park Joong-gil says, sliding in and sitting down next to you.

He’s already making quick work of buckling his seatbelt when you correct, “we did well,” with a grin on your face. Despite the subtle scent of the still-lingering petrichor, you’re still so wired that your body doesn’t even register the chilly air blowing into the van in the few seconds it takes your fellow artist to pull the door closed. “I mean, after all these months I knew tonight’s performance would be awesome, but I wasn’t expecting for the fans to love it so much!” You’re pumped, barely able to put one thought after the other as you grin up at him.

Next to you, he chuckles low under his breath. “Yeah, well, that makes two of us.”

You don’t even have the chance to see him miraculously half-smile: you’re bowing your head and waving goodbye to your manager, the bracelets on your wrist clinking against each other, and nodding when she gestures a ‘call me when you’re home’. She can’t hear you from inside the van, but she does catch on to you giving her the thumbs up.

“So, do you have any place in mind to go celebrate or can I pick one?” Joong-gil presses on, turning around to pick one of his hoodies from the rack in the back. The adrenaline will wear off sooner rather than later, and he doesn’t want you catching a cold because of the light outfit you wore on stage.

“Your choice, I’m not picky,” you nod, typing a quick I’ll tell you everything tomorrow to let your mother know not to wait up for your call. She’s always been your number one fan, and despite the fact that she would have wanted for you to pick a more traditional career path, she’s always supported you more than anyone else ever did.

“Good, I know a place safe enough.”

You don’t have time to ask what he means by ‘safe’ – guessing wouldn’t be too hard, though, what with that stupid ten-line article assuming this collaboration stems from a secret relationship between the two of you and the few comments it managed to garner before both your and Joong-gil’s agencies had it deleted. You don’t have the time to ask, and that’s because he’s shoving his black hoodie into your lap a second before he impatiently knocks on the side window to catch his manager’s attention.

“I’m good, don’t worry.”

“Take it, Yun-ho won’t come with us. I can only take you back home on my bike, unless you’d rather get a cab.”

It’s then that his manager, Yun-ho, gets into the car and turns back around with a grin on his face.

“Jumadeung?” he simply asks as you’re left sitting there with Joong-gil’s hoodie in your lap.

It’s almost warm against the bare skin of your stomach, and you’re torn between the realization that this is the first time he’s shown some sort of care towards you outside of the studio in the long months of preparation that led to this comeback and the curiosity lying underneath the fact that you have no goddamn clue what a Jumadeung even is.

As it turns out, Jumadeung is the name of a bar located one story below Seoul in what, at first sight, looks very well like an abandoned building. If it wasn’t for Joong-gil being there with you and giving you a semblance of security, you would have run the other way.

The cul-de-sac Yun-ho steers into is a dark and narrow alleyway, and when you get out of the van right after Joong-gil, your boots stomping right into a puddle left behind by the early evening storm, you decide you don’t even want to know what’s at the end of it – rats? Seoul’s lowlife? Death reapers? Yeah, no thanks, you’ll happily pass.

The air really is chilly, however, and you’re suddenly glad you accepted Joong-gil’s offer of wearing his sweatshirt because now, underneath the thick cotton of it, you can feel gooseflesh tug at the hairs on your arms.

“Are you…” You turn around with a surprised gasp when you hear the sound of his van driving away, and you scurry forward until you’re childishly holding onto the back of Joong-gil’s leather jacket. “Are you secretly a serial killer?” you whisper, furtively looking around to mentally check for quick ways out.

Don’t accept candy from strangers and don’t get into strangers’ cars, you hear your mother scold you, twenty or so years ago, after you had just moved for the first time to a new house in Busan. Oh boy, if only she could see you now!

But Joong-gil chuckles, turning to look at you from above his right shoulder before he shakes his head in amusement.

“You know I have money. No need to kidnap me if you want it!” You keep the tone of your voice light and airy, and laugh – after all, you’ve mastered the art of coming off as though you have a hold of the situation – but you still suspiciously eye the closed dry-cleaner you spot as soon as you step foot into the building.

“I also do have money,” he laughs, taking a turn to the left to walk past an empty shop with a big ‘for sale’ sign on the dirty glass door. “Our collab will bring me more than kidnapping you might. So…”

“Of course, I was just kidding,” you shrug, letting go of his jacket and taking a few quick steps so that you can walk side by side with him. That’s not very reassuring is what you were on the verge of saying but you manage to bite your tongue and get a grip on yourself. Nevertheless, there’s still a spark of uneasiness twisting your insides into knots when he starts walking down a dimly lit set of stairs.

You’re almost tempted to just turn around and bolt your way out of there, but you didn’t exactly pay attention to your surroundings on the way here and you wouldn’t know which way to go before he catches up to you. After all, you were too preoccupied with texting back to your closest friends and confirming to your manager that yes, you’re gonna be safe and that yes, you’re gonna stay glued to Joong-gil’s side like a mussel to a rock, so she really has nothing to worry about.

Well, think again.

The man in question looks up at you from the bottom of the staircase when he notices you haven’t been following him and you see the way he tries his damndest not to snicker in your face. “C’mon down, I’m no serial killer.”

“Sounds exactly like something a serial killer would say,” you reply with fake laughter in your voice as you grab the railing with your left hand, just to immediately regret it when you feel how sickeningly sticky it is against your skin.

“Jumadeung’s just a bar,” he sighs, walking up three steps before stretching an arm out in your direction and making you feel like you’re being too dramatic. “Others like us come here for the privacy,” he continues. “Jade’s not exactly… keen on the paps and the whole ‘overstepping boundaries’ part of our job, so we’re good. No risk of other articles like that one.”

That one – he says it in a way that brings you back to when that article came out. The PR team of your agency managed to screencap it before they had it taken down in no time. Still, he was furious, and didn’t show up at meetings for a whole week and a half, leaving you to work in the studio alone. It made you wonder whether being caught up in a dating scandal with you really was that bad, but you managed to overcome that quickly enough. After all, you’re well aware of your worth. Always have been.

“Alright.” If he picks up on the uneasiness in your voice, he doesn’t show it.

Ah, fuck it! He has a cute-enough face, you think, trying to be reasonable and not let the true crime shows you watch in the dead of night on screen-share calls with your best friend in Busan get to you.

You walk down the steps and accept his outstretched hand, allowing him to pull you along with him. A swift turn to the right, and there’s a long corridor lit with what feels like hundreds of colorful fairy lights that lead closer and closer to the source of the faint music you can now hear. It’s like walking towards a portal to another dimension, the atmosphere in this corridor is completely different from that of the rest of the building – warm, peaceful, like there’s no safer place than this in Seoul.

“Okay, the whole bar story seems a lot more believable now,” you chuckle, forcing a smile to stretch on his lips in turn.

“See? Told ya,” he teases as he pulls the door open and the warmth of the bar wafts right into your face.

The music is louder here, but still at a reasonable volume that would allow you to have a comfortable conversation with him but probably not hear what the patrons sitting at other tables are saying.

“I’d go wash my hand if I were you, by the way. The rest of this building isn’t exactly famous for being clean,” he says, quickly letting go of your right hand all of a sudden.

His words don’t leave you the time to look around – not that you would have understood the reason behind that sudden lack of contact anyway – for your gaze shoots down to your left hand almost as though it’s a magnet. The skin of your palm still does feel sticky in the most uncomfortable way.

“Ew!”

You quickly walk down the side corridor he points out to dash into what you hope is a clean bathroom. And it really is. It’s a stark contrast with the rest of the building, or the very little part of it you’ve managed to get a glimpse of when you dramatically thought you were walking the last stretch to the gallows.

The foamy soap smells fruity when you start scrubbing your hands, and there are other fairy lights reflecting in the wall-sized mirror the counter with the sinks is standing against. The stalls behind you are a simple deep burgundy color and from how all doors are pushed open, you can see you’re alone in here. It gives you the time to finally breathe and get a good look at yourself in the mirror.

What was a perfectly clean make-up look at the beginning of the night, before your performance on stage, is now slightly smudged and lighter, but the fairy-dust glitter on your face is still there, glimmering underneath the blinking fairy lights. Joong-gil’s black hoodie perfectly matches with the black cargo pants they gave you for tonight’s stage – definitely not your favorite kind of outfit, but it is still very comfortable to dance in – and the black, vine-like (but unfortunately fake) tattoo slithering its way around your wrists all the way to the pulled-back sleeves around your elbows.

You’re dabbing your hands dry with paper towels when your phone vibrates in the pocket of your pants. When you unlock it, it’s your best friend asking for your whereabouts – and dusting off that crush you’ve always had on Park Joong-gil and that you had to hide ten thousand meters deep.

[11:47 PM] Bit-na 👯‍♀️: i know he’s famous and all, but if he’s a perv, i’m coming all the way to Seoul to kick his sexy sorry ass.

It makes you laugh – she’d probably be late to your death, but at least you know she’d have your back. She’s always had it, ever since you joined her ballet classes when you were a child up until you left Busan to pursue music.

[11:48 PM] you: proof i’m still alive!

You quickly shoot back, and while still chuckling, you attach a mirror selfie.

[11:48 PM] Bit-na 👯‍♀️: cool! but whose hoodie is that?! didn’t know you were into others’ merch.

[11:49 PM] you: yeah he took me to a nice bar in a shady building. i’ll update you when i’m back home! if ever lol

[11:50 PM] Bit-na 👯‍♀️: he? Park Joong-gil?!

Your reply is a quick yep, and you’re still laughing quietly when you sit down in the booth Joong-gil’s picked.

“Something happened back there?” he asks, picking up on your hilarity and leaning to the side to shoot a quick glance in the direction of the bar’s restrooms.

“Just my friend,” you shrug, taking your (his) sweatshirt off when the stuffiness of Jumadeung finally gets to you. “She thinks she’s funny,” you grin. “You’ve met her. Sort of. The one I was on a call with that day in the dance studio.”

He laughs. “Oh, yeah, I remember her. What was she asking? Something about you getting great head, no?”

His words – or probably more the fact that he actually remembers that embarrassing bit of the conversation when your phone accidentally connected back to the bluetooth system of the dance studio – take you so much by surprise that your hand jerks a little and spills some soju on the table by his glass.

You groan, filling your glass and turning your head to the side to bottom it up. “Damn, how the hell do you even remember that?” you manage to ask from behind your hands, currently hiding your burning face from him.

It was a late night two months into the two of you working together, after you both agreed to turn your one-song collab deal into a full album after seeing how flawlessly you worked together between songwriting, producing, and dancing. Joong-gil had gone down to the front desk to pick up your food delivery, and you had taken the opportunity to call Bit-na back after the three missed calls she had left on your phone that day.

Everything was going smoothly, with you asking her about her date and her asking you about… well, yours, even though it was more like a friendly hook-up than anything with actual feelings. It was then that Joong-gil had walked in, put the bags down onto the table, and accidentally touched something on the laptop you were using to play the music. His mistake had paired back your phone to the system after you had enabled it that afternoon, and the rest apparently became history when Bit-na’s cheerful, “I can’t believe you’re getting great head with him and I can’t even get a boyfriend” sounded all around the studio and you felt yourself being swallowed up by the floor as you watched Joong-gil’s back tense in the mirror for a moment before he let out a cackle.

After that night, you both silently agreed to never bring that accident up and, to say the truth, you had started to forget all about it. That is, well, until tonight.

“Hey, it’s all right!” Joong-gil chuckles, pulling your hands away from your face and handing you your refilled glass. “Drink up before you combust right in front of me.”

“God, I can’t believe you had to hear that, or that you even remember,” you groan, covering your eyes with one hand and clicking your tongue at the bitterness of your drink. “I hoped you’d have forgotten by now.”

He laughs again, careful not to be too loud, before he downs his soju. “Where did the sensual Y/N that danced and sang on that stage end up?”

You glare at him with mock annoyance before snorting. “I can be both sensual and embarrassed at the same time. One doesn’t necessarily cancel the other.”

He smirks, “fair enough.”

It’s silent for a heartbeat, and then there’s a middle aged woman – Jade, you assume after a while – standing by your table, wearing an apron around her waist that has a marble pattern printed on it in the hues of ivory and gold. “I saw your stage on tv,” she says, first glancing at Joong-gil and then at you from behind her sparkly glasses. “Joong-gil told me how great of a performer you were, but I was still pleasantly impressed,” she grins.

Blood rushes to your cheeks, but you want to brush it down to the warmth of the place, or to the fact that someone is complimenting you without going over the moon in the attempt to. It’d be unhealthy to think you’re flustered because he’s apparently spoken highly of you – or of you in general – to someone he knows, because that would bring back the first sparks of that crush you started to develop on him through all the time you’ve spent together for this new album – and even before that.

“Thank you,” you reply with a bow of your head, quickly glancing up at your friend before you notice the plate of chocolate cake the woman’s putting down on your table.

“He’s also mentioned you thought he was taking you to your death earlier,” she continues.

Her words make your head fall into your hands in the third attempt at hiding yourself tonight. “I’m really sorry. With how the building and the neighborhood look, I really thought-”

“It’s alright.” She’s chuckling, so you figure it’s not that bad, or at least that she hasn’t taken offense to that. “I know how the first impression can be. It’s part of the reason why no one knows about this place. People that need a hide-out find me through word-of-mouth, that’s what matters.”

You nod, not knowing what to say but thankful for her being so understanding, and she leaves.

“You really had to tell her, didn’t you?” you pout, picking up one of the golden spoons and digging into your shared slice of cake. You love a good source of chocolate after a performance that has made you stress out as much as tonight’s stage did: Joong-gil’s known for never doing collaborations, and you’ve been agonizing about the reaction his fans would have when you’d finally perform together live for the first time. You try to suppress the smile this cake brings onto your lips: you suddenly recall telling him of this sort of tradition you have, and you can’t believe he’s actually remembered. He seems to be particularly good at that when that realization starts making you feel dangerously warm inside.

He’s smiling when you look up at him, and for the first time you realize he’s never really smiled at you before. Sure, there have been tight smiles or smirks, or the photograph smiles he always puts on during photoshoots or interviews, but the way he’s smiling at you now makes you feel as though the butterfly you have tattooed on your wrist has moved all the way up your arm and down to your stomach, where it has gathered an army all of a sudden.

God, you think. Now you understand why everyone always swoons for him – the way his fans love him, the way interviewers love him, the way tv or youtube hosts love him. The reason why you started crushing on him. One smile from him and everything’s warm and fuzzy all of a sudden, like the rest of the world slows down to allow him time to shine.

His smile forces you to look at him for the first time since you’ve arrived at Jumadeung – his tousled hair, not as perfect as it was before your performance; the shadows his long lashes cast on his cheekbones; the way the hues of the fairy lights above dance along the bridge of his nose.

“She was simply complimenting your performance tonight, and it just came out. You gotta admit it was funny, the way you thought I’d kidnap you when I’m the one who pushed hard for this collab to happen in the first place,” he grins, shaking his head.

He’s fucking gorgeous. Now you can whole-heartedly agree with Bit-na and allow yourself to admit it. Not that you didn’t know before, of course! The dude is a fucking model; you’re sure he could have anyone or anything he wanted with a simple snap of his fingers. But you’ve always done your best to keep it very… professional – for lack of a better word – between the two of you. No touches out of line during dance practices, during all the time you’ve spent together to fine-tune your choreographies – and you must agree with him that there are a few that are more sensual than others. No lingering gazes in the studio, or during promotional photoshoots. Everything has always been clean and precise, like any other polished interactions you’ve had with fellow artists, stemming from nothing else but the sheer need to not be caught up in some rumor.

Tonight feels different, however. And you know it’s one-sided, but fuck. It’s the stupid atmosphere in this stupid bar, you decide. It’s cozy and private and extremely relaxed, with booths you can hide away in, and the fact that the paparazzi have never once found this place surely is a nice perk. It makes you believe that you’re on a date with him – on a date with fucking Park Joong-gil, of all people. That you’re just some normal girl out with some normal dude.

You shake your head, finding it extremely hilarious that your hormones would decide to go down that path now.

But you’ve been silent for long enough, and you don’t want to give the wrong impression. Like you’re mad, or like you’re starting to actually crush on him. So you level him with an amused stare and, “well, watch out then, Park. Next round’s mine, I’ll be embarrassing you.”

He chuckles at that promise, and you’re left there, grinning up at him like you’re a fangirl at a fan meet of his. Not that there’s anything wrong with that; you just want to be professional – you’ve always been, and there’s no reason why the frenzied hormones of a post-stage night should ruin that for you.

But then, just as you’re both back to digging into your cake, someone calls your name loud enough to be heard from the other end of the room. Your eyes snap up, and you see Joon-woong waving a hand in your direction.

You wave back, noticing the pink-haired woman and the dark-haired man sitting opposite him with their back to you. Ryeon and Ryung-gu – you could recognize them from miles away.

“The RMT guys are here,” you inform Joong-gil. “Looks like Joon-woong is inviting us to their table. Wanna go?”

You’re grinning, and your eyes are sparkling just as much as the light, dust-like glitter on your face, and of course you have no knowledge of any of that, but it strikes something inside him, punches him right in the guts. And fuck, he can’t say no when you look like that, like you’re some dream miraculously materialized in front of him. So, he begrudgingly nods and picks up your plate with the unfinished cake, and trails after you like a puppy.

Ryeon greets you with a smile, putting down her phone for a moment to congratulate you, but you miss the way she looks up at a Joong-gil who’s uncharacteristically standing awkwardly next to you, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. After quick bows of your heads, Joon-woong wraps you in a tight embrace, grinning at the way you’re finally not someone who turns down his hugs, and then sits back down to allow Joong-gil to sit on the chair next to him while you pull one from under the neighboring table.

“Hey,” you whisper as you lean into Ryung-gu, playfully pecking him on the cheek as he wraps an arm around your waist, giving your hip a quick squeeze. Maybe if you think a bit more about the kind of head he gave you on the few times you’ve met up for that, you won’t be acknowledging the weird way Joong-gil’s making you feel tonight.

After the introductions, it’s awkward at first, and you can’t exactly put a finger onto why. The RMT guys and Park Joong-gil have never been caught up in any scandal of any kind, not involving each other at least and not that you know of. And being signed for the same agency as they are, you’ve never heard of any tension or unfriendliness between them.

But then you’re not thinking about that anymore because you’re all talking. Well, you and Joon-woong are – you’ve always been the chatterboxes, after all – with Joong-gil and Ryung-gu chipping in every once in a while, and Ryeon listening more than she’s participating.

Joon-woong talks about your performance, the way both you and Joong-gil fired up both the stage and the audience, and how crazy everyone’s gone over the two of you on social media. From Instagram to Twitter, he’s been keeping an eye on it all. If your mother is your number one fan, then Choi Joon-woong is number two: he’s always been nothing but encouraging and supporting, even more so after you texted him about your collab with his very own idol, Park Joong-gil.

You’re sexy. He’s sexy. This is gonna be fucking bomb! – you remember him texting you that after he accidentally sent a voice message of himself screeching excitedly at the news and all the new career opportunities working in such tight contact with someone like Korea’s ‘it’ boy could bring you.

When Ryeon receives a call, however – you think you recognize their manager’s voice over the phone – they get up and bid their goodbyes. Ryung-gu holds you close this time, whispers something into your ear that Joong-gil doesn’t catch, but then suddenly everything’s as clear as day for him.

“We should go, too,” Joong-gil says after a moment of the two of you being alone, standing up and motioning for you to put his hoodie back on while he goes up to the counter to pay.

His bike stands lonely in one of the empty underground garage boxes and he leads you to it in silence.

You have this nagging suspicion that something’s shifted between the two of you between the moment you entered Jumadeung and the moment you left, but you’re tired, and the stress of the days – months – leading up to this performance and that of all the stages you’ll have to dance from now on when you leave on tour is finally catching up with your body. your legs are heavy and your arms are sore. You really can’t wait to be home, take a quick shower, and then disappear underneath the fluffy blankets you have on your bed.

“We have the first round of interviews tomorrow afternoon, remember?” he asks as he hands you his spare helmet. Maybe now would be the right time to tell him you’ve never been on a motorbike – the prop you used in one of your past music videos doesn’t count – but the words somehow don’t come out.

So you nod with a hum as you let him buckle your helmet. “Make-up at 3. Quick photoshoot at 4. Three interviews starting at 5:30,” you list, your mind providing you with the mental photograph of the schedule your manager jotted down on a post-it note stuck to your fridge. “Then dinner with our teams at 8.”

He makes a face at your detailed response, almost as though he’s surprised by how precise you are. But he’s satisfied with you being well aware of your joint plans, and he straddles the bike without another word, waiting for you to slide in behind him.

You’ve been close to him already – of course you’ve been. What with the dancing, or all the photoshoots you’ve had so far. Even the time spent brainstorming on the couch in his studio, shoulder to shoulder and thigh to thigh, going over lyrics and munching on snacks, pretty much breathing the same air. But it’s never felt like this, and when he reaches for your wrists to wrap your arms around his torso, you chastise yourself for feeling this way.

There’s a line you shouldn’t cross, and before tonight the urge to do it had never surfaced. You wonder what has been the source of that change, and all you can come up with is tonight’s – well, last night’s – performance.

“Hold on tight,” he tells you from above his shoulder and before you know it, you’re back into the streets of the capital.

You’d facepalm yourself if you weren’t riding a bike at breakneck speed. Of course it’s the chemicals in your brain all going off at once after performing the first stage of your comeback! By the time you wake up later today – you tell yourself – you’ll be back to normal.

You fall asleep with that thought kept on repeat in your mind and with the lingering feeling of Joong-gil’s leather jacket underneath your fingertips.

You wake up with your feelings all over the place, however, after a restless night’s sleep with dreams of him one after the other. If you didn’t have a busy day ahead, you’d be texting back and forth with Bit-na about the topic, asking for an opinion or simply a wake-up call. Instead, you call your mother to briefly tell her about last night and try to ignore the fact that you seem to have finally started to succumb to a crush you thought you had forgotten everything about.

The infamous article insinuating romance between you and the solo singer is somehow being kept on the backburner of your mind. The way fans reacted at first, or at least those that managed to before the article was taken down. The judging comments, insinuating you were using him for his fame – which, considering also his modeling and acting gigs, is considerably more than yours, there is unfortunately no denying that – despite the fact that he is the one who seeked you out first, but that is something nobody outside your agencies knows.

“Nervous?” Joong-gil asks, looking at your reflection in the mirror while his stylist fixes his hair.

He always looks so perfect, so well put-together, not one single hair out of place. It’d be hard not to fall for his charm. And then he opens his mouth and shows off how well-spoken and knowledgeable he is, and the difficulty triplicates.

You shrug, smiling lightly and closing your eyes to allow your make-up artist to finish the sophisticated look they picked for your eyeshadow. “Every time’s like the second time.”

“Not the first?” you hear the curiosity in his voice.

“I was a mess on my first time,” you chuckle, and then chuckle some more when your make-up artist says, but you held it together like a champ! She’s been with you since the beginning, and you’re glad she’s still here: she’s always been an integral part of keeping you sane and calm. “My second time went a lot better because I knew what to expect, but I was still nervous.”

He’s holding out a hand for you when you open your eyes, and you’re hesitant to take it. You think back to last night, when he stood a few steps below you in that dirty building, when you still thought Jumadeung didn’t exist or that it was some horror-movie room of torture where you’d heave your last breath. It was warm in your hand, his skin smooth aside from the few calluses from gripping the weights he lifts at the gym.

You take a hold of it now, and he wraps his fingers tightly around your hand before he grabs the arm of your chair with his other hand and pulls you closer until your knees are slotted between his spread legs and pressed up against the edge of his seat.

It’s a relief that everyone’s left the changing room because you wouldn’t want to explain the way Joong-gil’s sudden action makes you gasp.

“Hey, it’s gonna be alright,” he smiles. It’s a soft smile that does more harm than good and all you can do is look down at the way he’s still holding onto your hand, like that’s exactly where he belongs. You have no clue how to tell him today’s interviews are not exactly what’s making you nervous or even if you should be telling him in the first place. “We’ve already done this to prepare for yesterday’s show plenty of times. You’re great at this game.”

You nod silently, playing with the hem of the confetti baby pink dress you’re made to wear. You hate this color, and you hate the way the organza of the skirt makes the skin of your thighs itch. “I can’t wait for today’s schedule to be over,” you confess, and that’s not even a lie.

“It’ll be over in a heartbeat.” His eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles, and you don’t know how to feel.

You know how you do feel at the moment – your butterfly has fled your wrist again and is back in your stomach, moving around with the same strength of a herd of elephants, which is considerably more than it was last night.

It’s like being back on that stage, just as everyone cheered your flawless performance and you turned around to briefly glance at him at the end of your show. The droplets of sweat running down the side of his face, the way he was panting, his chest rising and falling underneath his loose shirt, and the grin he sent your way. Then you got off the stage, back behind the scenes, and he pulled on your hand and wrapped you in a hug tighter than Joon-woong’s, all sweaty and scorching hot, laughing like a maniac with the adrenaline pushing through his system.

Part of you is still right there, rooted to the spot.

You wonder whether your brain’s still wired up on the same frequency it latched onto last night – the excitement of having jumped the first hurdle, the way performing on stage always makes you feel, the sheer joy dancing brings upon you and how powerful singing makes you feel. You want to think it’s that, and not that you’re falling for him, because that would simply make the rest of this job harder. There’s a million people like you, but apparently only one like him.

But then last night at Jumadeung crawls its way back to the forefront of your mind. You felt something at the table and caught a look Ryeon sent Joong-gil’s way, a look you couldn’t exactly put into words, even more so because you were distracted talking to Joon-woong and feeling Ryung-gu’s hand on your thigh.

They are your friends, they have been ever since you started training at the agency and even more so after you debuted… You want to be able to invite them to celebrate all together at some point down the line, and if that means the atmosphere isn’t going to be relaxed, then you won’t be able to do it.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks, tilting your head back to face him by grabbing your chin between his thumb and forefinger.

The proximity makes your heart jump up into your throat. You want your brain to calm down, and for the butterflies in your stomach to stop flying around.

“Did something happen between you and the members of RMT?” The question is out before you can bite your tongue.

He tilts his head to the side. “Why?”

You shrug, trying to be as nonchalant as you can muster, but deep down fearing you won’t be able to have your friends there with you when it eventually comes to celebrating this collaboration. “Last night felt… I don’t know, tense, in a way, I guess, after we joined their table. I don’t remember reading anything about a fight between you or-”

“Ryeon and I dated for a while.”

Your babbling comes to a screeching halt when he says that. He says it matter-of-factly, like it’s the most random thing and not such a well-kept secret even you, after all the time you’ve spent with her, knew absolutely nothing about. “What? When?”

Fuck. What the fuck are you even doing here with him, allowing yourself to feel the way and the things you feel?

“Three years ago.”

You’re still blinking, barely even processing what he’s saying. There’s only one Park Joong-gil, you’re well aware of that, but there’s also only one Koo Ryeon. Of course, they would have ended up together one way or another at some point. Your imbalanced brain really does see the sense in that. “How long?”

“A few months.” He frowns before adding, “why are you so shocked?”

“Ryeon never mentioned anything about a relationship…”

You’re still gaping when someone knocks on the changing room’s door, warning the both of you that you still have ten minutes before the shoot.

“Yeah well, it’s over now.” He says it in a way that makes you believe he’s still somewhat suffering because of it and you know you shouldn’t overthink or insinuate stuff about others, but now some of his lyrics kind of do make more sense. “Talking about RMT…” He’s smirking, changing the topic, which is never a good thing when it comes to him and how surprisingly teasing he can be. “Lim Ryung-gu…”

Your spine straightens up before you can make yourself hide the surprise his name douses you with. “What about him?”

His hand is still in yours, and you find yourself praying to anything good and holy that he doesn’t feel how clammy it becomes. You know how good an observer he can be; you’ve come to learn a lot of things about him in the time you’ve been working together.

“Just wondering. Is he the one with peak head game?”

Your eyes widen for a moment and you can feel all the blood both drain from your face and rush to your cheeks.

It’s a weird feeling. You never thought you’d get caught. Ryung-gu lives in your same condominium, so sneaking around when one or both of you need a way to release stress has always been easy. No one sees, and no one writes anything. It’s always been a great deal.

You escape Joong-gil’s question by the skin of your teeth when your manager opens the door to announce it’s time for the photoshoot. The sudden wave of relief makes you jump up like a spring and push your chair back in one single movement, and you try to ignore the way Joong-gil chuckles under his breath.

Throughout the whole photoshoot you try not to think about Ryung-gu, or about how close to Joong-gil some poses have you be. With his arms around you, caging you against the prop brick wall, his eyes staring into yours the way the photographer orders him to while you look straight at the camera, it’s somewhat easy to forget the rest of the world. You just hope he doesn’t hear how loud your heart is beating inside your chest, or how deafening the blood flow in your eardrums is.

“Thaaat’s perfect,” you hear the photographer cheer. “A few more like that, and then we’re moving on to the last batch.”

“Relax,” Joong-gil murmurs against your cheek, his nose brushing against your skin with how the next pose has the two of you. “Even I feel like you’re about to go into cardiac arrest,” he chuckles under his breath.

The sound and feel of him so close makes a thrill crawl down your spine, and suddenly your brain’s not focusing anymore on your friend Ryeon dating Park Joong-gil or on Joong-gil (correctly) suspecting about something between you and Ryung-gu. Back in the changing room you almost wanted to tell him it’s just sex, a way to lock the rest of the world out for a moment, but you have no clue what idea he’s going to have about you if you tell him that.

“I’m alright,” you whisper back, peering up at him and immediately regretting doing so. With how close together your faces are, you could count every single one of his lashes if you wanted. His breath fans the top of your lips in such a way that it feels like the ghost of a kiss, and you’re so close to him you can smell his cologne, and probably the faint scent of his foundation cream as well. “Just a bit nervous. It’s really real now.” And then you add, “the collab, I mean.”

His smile feels more blinding than the flashing lights of the camera, and the rest of the day goes by in a blur. The photoshoot, the interviews… You go on autopilot, almost, and only come out of it by the end of the third interview. It’s for a magazine your mother loves to read. No cameras are rolling, only the reporter’s voice recorder is recording on the coffee table between you and Joong-gil on a low leather couch and her on a matching chair.

“Last night’s stage was a huge success,” she says. “Your mv did really well on all platforms, but that performance was bomb. Everyone’s talking about how good you look together!”

You smile, daring a glance at Joong-gil. He’s setting his jaw, but he’s good at masking that with the smile he still has on his lips, unwavering.

“The chemistry between the two of you seems to be off the charts, truly. Your fans have been going crazy ever since you posted the first video.” You’ve seen this particular interviewer on TV a few times, and you know what part of the interview this is. Just because you’re not being recorded on film doesn’t mean she’s changing her M.O. “Has anything sweet bloomed between you?”

Joong-gil chuckles, and if that woman wasn’t already hanging from his every word before, she sure is now, heart eyes and all. But then again, you do understand her: resisting his spell isn’t easy. He’s one fine specimen, always has been. “Y/N’s an amazing person and artist, and I do admit we work really well together, but not everything boils down to a romantic relationship.”

You find yourself nodding. Get out of your head, this is strictly business, you tell yourself, but then voice your agreement with what your colleague’s just said.

A few more pleasantries, and then you’re being dragged back into the changing room and to your van. This time it is your van. You sit in the back and your manager behind the wheel, and then you’re off for some informal dinner in a reserved restaurant where no one will bother you.

You look up from your phone screen only when she calls your name.

“Great job today,” she grins through the rearview mirror when she stops at a red light. “The photoshoot was spectacular and you handled yourself well during the interviews. To someone who knows you, though… is everything alright? You seemed a bit distracted.”

“It’s just…” It’s just me developing a stupid crush on a colleague. And Ryeon apparently was in a relationship with this colleague in the past, and she never mentioned a word about it. And then, oh yeah, it doesn’t happen often, but I’m fucking Ryung-gu when I’m stressed, but now I’ve been so stressed and busy that I haven’t been able to, and my Joong-gil’s apparently found out after spending half an hour with us anyway. We have so much scheduled that I’ll probably have to schedule restroom breaks as well. And I’m always afraid of messing up on stage, no matter how hard I prepare for it. And what if I really do end up falling for Joong-gil? Dude’s been closed off to the world so much that it’s a miracle he and Ryeon even dated. But you confess none of that, opting for a neutral, “I’m a bit nervous about all future performances. We still have like a billion interviews coming up and I really hate being asked about relationships and having to pretend I’m the fairy this industry portrays me as.”

She smiles understandingly and nods her head, her eyes always trained on the road. It’s a good thing that she’s a great driver and that she cares about everyone’s safety so much that she never trails her eyes off the road. She’d probably see right through you if she were to turn around right now. “That’s understandable. I can’t imagine being in your shoes, it would make me freak out six times out five.”

You giggle with her.

“But you’re great at what you do. Leave it to me and the PR team to monitor the comments online and the articles, don’t worry about that. You’re doing great already,” she reassures you. “Also, you’re not doing it alone this time. Mr Park looks like he knows what he’s doing when it comes to prying questions. He’s always very reserved when it comes to his personal life, so I’m sure he’ll help in keeping those questions to a minimum like he did today.”

“You’re right,” you nod absentmindedly, looking out the window at Seoul’s night traffic. But you apparently don’t sound convincing enough.

“Is anything else on your mind?”

You decide to lie. “Nope.”

He is on your mind, however.

Park fucking Joong-gil.

For the first time ever, he’s sitting at your kitchen table after your teams’ dinner, dropping a piece of candy into his soju. You don’t know what got into you when you invited him up to your place, and you want to say the fact that you were all pressed up against his back on his bike for the second time did not cloud your common sense, but that would be a fat lie.

“I’m sorry if I pried this afternoon,” he says after a while, when you finally sit down with a steamy mug of chamomile tea for you and push another one his way. It’s a silly mug, with grinning fluffy white sheep on a green background, but your mother loved it too much not to buy it for you. It’s probably not the best thing to give your guest, you realize at the last minute. “What’s going on between you and Lim Ryung-gu is none of anyone’s business but your own.”

“No, it’s…” You huff, scrunching your forehead with your fingers before smothering your hand down your face. It’s kind of intimidating to sit there bare-faced in front of someone who looks so good even after a long day of work. “I was the one who poked her nose in your business first. Ryung-gu and I are just… friends. It’s… complicated.”

“Complicated?”

The skin of your face burns, and you can’t look him in the eyes. Instead, you let the night skyline outside your window catch your attention. “We… It’s just… It’s hard sometimes, you know? This life.” You look down. Your nerves get the best of you and you start tracing the rim of your mug with your middle finger. “It’s stressful already as it is, and then you go out and there’s suddenly a new rumor about you every step you take. This is dating that. Or X got a nose job. Y has been caught dancing in a club. It follows you everywhere you go even after you clock out for the day.”

He smiles. “Sometimes I feel like we don’t really clock out.”

You groan. “Don’t remind me of that. Fucking yes. So… Ryung-gu lives two floors above me. It’s easy to… let out stress when no one can see.” You’re burning even more than your chamomile tea is.

Why the hell are you telling him that? You don’t owe him anything, least of all an explanation, and yet, you’ve started to realize that a silly part of you kind of does want him – and for him to want you. Park Joong-gil, that is.

He’s nodding, almost as though he’s piecing the pieces together. “Is he who your friend was talking about that day on the phone, correct?” he asks again.

You nod.

“There’s nothing wrong with falling for someone.”

Your eyes shoot up to meet his, but he’s the one looking out the window this time and you only catch his side profile and the way his Adam’s apple bobs up and down when he drinks his soju.

“It’s not… like that.” You don’t know where your voice went. It almost makes you feel bad that you don’t have feelings for Ryung-gu and that he doesn’t have any for you. Almost like you fuck on autopilot. Like the connection is only physical and platonic and it doesn’t go deeper than that. Maybe, if you did it more often, then you would start catching feelings, but you’re careful with not fucking around too much.

“You look like your heart’s beating out of your chest again,” he smirks, taking the mug you prepared for him.

“Yeah well, maybe because it is.” You hide behind your hands again, sighing down into your mug.

“You know, you have no explaining to do. It’s just… natural. As long as it helps…,” he shrugs.

He’s so nonchalant about it. It almost makes you wonder whether that’s how things started between him and Ryeon, even though Ryeon never seemed like the one to do things just because she’s horny. She’s level-headed, probably the most level-headed person you know – despite the fact that you had no clue she was seeing someone, so who knows.

“Are you nervous now?” he asks and you hum. There’s a beat of silence and then, “is it because of me?”

“No!” Well yes, but you can’t tell him that last night at Jumadeung gave you the illusion of being on a date, or how months of working in such close proximity are finally starting to catch up on you.

You can feel his gaze on you, but you dare not look up. What if you do and end up blurting out nonsense? Embarrassing yourself and changing the dynamics between you for good?

“I’m nervous, too,” he confesses, and that’s when you find it within yourself to peer at him. “I’ve been working with a crazy talented artist and it’s been making me feel like I should be doing more.”

“A crazy talented ar- me?” you frown. By all means, you’re good at this game, but you know there’s better performers than you out there.

“Have you heard about me collabing with someone else?”

His smile takes your breath away for a moment. You want to think he’s trying to flirt with you, but you really shouldn’t be throwing gasoline onto the fire of your crush. Everything was going so smoothly… Fucking comeback, you think.

“I’ve been a fan since day one, just saying,” he shrugs, sipping on his chamomile tea.

“You…” You gasp at how unexpected this is, and then you’re laughing. You must look like a lunatic, messy hair and loose pajama, trying to keep your cool after confessing to having a fuck buddy to one of the most wanted people in the country. Part of you can’t wait to tell Bit-na about that, and another part of you really doesn’t want to hear what she’d have to say in response.

“Fuck, you really are stressed out of your mind…” He’s amused, it’s clear both in his voice and on his face.

He brings your mug to your lips, leaning across the table towards you, and he steals your breath for the second time tonight. He helps you drink, and it calms you down. Only on the outside, though, you think. You can still feel your heart inside your chest when he stands up to wash the mugs and the glass he used to drink his soju, and your thumb absentmindedly brushes over your tattooed butterfly.

“Don’t let this life stress you out so much,” he murmurs from behind you, leaning over you to speak against your cheek before he kisses it. “If you need a hand with it, you have my number. We’re partners now, after all.”

What’s he suggesting? You torment yourself with that question for what feels like forever before you make up your mind.

Ryung-gu comes over when Joong-gil leaves. You called the wrong number – on purpose, of course. There are some things you can’t talk about with ‘your partner’, but you’ve always been an open book for Lim Ryung-gu.

It’s nothing regular, the thing you two have, but this is the first time in months that one of you calls the other for stress relief. It’s not bad by any means, it just… feels different, in a way. Like your brain is still stuck on a loop of last night at Jumadeung, when you were staring at yourself in the mirror of that fairyland-like restroom, wearing Park Joong-gil’s soft hoodie over your golden top, standing under winking fairy lights.

You see the kitchen table from where you’re half sitting, half reclining on the couch in the living room, with Ryung-gu kneeling between your legs. You can still picture Joong-gil’s back, the gray cardigan he wore after the interviews were over, his perfectly styled hair, straight out of a magazine cover like some sort of walking dream.

A particular brush of Ryung-gu’s fingers inside you makes your toes curl and your back arch, your head falling back against the pillows as your hands tug on his hair. His groan against your pussy makes you tingle all over, and when his lips latch onto your clit you know you’re done for.

“Fuck, just like that,” you manage to whisper, breathing hard, pulling him closer to you by the back of his head.

You can hear how wet you are by the squelching sound his fingers moving in and out of you make. It makes your head spin – and your heart ache as well, maybe, because part of you feels like you’ll never have anything real, not in this department and not in this line of work where you feel controlled twenty-four seven.

But with Ryung-gu it’s easy to pretend: he eats you out like he does that for a living, and in the spur of the moment, with the air scorching in your lungs, you think the world deserves to know his fingers aren’t only great at playing the piano.

Then he curls his fingers, gets to work on that one patch of sensitive skin deep inside you, and you come with a low moan that comes up from deep within you and seems to go on forever as his tongue keeps on lapping up at your juices.

He gives your clit one last suck and that makes you whine, your thighs quiver in overstimulation as you tug on his hair to get him off of you. Then, he’s using your discarded panties to clean you and his hand up.

You come down from your high cuddled up into his side, your head on his shoulder, and the way his fingers trace patterns on your back, through your t-shirt, calms your raging heartbeat and roots you to the present moment.

“I think we should stop doing this,” he whispers against the side of your head, lips brushing against your hair when he speaks.

Your only reply is a hum. It’s not like you’ve been thinking about that, too, but it’s true that in the last few months you’ve come to secretly wish for something more. A deeper connection. Doing this with someone you have actual feelings for – someone that hopefully also has feelings for you, too. Ryung-gu brought everything else to the table – he’s understanding, fun, blurts random bits of knowledge in the middle of the night when you’re lying in bed covered in sweat – but not that one part of the picture.

“I met someone, and I also feel like you’ve been slowly drifting away,” he continues, his voice soft. You can hear his heart beat inside his chest, underneath your cheek, and you move your hand up to brush your thumb over his sternum. “Is it Joong-gil?”

He’s smirking in amusement when you move your head to meet his gaze quicker than the speed of light just to moan the split second later because your neck is sore and all that haste didn’t sit well with it. But there’s no lying to him – you’ve been friends since you left Busan together, so if anything, after Bit-na, he’s the one person you trust the most when it comes to actually opening up.

“I don’t know what’s up with me,” you confess eventually. It’s then, as you wish for any kind of distraction to bless you, that you notice he’s cut his hair and got rid of his toned hair tips. He must have met with his stylist today, you reason distractedly, because yesterday his hair was longer, sporting a look you’ve come to love on him. “Yesterday at Jumadeung… which, by the way,” you deadpan, pushing yourself up onto your elbow. “Wow, that’s so very loyal of you, bestie. Thank you for telling me about that place.”

He snorts. “As if,” he chuckles, pushing your bangs away from your face. He likes this new look on you, and he’s probably the main reason why you’ve let yourself enjoy it, too. “It was my first time there as well. Ryeon wanted to go out yesterday afternoon and she brought us there. Joon-woong knew about it, though, so if you really wanna be mad at someone… be mad at the golden retriever.”

“But he’s so cute,” you playfully pout, making the same face you would if you saw a cute puppy. “He has my approval for anything he wants to do or say.”

He snorts again, trying not to laugh, but eventually failing. “Don’t derail the conversation,” he scolds, playfully smacking your bare thigh. “Was last night a date?”

You shake your head no, but you feel your face grow hotter at the mere idea of it being one. You really don’t know how it happened, and you tell him as much. “I don’t think so. There’s never been anything more than just work. And when I went to bed last night I thought it was just because I was still all over the place after the show and how cozy it was at Jumadeung. But then I woke up at noon today and I was still thinking about him…” you huff, lying back down next to him, and wrap an arm around his waist.

“Do you like him?”

“Who doesn’t?” you scoff, and then hide your face in his chest because fuck. What’s with your hormones and this crush? You stay quiet for a while, enjoying the silence of the night and his fingers still lightly tickling your back from above your blue pajama shirt. “I don’t know what to do, Ryung-gu. Like…” You rub your face with both hands when you can’t keep in the groan. “What if this crush or whatever gets out of hand and ruins everything?”

“With the collab, you mean? Or your… situationship?”

You hum. “Like, he’s always been incredibly attractive, both inside and out, but so are you and a lot of other people I’ve met…”

“Wow, thanks, I guess,” he laughs, only to be met by a flick of your fingers against his forehead.

“You know you’re hot. Don’t tell me you’ve never seen what people comment under your posts on Insta.”

“Oh, I know i’m sex on legs,” he jokes, looking at you like he’s all high and mighty before cracking into an amused grin. “It just hits different when it comes from that mouth of yours.”

You flick him again, this time on his chest, before you’re pushing yourself up again to look down at him. “I just don’t know what to do, and… ugh!” You bite your tongue, and needing a way out of this conversation, you ask, “what about your person, though?” You smirk, wiggling your eyebrows and making him laugh. “Who is it? Do I know them? Is it another singer? A backup dancer? Model? Min-ji from back home?”

He silences you with a hand on your mouth, but it just makes you giggle, and suddenly you’re hyper aware of how he’s looming over you on the couch, and your pussy is still out and wet, and God this feels so wrong. You would’ve never called him had you known he’s met someone. Thinking about him going down on you when he’s considering the idea of pursuing an actual person makes you feel worse than spilling the beans to Joong-gil did, and dirtier than the railing you grabbed yesterday in that building was.

“What, so you can snitch to the tabloids?” he asks, but he’s smiling, so you know there’s no bite behind his words.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out all of a sudden. “For calling you over. You ate me out despite all that and…” He lets you sit up and moves to sit next to you on the couch. “God, I feel like such a bitch,” you groan from behind your hands. They’ve quickly become the wall you hide behind.

“Hey, it’s fine.” Ryung-gu pulls you into his side and leaves a kiss on the crown of your head. “You’re my friend, I would’ve never left you alone in a time of need when I have nothing really going on yet. You would’ve done the same, I’m sure. Unless…”

“Unless?” You don’t dare look up at him, even though you can hear the smile in his voice. He still feels like the same Lim Ryung-gu he’s always been, but then also like you’re miles apart for the first time in forever – or probably ever.

“Unless that Park dude really has a hold on your pussy.”

He doesn’t stop cackling when, indignant, you hit him with a pillow.

“Shut up,” you groan. “I’ve been a mess since last night’s stage, let me be.”

He wipes your pout away with a thumb before pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Just saying… I’m sure it’s hard to stay stoic when he has those hip rolls in your choreo.”

Your face is scorching hot. Ryung-gu is right, Joong-gil has some sexy moves, but so does he in his own solo numbers. They’ve always been one of his distinctive traits and while yes, you’ve always swooned a little every time, you’ve also always been able to stay professional when he danced them with you.

“You know, I actually think this is a great opportunity for the both of us,” Ryung-gu says after a while, when you’re putting on a fresh pair of panties. You snatch your pajama shorts from his hand when he hands them to you, and join him in the kitchen for the leftover pizza he brought over from his apartment. “We both get to find out what we really like with a partner,” he explains when you simply frown in confusion at him.

“Maybe you will. I’ll be trying not to think too much about it. He’s there,” you gesture with your hand held up high above your head, “and I’m here,” you continue, placing your other hand much lower.

“In my book you’re here,” he corrects, raising the hand you used to show him where you stand, “and he’s here.” He lowers the other one. “You’re great. What are you even implying here?”

“Yeah, a crazy talented artist,” you groan, quoting back Joong-gil’s words to your friend with a roll of your eyes. You don’t even know why it stings so much to be just that to him. Well, of course, you do know why, but you don’t want to linger there.

“I was thinking more about a crazy awesome person.” Ryung-gu boops your nose before adding, “but yeah, whatever floats your boat. Just don’t put him on a pedestal. You both have the same job and are equally as talented. Don’t start treating him like a god on Earth, leave that to his fans. Because if anything, he’s lucky to be doing this with you.”

Despite everything, you’ve managed to keep it as professional as possible with Joong-gil thus far. Everything always runs smoothly – interviews, photoshoots, promotional shoots, even performances or radio appearances with your usual banter and jokes, even if shipping comments follow you every step of the way. What’s worse is that when you come off stage, high on adrenaline, one simple look from him is somehow enough to make your panties wet.

You’re really not proud to admit it, and after every show, it’s becoming harder and harder to conceal the effect he has on you. Giving him the wrong impression is the last thing you want to do, and at the same time it’s hard to figure out what’s going on in his mind, behind those dark eyes of his.

Tonight’s not any different, you notice when you’re pushed into your van right behind him after the opening concert to the Japanese leg of your joint tour.

There’s the adrenaline again – all the post-performance feelings, the fact that you managed to sell this venue out in less than three minutes twice when the tour dates were first announced. You’re wired beyond belief, every fiber of your being buzzing underneath your skin, your heart leaping in your chest like that’s some Olympic sport. It’s been a while since the sensations were this intense, so much so that it’s overwhelming and you end up planting a celebratory wet kiss on Joong-gil’s lips without even realizing you’re doing it.

Your brain only catches up with it while you’re standing under the warm jet of the shower, a ballad humming through your phone’s speakers in the background. It should be a quick freshening up, because you know Joong-gil will take a quick shower as well before starting his post-concert VLive stream while he waits for you, but you can’t help but freeze, the loofa stopping on your chest and the trembling fingers of your right hand coming up to your lips.

You still feel his lips against yours, and hear the harsh breath he took and which you never really registered in the moment, buzzing as you were with excitement, the goosebumps tugging at your sweaty skin.

“Fucking fuck,” you mutter under your breath, mouth agape for a moment before you shut it and turn the waterstream off.

Thinking about it will do you more harm than good, you know that, but your heartbeat is every-fucking-where now when you think back to the way he grabbed a hold of your biceps to keep your balance and prevent you from falling fully onto him.

Maybe you can play it off tomorrow morning, pretend like you passed out right after your shower and say you’re deeply sorry for missing out on the quick post-concert catch-up with your fans. You’re about to text Bit-na about your misstep in the van and how fucked up it got you, to the point you almost touched yourself in the shower, when the notification of Joong-gil going live pops up on the screen of your phone.

You stand there for a full minute, naked, dripping water onto the tile floor of your hotel room’s bathroom. There’s no resisting the curiosity, those brain chemicals going hysterical, and your finger taps on the notification before you can stop yourself.

He’s sitting on the couch in his hotel room, pretty much a twin of yours. Tokyo’s lights at night are blinking behind him and while that’s definitely a view, he seems to be an even better one now. White loose t-shirt, wet hair still slightly dripping droplets of water onto his shoulders, bare-faced but still incredibly charming in the way he talks, answers comments, says Y/N will join us shortly before drinking from his water bottle. It all makes you want to kiss him again, but this time on purpose while being fully present in the moment.

“Fuck.”

You’re cooked.

You’ve got it real bad – you facepalm yourself as you close the app, lock your phone, and quickly get dressed into something you can lounge in while still looking presentable. You really do not want to look bad next to him.

It’s now or never, you tell yourself when you force yourself out into the corridor.

Joong-gil’s door is right opposite yours and as you walk the few steps that separate yours from it, you quickly glance out of the window at the end of the hallway. By the looks of it, it’s going to rain tonight.

The livestream goes by quickly: Joong-gil is more entertaining than you thought he’d be, but this time he does a great job at keeping the conversation with the fans flowing despite the fact that you’re, well, beat. You should have known that the moment you’d finally sit down, slumber would start creeping up on you. And, well, he’s better at Japanese than you are – that’s something that should be mentioned.

Nevertheless, you still step in with puns and funny anecdotes about tonight’s show or the time you and Joong-gil have spent working together. In the live chat, someone even swoons about your coordinated outfits on stage, and that’s just another opportunity to flaunt the amazing stylists you have this time around – an excuse not to think about the way you do know you look like when you’re together. Like you’re a match made in fucking heaven, but that could also be your crush speaking on your behalf.

When the stream is finally off and you get the thumbs up of approval from both your managers, you let yourself fall back against the couch with a sigh.

“Tired?” Joong-gil asks, moving around to plug his phone in. He puts it down on the nightstand and grabs a bottle of water from the minifridge for you.

“Exhausted,” you groan, pulling your legs up and resting your head on your knees.

It’s easier to look at him now without thinking about that rather chaste kiss you gave him and the ways he moved on stage earlier on in the night. You don’t feel like you might catch fire with just a look from him, but when he sits back down next to you, some of that anxious tension comes back.

“I’m really enjoying this,” he smiles. When he leans his head back and fully relaxes, however, you notice how tired he looks, too. His eyelids are heavy and all his weight is leaning against the couch like he’s a bag of potatoes.

You hum and nod, taking a long sip from the water bottle he handed you while thinking about Bit-na. During the two weeks between the first stage performance and Jumadeung and tonight’s show, you’ve told her about this whatever-it-is that you started feeling for Joong-gil. Nothing too detail-heavy, but there’s no way in hell you could have survived without her opinion on the matter. You wish she were here now, a tiny celestial being perched on your shoulder, ready to give you counsel.

“I’m enjoying this collab a lot, too,” you say, leaning back and turning your head to the side to look at him. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he’s fallen asleep.

But he softly giggles, amused, and you know he’s still awake. “I mean… Yeah, the collab as well. But I was thinking more about… you. The time we’ve been spending together.”

You bite your tongue, a way to prevent the wrong things from leaving your mouth, but also to stop that smile from stretching on your lips.

“What was that kiss about?” he asks without giving you the time to even think. “Back in the van.”

The expression on your face must be the epitome of regret because he looks taken aback in a way you’ve never seen him. The truth is, you have no clue what to tell him. You don’t want to make things weird, but you also fucking do want to kiss those plump lips of his again.

“I… The excitement always gets to my head, I’m really sorry if that made you uncomfortable,” you murmur eventually, finding it difficult to meet his gaze.

“So, do you kiss a lot of people like that?”

“Fuck, no!” It’s the nerves acting on your behalf that make you chuckle and all you can do to try and stop the tremor in your hands is close your eyes and deepen your breaths. “No, I… That was a first, even for me.”

His hum is questioning, and you feel his weight on the couch shift. It’s only when his fingertips touch your lips that you will yourself to open your eyes.

He’s incredibly close, just like that day during the photoshoot and many other photoshoots before that. You can smell the faint minty aftertaste of his toothpaste when he says, “should we make it a tradition?”

It’s like you’re hypnotized, and you’d like to blame your deafening heartbeat for the fact that you can’t stop that meak yeah from tumbling past your lips. He clouds your senses, and you’re suddenly glad that your rooms are so up high because that means no paparazzi will be able to snap a picture and you can finally feel safe enough to-

His lips touch yours. Soft, smooth, and you wonder why the fuck they feel so hot against yours. The kiss cuts your breath short, makes the butterflies in your stomach rouse again, and then some other warm and wet feeling starts rearing its head. He’s staring at you and you can’t help but stare back. Your brain leaves on a tangent and it’s soon wondering how quickly an ambulance will be able to come in case you dramatically go into cardiac arrest, even though neither of you is deepening the kiss. It’s chaste, just his lips pressing against yours as his hand cradles the side of your face.

Is it you being dramatic if you say you want to stay here forever?

When he eventually pulls back, he lets his tongue come out for a split second to brush against your lower lip and that’s when your body decides to betray you, to break your composure to let a shaky breath out.

His eyes fall down to your lips and you’re helpless as you stare at the way that grin of his plasters on his face.

He’s so fucking- ugh!

You feel like you could punch the sky with the way Park Joong-gil makes you feel. You decide then and there that it’s senseless to sit there and ponder how the fuck that bubble of feelings decided to pop only now – well, at Jumadeung – because now you’re stuck with the defeaning certainty that you’re down really bad for him.

“I love new traditions,” he grins, leaning back against the couch without breaking eye contact.

Head empty. There’s not one single thought in there that’s not Park Joong-gil. If Ryeon never said anything about him just so that she could keep him all for herself, well… You can’t really blame her. He’s charming. He pulls you to him like he’s a magnet. And it doesn’t even matter that you don’t even know where you stand anymore with him because your brain starts working a mile a minute until suddenly it’s picturing him between-

No.

No, you can’t go there.

He speaks before you have the chance to. “I think I wanna repeat it after tomorrow’s show if that’s alright with you. But we should probably go to bed now.”

You don’t resist him when he says he’ll accompany you to your door despite the fact that it’s literally less than ten meters from the couch you’ve been sitting on for the best part of the past two hours. If you can have thirty more seconds alone with him, then who the hell are you to say no?

But sleep doesn’t come easily – not with the feeling of his lips against yours, and not with the promise that you’re going to have another fix of that tomorrow night. You’re ready to bet you’ve never ever wanted a whole day to go by at the speed of light the way you desperately need it to now.

You feel guilty as hell when you let your hand slip past the elastic band of your panties to toy with the wetness between your folds. But that’s your best bet at trying to force slumber to come back, and you eventually fall asleep with Joong-gil’s name on your lips.

It’s silly, the way your heart somersaults inside your chest every time Park Joong-gil honors the silly tradition you accidentally started during your first night in Tokyo.

He kisses you after your second concert in the Japanese capital.

He kisses you after the concert in Nagoya.

In Osaka, you kiss before and after you hop onto the stage.

And every time, that celebratory kiss deepens a little more. By the time you land in Los Angeles to embark on your seven US American dates, you’re not thinking I should be keeping this professional between the two of us anymore, but instead I need more of him.

You’re on a video call with Bit-na after the concert in the SoFi stadium – between the crazy demanding show you put on and the jetlag, both you and Joong-gil are way too beat for a livestream.

“How’s your predicament going?” she asks as she continues doing her make-up.

“It’s hard,” you groan, falling back onto the hard mattress and shuffling around until you’re all cocooned into the blankets, only the top half of your head peeking out from the fluffy material.

“You mean his dick is?” She’s bold, always has been, and you’re glad you opted to put your earbuds in. The last thing you need is a late night visit from Park Joong-gil in which he hears your friend talk about this kind of shit again, with the only difference that this time it’s not Ryung-gu she’s talking about.

“That… too, yeah.” The temperature of your face could rival that of the sun. All you can do is fully hide your head underneath the blankets and hope your body will cool down quickly, but it feels like an impossible task when you can still feel his erection pressed against you when you kissed in the powder room after the concert.

Bit-na’s laughter is loud and hysterical. It deafens you for a moment but you figure that’s a good thing: it prevents you from replaying in your head the way you moaned into the kiss when you did your best not to roll your hips into his. “Did you really give him a boner?!”

“I’m sure it was just the excitement after the concert,” you mumble, finally re-emerging from your hiding place.

She clicks her tongue. “And I am sure it was aaaaall you,” she chuckles, putting her lipstick back down and picking up her mascara. “Sucking face with someone sure can lead to that.”

“We were not sucking faces.”

“Who do you think you’re fooling? I can see how swollen your lips are from all the way across the Pacific.”

You groan, covering your face with one hand. “I knew I should’ve called Ryung-gu.”

“He’d tell you to just sleep with him already.”

“Oh, shut up. It was different with him. Things just happened and it was his idea,” you remind her. “But now that he’s trying this relationship thing with this new person, it made me realize I want the same. I don’t want to just fuck. I want the whole experience. What if Joong-gil’s not into me like that?”

“The dude made up a making-out tradition just because you kissed him by accident once. I think the chances that he did it because he’s into you are higher than those of him just wanting to make out with someone.” She shrugs her shoulders and disappears for a moment to get dressed. “Stop holding back, Y/N. Just let things happen without trying to stop them.”

And ‘let them happen’ is exactly what you do.

One week after your call with Bit-na, you find yourself kissing Joong-gil in your hotel room in Atlanta, after an English post-concert livestream for your international fans.

It started off innocently enough, with the both of you sitting on the floor, your backs to the foot of your bed and your phone propped up on the coffee table you decided to use as a stand. Then it got less innocent soon after you turned the stream off, when his hand slipped underneath your t-shirt and dragged up your spine, pulling gooseflesh wherever he touched.

That’s how you find yourself being dragged into his lap now, how you find yourself now almost kissing down his throat.

His kisses are something else entirely, and the way his tongue brushes against yours makes you moan into his mouth. They’re intoxicating, his touches on you – the way he cradles your head in both hands, keeping you as close as possible without letting you go for a single second, or the way he suckles on your lower lip when he pulls back just enough to allow the both of you to catch your breath.

“It’s hard,” he says, his eyes roaming your face before being inevitably drawn back to your parted lips.

You have no clue where you find the strength or even the presence of mind to keep your lower half elevated just enough to avoid sitting down on him.

“What is?” you whisper back, suddenly being brought back to what you talked about with your best friend – you said it was hard, and she brought up the erection you had felt in Joong-gil’s pants while kissing. There’s no telling what would happen if you allowed yourself the time necessary to think about that now, or to even sit down comfortably in his lap and feel it, if that’s tonight’s case as well.

“Holding back.” His lips brush against the line of your jaw when he replies, his hands sliding down your sides and over your ass.

He is hard – that’s the first thing you can think about when he pulls you down flush against him. Your breath is caught in your throat when the tip of his nose brushes just right under your ear.

“Acting like I don’t want to fucking worship you.” His voice is deep, probably deeper than you’ve ever heard it in the time you’ve worked together but also before that, even though it’s hard to even think straight right now. “God, I’ve been thinking about you for weeks now.”

It’s like you’re not in control of your body: you hear yourself whimper, and then your hips roll down against his of their own accord.

Just let things happen, you hear Bit-na say again.

Joong-gil’s head falls back against the mattress and he gazes up at you from underneath. It does something to your brain, the sight of him underneath you, his eyelids heavy and his lips kiss-swollen. Because of you, you feel the need to remind yourself. He is like this because of you.

Fuck, it really does mess with your brain. Like thunder strikes and incinerates your ability to keep a grip on yourself.

And then he’s gripping your buttcheeks in both hands and moving you against him. His breathing is heavy, but so is yours. You can feel how hard he is against you even through your layer of clothings – in the spur of the moment you wish neither of you was wearing any. Every last one of your synapses is alight and all you can do is lean down into his lips again for another kiss.

Who would fall for the whole ‘new celebratory kiss tradition’ if anyone were to catch the two of you right now? Maybe Bit-na was right; maybe Joong-gil really did start this because he sees something in you that you yourself don’t see. As he kisses you back, pushes his tongue past your teeth to brush against yours, you find yourself hoping for your friend to really be right.

The buzzing of his phone by his head, on your bed, goes unnoticed when he starts bucking his hips up into yours. He swallows your whimpers, and when he moans in return, you’re suddenly aware of the pleasure starting to coil tighter deep in your stomach.

If he manages to make you come by simply dry-humping you, you can consider that a first.

But then someone knocks on your door, and the quick rapping on the wood breaks the spell. You find yourself looking into his open eyes and realize one of his hands has moved to the back of your head during the heat of your make-out session, the other one is under your t-shirt in the middle of your back.

“Alright, bedtime! We’re catching a flight at seven tomorrow!” You recognize Yun-ho’s voice, but it takes your brain two more seconds to finally give a meaning to the words you’ve just heard.

You jump back up on your feet before you can stop yourself, but Joong-gil doesn’t move immediately. He keeps his eyes trained on you, on the way you’re almost panting, trying to avoid looking down at his groin, and he doesn’t know how hard you’re throbbing right now or how drenched your panties feel even if you’re this close to telling him.

God, if anyone finds out while you’re overseas, you’re fucked. Both of you are.

“See you tomorrow?” he asks when he eventually stands up, movements all fluid when he does – a stark contrast to yours, to how sharp-cornered you felt when you jumped up from his lap and to how sharp-cornered you still do feel when you pick up your phone from the coffee table, unable to meet his eye and knowing that if you do, there’ll be no sleep for you tonight.

You nod and hum in response, but it’s apparently not enough for him. He steps forward, closes the distance between the two of you, and grabs your chin between his thumb and forefinger. He’s done that already once in the past, but right now you’re barely able to remember your own name. This motherfucker really does have that effect on you – brain and body alike.

“I asked, see you tomorrow?” he repeats, but all you can focus on is the way his lips move when you speak.

Part of your brain wants to bite back a of course, where the hell else would i be?, but another part of it is simply paralized. You wouldn’t be surprised to find out it’s decided to make your body take the reins, for once.

He plants a chaste kiss to your lips when your reply is a simple, breathless yes. It’s like the kiss you accidentally gave him after your first concert in Tokyo, but this time it makes you tingle all over.

Would it really be so wrong to tell him now how fucking wet he’s made you?

To your displeasure, however, things don’t go further than that for the rest of your American stay, or even during the one concert you have in Toronto, although Joong-gil somehow ended up hearing you push yourself over the edge in the shower in Boston and fingering you in your dressing room in Chicago before your performance. (Which, by the way, sort of made it hard to fully focus once you were on stage, but whatever.)

Your days simply get busier, what with the concerts and the extra American interviews both of your agencies agreed upon at the last minute. Some of them were chill, but most had those sneaky so are you two dating? kind of questions hidden among much better ones. Joong-gil did a great job at deflecting them, but deep down all you can say is that they made you want to scream. You’re definitely not dating but fuck, if he doesn’t give you those fingers of his one more time I swear to God I’ll go insane!

“What are you thinking about?” Joong-gil asks, looking up from the magazine he’s been reading (there’s a double-page picture of the two of you on the pages he has open right now, one of those you posed for during your last photoshoot in Korea) and turns to glance at you.

You don’t think that ‘your fingers in my pussy’ is an appropriate enough reply, so you babble the next best thing that pops up in your mind when you look out of the plane window to your right. “Can’t wait to have a few days off before our concerts back home.”

Maybe if you focus hard enough on the fluffy clouds outside, you’ll stop overthinking about the implications of everything the two of you have started doing together. Like spending time in either of your hotel rooms after livestreams to simply relax. Or like kissing before and after concerts. Or the way he moaned straight into your mouth when you were making out in your room in Atlanta.

Fuck, that sound has been stalking you even in your dreams ever since.

“What’s your plan for that?” He turns slightly towards you to give you his undivided attention and you don’t know why, really, but that small gesture makes you sort of warm and fuzzy inside.

Your gaze swipes past him to the next row in first class and then over the few seats you can see from yours, but no one’s paying attention to anything but their own business. “I’m going back home, gonna spend a few days with my mother. It’s been almost a year since I last saw her in person,” you reply. And then, before you can even ponder your words or even just realize what trajectory your brain’s following, you find yourself proposing, “you’re invited, if you’d like. If you have nothing else to do.”

He looks surprised for a moment, and you want to slap yourself on the mouth for being so stupid. You’re aware your proposal might have come off as a ‘we’ve been doing things together, so it’s time to meet the parents’, but he’s smiling before you’re done biting your tongue. “Sure, why not? I’ll book a hotel room as soon as we land.”

There’s a surge of courage bubbling up from within you, something you’ve never really had around him because at first you were too excited to even be offered a collaboration deal with the Park Joong-gil, then you were trying to always be professional, and then you were a bit too busy trying not to think about the way he makes you feel.

So, you end up saying, “you could… stay with us. My mother hasn’t had guests over in ages and I’m sure she’d love the company.”

Am I being too straightforward? Is it too early? Is this something like what Ryung-gu and I used to do, or is he really into me?

That’s how you end up brushing your teeth next to Joong-gil in your childhood home.

That’s also how you end up trying to convince your mother she won’t be having grand-children or attending your wedding all that soon.

We’re just friends – you say ‘friends’, not ‘colleagues’, and that somehow surprises you. Like that’s something you’ve never even considered – the possibility of you and Park Joong-gil becoming friends, and maybe going out for drinks together a few years down the line and reminiscing about this collab album you’re doing together now.

He doesn’t really look at you like you’re just a friend is her reply, one that haunts you during your concert back home in Busan and during the two you hold in Seoul.

You also end up going down on him in his Seoul penthouse apartment after your tour has been wrapped up, and that’s when your mother’s insinuation comes back. It confuses you, this thing you have with Joong-gil, but you barely have the time to think because he’s keeping you close to his pelvis with a hand on the back of your head, and all you can do is swallow around him.

The moan he lets out when he feels your throat constrict around his dick is loud and it goes straight to your core. It makes you moan in return and that’s when he warns you he’s close and pulls you off.

“Come in my mouth,” you plead, breathless – almost as breathless as he is. He looks so good staring down at you with hooded eyes, a light flush powdered over his cheeks and the upper part of his torso. Somehow, it makes you want to ruin him.

The sound he lets out is halfway between a moan and a groan, and he lets go of your hair in favor of wrapping his hand around his erection. You allow him a couple of strokes before you’re wrapping your lips around him again, and a swipe of your tongue on his frenulum is what pushes him over the edge and right down your throat when you take him all the way into your mouth.

Your hands caress up and down his thighs when he lets himself fall back onto his bed, and as he catches his breath, you pepper light kisses over his hips and abdomen. He looks and sounds so good that you can feel how uncomfortable the wetness in your panties is, but still don’t dare speak up.

“Fuck,” he pants, chuckling when he stretches a hand out for you to take. You intertwine your fingers with his and move to lie down next to him. “Let me see,” he pleads.

It takes you a couple of seconds to realize what he means, but then you show him you’ve swallowed every last drop by opening your mouth and pushing your tongue out.

“That was fucking sexy,” he groans before pulling you over onto him and kissing your breath away, licking into your mouth and making your heart almost give out in your chest.

Your phone rings.

“I gotta go now.”

He’s sitting up on his bed when you speak, after he’s tried – uselessly – to pay back the favor. His eyes follow your every move – the way you pick up your phone (almost a mirrored repetition of what happened in Atlanta), the way you check yourself out in the mirror of his dresser, how you hesitate for a second when you pick up your handbag from the floor.

“My manager’s asking for my whereabouts and I can’t exactly tell her what we’ve been doing here,” you chuckle, looking back at him just to find him two steps away, standing only in his boxers behind you.

He hums his agreement, but then surprises you by grabbing you by the hips and pulling you into his chest. Resisting the urge to wrap your arms around his neck or to press a kiss onto his skin takes everything you’ve got.

“I want to keep seeing you,” he confesses matter-of-factly, looking straight into your eyes. A smile tugs at the corners of his lips before he leans his head forward to peck your cheek. “I want to keep seeing you after this collab is wrapped up,” he repeats, this time whispering in your ear and making the baby hairs at the back of your neck stand up in gooseflesh.

“You do?” Somehow, you’re breathless. You barely even register it, with how wildly your heart is pounding in your chest and in your throat and – bonjour, finesse! – between your legs.

“Yep,” he chuckles. He pulls your pelvis right into his, and you feel how he’s getting hard again. If you don’t leave his house soon, you know you’ll be in trouble with your team, but at the moment you can barely even remember all the rules you have to follow. “I want to keep seeing you.” It’s the third time he says it, and you’re starting to believe his words. “I want to get to know all of you. I want to see what you look like naked, too.”

You can’t stop the giggle.

“I think it’s unfair you got to see me,” he whispers, rolling his hips into you, “and I couldn’t even take your panties off in that changing room. And then,” he continues, kissing down the side of your neck like you have all the time in the world, “I want to know how you feel around me. Wanna be so deep inside you that all you can remember is my name. Because that’s how I felt not even five minutes ago.”

A shiver runs up your whole body, from toes to head, and it pulls a low moan from your lips before you can even swallow it back. The way you’re throbbing makes you feel like you’re definitely going to lose your mind.

Forty-five minutes later you’re lying naked on your bed – after having managed to send your manager back home and after the coldest shower of your life. But Joong-gil is still on loop in your mind: his moans, the way he cradled your face when you knew he wanted to let go and fuck your throat but held back, and then the way he confessed his desire to keep on seeing you outside of work. It works you up like crazy and it’s delusional of you to think you’d ever be able to stop your hands from wandering down your body – your breasts, your belly, and then finally between your legs.

You’re so wet you almost shoot him a text, but then you start burning in embarrassment and the only thing you can think of to distract yourself is to tease your entrance before pushing two fingers in.

This time is different from that one in a hotel shower, when you had to be quick to stop yourself from drowning in your sense of guilt. This time you have all the time in the world, and working yourself up with the memory of Joong-gil in your mouth so fresh in your mind is extremely easy. Your toes curl, and your back arches, and your breathing is labored, scorching hot and loud, although not as loud as the squelching of your juices.

You’re not even aware of the way you’re dripping onto the fresh bedspread, nor can you really control the volume of your moans when you bring back the memory of him fingering you. You’ve never appreciated the soundproof system of your apartment as much as you do now, as you have three fingers massaging that one spot deep inside you while your other hand plays with your breasts.

The pleasure builds up and up, like it doesn’t ever want to stop, and you’re burning and doing your best to keep that moan of Joong-gil’s name trapped inside your chest. But then your hand brushes your clit and you’re coming, your orgasm crashing down on you as though it wants to pull you down under and never let you back up.

It does take you forever to come down from it. You put the ceiling of your bedroom into focus before you actually realize how erratic your heartbeat still is or how the tenderness of your pussy makes your thighs tremble when you trail your hand upward to rest it on your lower belly.

The ring of a notification comes at the same time your brain has the lucidity to think I need another shower.

It takes you a good five minutes to fully get back to your senses and stop thinking about Joong-gil’s lips on you, and at first you think about ignoring your phone. It’s late and you’re tired and overstimulated, and despite having a whole day for yourself tomorrow, you feel like you should take tonight off as well. But then a million and one thoughts start wracking you, and with a groan, you pick up your phone from the nightstand.

To your surprise, you read Joong-gil’s name on the screen and faster than you’d ever thought you would, you find yourself clicking on his text message.

[9:07 PM] Park Joong-gil: was thinking about you. what are you doing?

You feel your face grow hotter and you can’t help but giggle excitedly, slightly kicking your feet in the air before quickly venting to Bit-na. It’s been a while since the last time you felt this childish, but it’s not in a bad way this time, and it feels really good.

Still, you have no clue where you find the courage to text Joong-gil back:

[9:13 PM] you: wishing my fingers were yours

Another squeal rushes past your lips as you lock your phone and throw it at the foot of the bed. God, you feel like you’re sixteen all over again, when you were still crushing on that classmate of yours, Min-ho, who used to be a math genius and a Prince Charming.

Instead of a text reply, however, your phone starts ringing with an incoming call that makes your heart skip a beat inside your chest. Panic flashes past your thoughts for a split second, but then you convince yourself to grab your phone and lie back down while you answer, part of you expecting for it to be Bit-na.

It’s Joong-gil, of course. Bit-na is out on a date and you know it well, but hope is always the last spark to go out.

“So, you were saying…?” You see the smugness in his smirk, but it’s hard to focus when he has one arm bent behind his head as he sits in bed with his back against the headboard. The faint hickey you left on his collarbone is right there, staring right back at you, and you have to press your thighs together because all you can think of is the afternoon you spent making out and then sucking him off.

“You read it right the first time,” you stagger, trying to keep your phone angled in such a way that only your face and neck are visible.

“Are you naked?” He moves closer to the screen for a second before he sits back again. His smirk turns into an actual grin, and the spark in his eyes makes you want to gush out about him to Bit-na for the rest of the fucking month.

“Yeah,” you breathe out.

“Show me?”

You don’t know where you find it in yourself to counter-attack until you hear yourself speak. “You first.”

You really thought you could have a smart moment, but when he tilts his phone to show you he’s only topless but still wearing a pair of navy blue pajama pants, you realize you’ve simply tricked yourself.

“That’s not fair.”

Your pout only makes him chuckle, but you’re still teasing enough to show yourself only up till the top of your breasts.

“Where’s the rest?”

“You’ll have to come see it in person.” This time you know you have the upper hand. He might be the country’s crush, but you’re still sensual enough to play your game.

He looks genuinely sad when he says, “my schedule is full till the end of the month and I want to spend more than just five minutes with you.”

He’s told you countless times today that he’s seriously interested in getting to know you, but it’s still surprising yet heartwarming to find confirmation of that yet again in his words.

“So you were serious? This afternoon.”

“That I wanna pursue you?” When you nod, he continues, “never been more serious.”

You end up talking about the tour you’ve just wrapped up, about a song he’d love to collab with you on once again, maybe next year, and about how fun it was to work together. When you go to bed that night, after a late night snack and a quick shower, you realize you’ve been on the phone for almost three hours and that you’ve never felt this comfortable with him ever.

Park Joong-gil is the last thought on your mind when you eventually fall asleep.

They say absence makes the heart grow fonder. However, you find yourself realizing how slowly the seconds can tick by and it’s a never-ending surprise to find out how much pent-up frustration your body can bottle up while you wait until the end of the month for your date. You still don’t have the details; you don’t even have a date, Joong-gil hasn’t set it yet, but that’s still your one and only thought.

Lim Ryung-gu reads you much better than Bit-na ever could, what with the distance or the fact that while you finally have more free time now that your comeback is behind your back, your best friend’s work life has slowly turned into a nightmare, preventing you from video calling. And, truly, maybe that’s a blessing in disguise because you hate the fact that Joong-gil is capable of affecting you this much without even trying, but at the same time it’s nice to have something other than work or anxiety making your heartrate pick up.

You’re in the studio with Ryung-gu one chilly afternoon towards the end of September. The RMT guys are going through a chill stretch of time before their end-of-year performance, and while Ryeon and Joon-woong are taking advantage of this time to get some more sleep in, Ryung-gu is still busy producing. You technically shouldn’t be allowed previews of their music, but the four of you are pretty much your agency’s money-makers, so there’s really no one stopping you.

“How’s it going with Park Joong-gil?” Ryung-gu absentmindedly asks, eyes fixed on the music software he’s been playing with all day.

You’ve been keeping him up-to-date with the most important things, unable to take your mind off of Joong-gil. It’s almost as though he’s one of your most recurrent thoughts nowadays; the situation wasn’t this bad even when you were spending all your time together during your tour or during the whole album-creation process.

“It’s… I don’t really know,” you shrug your shoulders, sucking pomegranate juice through the straw. “He’s busy now and I feel like I’m all of a sudden losing my mind for him.”

Ryung-gu clicks around on the screen, switching between pieces of software and tweaking his lyrics around, but then he turns towards you and gives you his full attention. “Too busy to even text?”

You feel how your face starts burning and when you avert your gaze from him, he must take it the wrong way, for he says,

“That’s a lame excuse.”

“No, I mean, we’ve been… texting,” you admit eventually, your exhale quivering at the thought of the kind of texts that have been going back and forth between the two of you on your burner phone.

“Why that pause?” But then, a second later, it must hit him. “Sexting? You’ve been sexting with the Park Joong-gil?” Surprise is as clear as day both in his voice and on his face, his eyes wide and his mouth agape.

You hide behind your can of juice, but it’s hard to wipe that wide grin off your lips. Joong-gil’s groggy morning voice last week still affects you to this day when you replay it in your head – can’t wait to have my hands on you is part of what he left in your voicemail before heading out for his day a few hours before you even had the chance to wake up.

“Damn, I didn’t picture him to be the sexting type. He seems… intimidating, sometimes.”

You have to agree with him. Your collab brought along one surprise after the other, and it’s almost hard to believe people are still talking about it weeks after it ended.

“I think I really want to try this thing with him,” you say – to Ryung-gu or to yourself, you really don’t know as you look out the narrow window to your side. You see the top of a tree from there, its branches moving in the wind, and the clouds run by fast in the sunny sky. “I think I want to have with him what you have with your person, but at the same time I’m afraid this is too much too fast.”

Ryung-gu doesn’t say anything for what feels like the longest time, looking out the window, too, lost in thought. Maybe he’s thinking about his person, you assume, and for a moment you wonder how fast things moved between them before they started being an item. You wish he would tell you more about them, but at the same time you appreciate the privacy he allows his relationship.

“I think you should go for it, then,” he says eventually, moving his gaze from the view outside to your face. He’s smiling, and in that split second you realize why nothing’s ever felt rushed between the two of you. He puts you at ease; there’s probably no one else in Seoul you’re this comfortable around. It’s not just because of the sexual sort-of relationship you agreed upon, with its sporadic encounters you’ve had when either or both of you were too stressed to even breathe. It’s him, and his aura, that unperturbed calm that follows him around wherever he goes. “One step at a time. There’s no too fast or too slow. And if it doesn’t work out…” he shrugs, “at least you can say you tried.”

You nod in agreement. “You don’t think he’s into me just for the sex, do you?”

His gaze is stern for just a moment before he starts cackling. “I’ve seen your interviews together,” he replies when his laughter subsides, “and the interviews he’s given on his own. I think he’s genuinely into you as a person, I don’t know why you don’t see that, too.”

You decide to believe your friend, even when his question – are you into Joong-gil just for the sex? – starts eating away at the back of your mind with the only purpose of trying to make you doubt everything you know about him. It was a rhetorical question, of course, not Ryung-gu implying you’re into Joong-gil just for his dick or the way he still teases you about that one time you confessed to fingering yourself to the thought of him, but it’s still enough to leave you frustrated.

Some more days pass, and there’s an actual attempt of getting to know the little things about the both of you in-between the teasing texts you send each other. You find out he’s into martial arts and that he actually used to compete at national level, when he was younger. He learns you make origami when you’re sad, after he’s seen the collection you have in your living room on a video call, and that you have this one scar on the back of your left thigh from that one time you slipped on a rock at the beach, when you were eight and your mother on a business trip, and your father had panicked so much that you had had to calm him down.

Eventually, Joong-gil sets the date on his first day off – saturday night. I’m taking you to eat the best food in Seoul, he promised, and there’s no muffling the excitement that grows and grows inside you with each day that passes.

The anticipation is much better than the absence, that’s for sure, and when saturday night comes around, you get ready by doing your make-up and putting on that nice black dress you modeled for during that one fashion campaign last year. It’s a pity that you never got to wear it before, but it’s also exciting to know you’re wearing it for the first time on a date with someone so charming.

Yun-ho rings at your door at six on the dot, and then he leads you down to the underground garage of your condominium. For a moment you worry it’s just going to be you and him in the car, but when he opens the back door of a dark SUV with tinted windows, you find Joong-gil already sitting there on the back seat waiting for you.

You panic when you take in his outfit – light jeans and a maroon turtleneck that make you wonder whether he has given you the details after all and you simply didn’t notice in the excitement of the moment. “Am I overdressed?” you fret, buckling yourself in when his manager starts the car.

“On the contrary.” Joong-gil looks you up and down. He eyes the slit in the long skirt of your dress, the way the jewel shoulder straps twinkle in the light of the streetlamps, and then back down over the swell of your breasts and to the high-heeled sandals you wore. “You’re breathtaking.”

You want to tell him that he is breathtaking with the way he’s staring at you, almost like you hung the stars in the night sky and lit every single light in Seoul yourself. “Well, if anything, I’m not underdressed for wherever we’re going,” you say as a way to calm your nerves – you don’t even remember when the last time you went out on an actual date was.

“Oh, I know the owner,” Joong-gil grins, taking your hand in his and interlacing his fingers with yours. His hand is warm; it reminds you of the things he’s used it on you for – tuck your hair behind your ear but also finger you on a make-up desk. “He’ll have nothing to complain about.”

As it turns out, he is the owner. After a detour to not let you guess exactly where he was taking you, you find yourself stepping out of the car and into the underground garage of his apartment building, and then up the twenty-four floors to his apartment.

It hits you as soon as you step through his door, the fact that the last time you were here things could have gone much further than they actually did. You still feel the way he kissed you when he walked you backward into his apartment and the way his hands roamed your body before you eventually ended up on your knees for him.

Catching yourself red-handed, you force your train of thoughts to take another direction. After swapping your heels for the pair of house slippers Joong-gil gives you, you follow him into the open living area. It’s there, on the dining table, that you see all that food and your jaw drops.

“Where did you get all this?” you gawk, all kinds of delicious aromas tickling your nostrils and making your mouth salivate.

He’s smug when he looks at you before being the gentleman he is and pushing your chair closer to the table once you sit down. “I should’ve mentioned I’m a fairly decent cook,” he grins, moving to sit opposite you.

It’s then that you notice your favorite side dish, the one you told him about at your mother’s house and how you’ve never eaten it again after your father passed away. There’s another one, closer to him, that you suddenly remember praising a couple of times when you were still in the songwriting process of your collab album and used to spend entire nights in the studio.

It touches something inside you, the way he seems to have actually paid attention to your likes and dislikes, even though you just mentioned them or they never felt like they were truly that important. But you’re either good at hiding the pleasant surprise, or he simply doesn’t point it out when you start eating.

It’s quiet at first – you just feel his eyes on you as you bring food to your mouth and enjoy your dinner in silence. It doesn’t last long, however: he really is great at cooking – and not simply ‘fairly decent’ as he said – and compliments after compliments start spilling out of your mouth. This is so tasty, or I remember my grandma used to make it just like this!, or I can’t believe you cooked this yourself. It flusters him, and he’s such an endearing sight. This tall, dark, intimidating man when it comes to the heights of your industry really did go out of his way after a booked-out month just to cook your favorite things.

You could smooch his whole face right here and now.

By the time all the plates have been emptied, you’re full as an egg.

“Was it good?” he asks, a satisfied smirk on his lips, leaning back into his chair, one arm stretched out on the table and the other hooked on the back of his chair. Sitting like that, with that turtleneck fitting him like a glove, he feels like a whole course of desserts.

“It was incredible,” you gush out again, beaming, lightly massaging your stomach with one hand.

It hits you then, that you could play dirty and tease him the way he’s been teasing you all this time. You don’t even know what you’re talking about, just that you’re somehow keeping up with him, when you decide to strike. You remove a slipper under the table and stretch your leg out to play with his ankle.

He jolts slightly, and there’s an automatic “What are you doing?” slipping past his lips that just tugs at yours.

“What do you mean?” You lean forward, and you’ve acted in your fair share of dramas at the beginning of your career to be able to effortlessly pull off the most innocent of expressions. “I’m just playing a little game.”

Your foot trails up his shin and you have to control the impulse to laugh at what you’re doing.

“You’ve been teasing me all this time after that evening… It’s only fair that I have my payback,” you grin.

“Is that why you went braless?”

Your grin widens. So he has noticed, you think. You want to keep just for yourself how gentlemanly he is, however – not pointing it out, and not staring at your chest, either. Not that him being everyone’s heartthrob is surprising, but you keep on noticing the little things now and it’s those little things that make you fall for him a little more each day. How considerate he is. How attentive to the little things he is.

Or even how fucking sexy he looks right now, as he rounds the dining table to come pull you to your feet.

His hands trail up your arms, and you do your best to hold his eye contact despite the fact that you feel yourself melting in front of him into a puddle of hormones.

“Fuck,” he groans, letting his hands come up to your shoulders. He plays with the straps of your dress almost as though he’s considering pushing them down your arms, but he doesn’t. What he does, however, is move his hands down your body to grab your hips. “You make staying away so fucking hard.”

It’s like there’s just the two of you – which is technically correct since no one else is in his apartment, but at the same time it’s like there’s nothing outside the walls of his home, just the two of you inside.

There’s a tiny voice at the back of your mind that whimpers at how desperately you want him inside of you, but that’s a story for another time.

“Then don’t.”

You pull in him for a kiss, and it doesn’t take long for one of his hands to creep up your chest and grab a boob through your dress.

“I still want to play a game, though,” you smirk when you pull back, just in time to see that look of suspicion flash across his gaze.

“I already know I’m going to regret playing along with this.” He lightly pinches one of your nipples before his hands are back on the crystal straps of your dress. When you nod your consent, he pushes them down your shoulders and takes a step back to take in how it reveals your body as it glides to the floor. Your breasts, and your stomach, and your legs. Fuck, no one’s looked at you the way he is right now.

You sure hope no one in the skyscraper opposite his apartment complex will see you through his windows.

“My busy weeks are about to start,” you say, stepping out of your dress and moving closer to him. His hands guide yours to the waistband of his jeans and you don’t hesitate when it comes to unbuttoning and unzipping them.

“What about that?” He’s trying his best to keep his breathing even, but you see how it’s not really working when your hand sneaks into his pants, your palm pressing right against his hardening cock through his underwear.

“I think we should wait,” you whisper against the side of his neck before licking a stripe against his skin. He shudders, and you’re loving your upper hand for once.

“Fuck that.” He removes your hand from his pants and picks you up. He walks up to the couch and sits down with you in his lap, and this time it’s not like in Atlanta. This time he pulls you down flush against him from the get go so that you can feel exactly what you do to him. “Why wait when we’re both here now?” You swallow his groan when you roll your hips against him just once.

“You can touch me,” you murmur, taking both of his hands in yours before guiding them onto your breasts. “And I will touch you,” you reassure him when he shoots you a burning gaze.

You’re pulling his pullover out of the waistband of his jeans when he asks, “but?”

He hisses and then shudders when you graze the skin of his abdomen with your nails. His reaction makes you smirk and the only way to hide your satisfied expression is by leaning in closer to him so that you can mock-bite the skin of his neck. You remember that part of his body to be sensitive from the one time you ended up giving him a blowjob, and he doesn’t disappoint you – he bucks his hips up and pulls your head back so that he can crash his lips into yours.

It’s distracting, the way he kisses you. All-consuming, like he can’t get enough of you and this is the next best thing he’s thought of to be as humanly close as possible to you when he’s still fully dressed. One of his hands trails down your back and slips into the back of your panties before he’s grabbing tight onto your buttcheek and kneading it. You’re pretty sure that if he moved his hand a little more down, those long fingers of his would be able to feel how absolutely drenched you are.

But then you remember what you were trying to say, that stupid little game that suddenly popped up in your mind when you realized how fucking bad you wanted his dick – but with feelings. You pull away, gasping for hair, and when you meet his eye he’s already staring at you with that heated gaze of his. If your panties weren’t soaked before, they sure as hell are now.

“No fucking,” you pant, sliding your right hand up along his chest and brushing your thumb across his nipple. You don’t really know what he feels for you aside from the lust that always drips from his racy texts, but you still want him to crumble for you just as much as you do him. “No sex until I’m free again.”

“When’s that gonna be?” He’s already regretting doing this, but there’s also a curious spark behind the lust in his eyes, and you absolutely love the way he pulls you closer by your ass on his dick, even though the fly of his jeans grazes your inner thighs. “Hm? How long’s that gonna be?”

You shrug your shoulders. “Mid-November, most likely.”

He gapes, speechless, but he still lets you take his turtleneck off. “You’re crazy. You can’t be for real.”

You don’t even hide that amused smirk this time. You simply lean into him fully, chest-to-chest, and press a wet kiss right underneath his jaw. The throbbing in your pussy picks up when you feel the light twitch of his dick in his briefs. “Don’t you think it’s gonna be worth it?”

“I think you’re gonna make me lose my mind,” he flat out whines, wrapping his arms around you tight enough to make you stop teasing him. “Fuck, can’t you feel me twitch?”

You can, and you’re doing your best to ignore that.

“It’s gonna be fun,” you murmur, gently sucking a hickey into his neck – probably against your better judgment, but your tits pressing into his chest and his clothed cock pressing against your core.

“It’s gonna be torture,” he retorts, kissing your shoulder. He’s so gentle that gooseflesh breaks out all over your body, and you’re forced to pull back and rest your forearms on his shoulders to stop yourself from giving in to him.

“You will survive,” you chuckle. “And then you’ll be able to have me however you like.”

“Can I at least eat you out now?”

You peck his lips, and he’s quick at opening his mouth to deepen the kiss for a moment before pulling back. “I don’t know,” you pant. “Can you?”

Unlike Instagram, Tumblr runs on reblogs, so if you’re in the mood, kindly consider leaving a comment and/or sharing this fic with your friends. However, any form of feedback is welcome :)

If you’d like to be tagged in what I write, let me know!

Original video used for banner: https://www.pexels.com/video/close-up-video-of-dried-roses-6092477/

#mbc tomorrow #tomorrow #kdrama #park joong-gil #park joong gil #mbc tomorrow imagine #tomorrow 내일 #park joong-gil imagine #park joong-gil x reader #park joong-gil smut #park joong gil imagine #park joong gil x reader #park joong gil smut #park joong-gil au #park joong gil au

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enheeki · 1 year

Text

movie night | n.riki

pairing: riki x reader

genre: fluff !

wc: 457

synopsis: it’s a chilly day in the middle of fall. you have a day off from school so you decide to have a movie night with your bf niki!

a/n: i wrote this at 1am like a few weeks ago ermm… this is my first fic so hopefully it's not too bad ! omg i also just realized tomorrow, as of me posting this, is halloween so happy halloween !! like the timing couldn't have been better lol

“NISHIMURA RIKI YOU GET BACK HERE!”

loud laughs and cackles fill the room. you’re practically chasing him around the living room when you suddenly trip and fall with a loud thud. “OW WHAT THE HELL”

as if he wasn’t already out of breath from running around and cackling so much, he manages to let out a louder laugh “BWAHAHA SERIOUSLY Y/N HOW DID YOU EVEN FALL??” after catching his breath, he attempts to help you up, but not before you kick him right in the shin. he falls to his knees, and now you’re the one bursting out laughing.

“oh you’re gonna get it now-“ he grabs the closest pillow he can find off the couch and starts smacking you with it. you’re laughing even more now, shielding your face with your hands and kicking your feet around hoping that you’d end up kicking him.

“ok, ok! riki that’s enough! i’m tired!” you uncover your face, ready to get smacked in the face one last time, but instead are greeted to his fingers pinching your cheeks.

“has anyone ever told you that you’re so cute?” riki says with a pout on his face along with a baby voice.

“yeah, i’ve been told once or twice.” you tell him, smiling. he gives you a soft smile back and kisses your forehead.

“ok movie time!” he gets up full of excitement and helps you up with the biggest smile on his face.

“i’ll get the blankets and pillows upstairs, you make the popcorn!” he nods, and you run up to your room to prepare all your stuff.

cuddling under the blanket, your grip tightens around riki as another jumpscare comes on screen.

“AHH WHAT THE HELL. WHAT ABOUT MY SANITY??” you yell at the screen. riki let out a chuckle.

you glared at him. “don’t laugh at me. i’m only putting up with this because you’re here.” you go back to covering your face with your hands, leaving a slight gap in between your fingers so you know what’s happening in the movie.

riki knew you didn’t like horror movies. he also knew that you’d watch them as long as you had him by your side, even if he was gonna get beaten up by the end of it.

he felt like he was your protector. the way you would squeeze his hand when you just knew a jumpscare was about to happen. he felt comforted in the way you leaned towards him, shielding your eyes with your hands and hiding your face in the crook of his neck. because of that, halloween was definitely one of his favorite times of the year. he felt so lucky that he got to share little moments like this with you.

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anticipatedexhale · 2 years

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"Why did I fall in love with you again?"

Eddie munson x fem! Reader

A/n: ok so listen up this is kind of a kingdom au? I really thought this au/trope would fit eddie and thought this would make a change from my usual fics.

Warnings: cursing, angst to fluff, angry reader, Also very annoying eddie (but in a cute way), enemies to lovers, injuries (yk i can't go a fic without this), confessions, a very shit title, think that's it?.

Conversation with you and Eddie were only bickering, most people told you that you both looked like an old couple, which annoyed you to no end. Knowing that eddie also hung onto that phrase.

"Oh god please give me the patients i need." you said sighing as eddie followed you everywhere you went since the moment you opened your eyes that day. "Don't you mean strength?" he said grabbing an empty basket near, "if i was given strength i would've killed you a long time ago" you said before ripping the basket away from his grip.

"Aw come on now i know you love me" he said, "i despise you." you said in a cold tone "yeahh..no you don't".

You rolled your eyes at his words, gosh how could you handle him everyday is what you always asked yourself.

A knight walked up to both you with a every worried and scared look on his face, "your highness, captain we are under attack we've tried evacuating everyone but we couldn't they got us first" he said as he tried to catch his breath.

You and Eddie shared looks and looked back at the knight who was basically shaking in his gear.

"we'll be there you try your best to keep them away" you said as he nodded running out.

Both you and Eddie got ready for the what so called "attack", it looked worse than that. You watched carefully as the whole kingdom went into chaos.

It was getting darker and darker as the fight continued, stepping on random corpses, multiple injuries and blood smeared everywhere wasn't exactly a sight to see.

"you know your highness i would say i value my opinion more than yours but in this situation you seriously need to make a decision" Eddies said now holding his sword tightly.

"What the fuck am i supposed to say, please stop this and let's all be friends so we can live a happy ending" you said faking high pitched tone.

"well we could just run away" he offered with a smirk, you rolled your eyes for the hundredth time today "don’t be ‘smart’. The battlefield is no place for Math Scholars." you pushed him away from you.

"oh come on your highness i know you care for me". "Stop talking or tomorrow won’t come." you said giving him a quick glance.

“Please don’t look at me with such hatred.” he said again with that pouty fake sad tone, you would've killed him if you weren't in a middle of almost war.

“I shouldn’t care for your life, but I’m starting to and it’s becoming an inconvenience.” you said lowly hoping he wouldn't hear, other than the disturbing sounds the are around you finally felt peace hearing eddie finally shut up.

"w-what?" he said silently. "what do you mean!" he said raising his voice as you stared walking away from him.

"HEY NO COME BACK" he started running towards soon enough he blocked your view standing now right infront of you.

"what the hell did you mean back there" he said voice now serious, you looked up finally locking your eyes with his “God Why did I fall in love with you again? you are the most annoying human being on earth”

You walked further leaving him frozen in place.

You felt blood dribble down your face as you slowly walked around the battle fields, those fuckers were gone but there damage wasn't.

You spotted the familiar long curly hair you've grown to love, you sighed remembering what you've said to eddie just hours ago.

You slowly sat down next to him, "hey" you said watching some of your people helping each other out and some going out for materials.

You heard nothing in return "hey! Why aren't you replying to me dumbass" you turned seeing that his hands were cold now, injuries scattered across his pretty face.

"Eddie?.." you whispered getting no response. "shit shit no no come on wake up you can't do this" you tried lifting him up getting him help immediately.

It was almost sunrise as you sat beside eddie on the nursing bed. Slowly caressing his scars on his face, carefully as to not hurt him.

God the thought of him dying and you not getting the chance to apologize hit you hard.

Couple of hours later you heard a groan, you shot your head up to see Eddie trying to sit up, "hey hey be careful" you said helping him out.

"hey sweetheart missed me?" he said with a cheeky grin on his face, yeah you knew he'd be ok. You hugged him..tight, he gasped at the feeling not being used to you being affectionate with him at all.

But he wasn't complaining. "im sorry" you said almost a whisper eddie would have missed it if you weren't so close to him.

"why are you apologizing your highness" he said now face to face with you, lips almost touching.

"I was so stupid to call you annoying i just didn't know how to handle my feelings and i know this is like really fucking stupid and dumb yeah i know but i couldn't imagine a life without you and i just love you so-" he stopped your very stupid rambling with a kiss.

A kiss that was very much long awaited from both of you. A kiss that was very much needed.

A kiss filled with all the love and adoration you both had for eachother even though it was never said out loud.

"Remember when we used to hate each other?" he said smiling at you, you gave him back a teary eyed smile before pecking his lips again.

You both enjoyed the comfortable silence around. Not being so used to it.

"You know eddie you tell a single soul about this and you will never see the light of day again." you said looking at his gorgeous brown eyes.

"There you are my sweetheart i wondered were you went" he said happily both of you falling into fits of giggles.

Yeah you both really were an old couple.

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yanderelovlies · 1 year

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✨Galaxy Anon ✨ here!

I’m doing good. Sorry I didn’t respond for a day. I was really busy that day and hardly had energy to respond! Are you well?

We all need some Joseph in our lives. Also did you see the new designs for the sunny day Jack characters? What’s your opinion and also what’s your favorite artsyle for the characters? I like the second phase the best. They look the best in that.

Yes like I actually forgot what a noun and a verb is and I feel so stupid. Have faith dude you have great work!

At least you stood your ground and that must’ve been awkward I would’ve said no and try to escape as fast as I can.

Thanks I really hope so too. Honestly I know this isn’t the worst situation at least my other co workers leave me alone and don’t antagonize me or anything

Nice. Though I will see if I could do it since my mom is home when I am and she doesn’t know about all of this and definitely would not approve. Also because I usually don’t share my discord since it’s very private to me. I mean only one person I know has my information there and I also suck at discord since I don’t know what the hell I’m doing so I have to think about to share my discord with you. No offense just it’s very private to me. She must’ve seen some shit because people come with weird injuries sometimes or even brutal ones. Oh yeah cuts are scary sometimes especially since I never seen it but one I heard a kid had a cut so bad that you could see the bone and apparently he didn’t even cry. Fucking nightmare fuel there.

That had to be a bitch honestly. Since you had to be a parent in a young age you had less time for school and even less for personal time which everyone needs. That’s actually concerning since lots would get suspicious at this point. Then again if they intervened they mostly wouldn’t care why just the fact you kissed school and think you’re a trouble kid or something. Yeah it adds up since doing both really can put a burden and a heavy load on someone. Wish I could’ve done that because kids are mean as hell but man that must’ve been a lot of days. It’s no problem at all, you deserve to have a listening ear and be able to get that weight off your chest. Thanks viví I will when I’m ready since not to mention I will delete my current account but no worries it’s just to make a new one to start fresh honestly.

Guess we have the fic to thank for this poll and now we getting more smutty works~ Hey I think it’s good, one of the best I’ve seen in this fandom.

It's okay galaxy take the time you need. Life can get busy I'm just glad you are okay 💕 um today wasn't my best day, but I'm sure it will be better tomorrow.

I did! Personally I think they are all so nicely done, and it's so amazing how they've improved over time. I won't lie I really love the current style. It's so pretty and eye-catching.

I've done that before it was so fucking embarrassing lmao. Also thank you dear 💕

It was at first and I felt bad, but I was having a hard time there and I couldn't stay longer then what I had to.

That's true. I hope it stays that way.

That's no problem at all! If you don't feel comfortable with giving discord I totally get it. It was really just a silly suggestion 💕. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. Yeah she has seen some shit, and she isn't afraid to share stories. Even when she talks about them I cringe and she just laughs at me lol.

It did take a tole more long-term honestly. Let's just say I'm socially awkward in person and get terrible anxiety in public. I've gotten better thanks to the effort, but I still have a hard time making friends. So when I lost my group recently it's been hard. It's no problem galaxy take all the time you need. I'll be here 💕💕

I'm excited to share them when they are ready tbh.

#vivi talks #galaxy anon

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captainsgr · 3 years

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Dear the person reading this, I hope your day is filled with love and happiness!! ♡ (send this to 5 people you LOVE and think they need) -- ✨💚

I DID need this today because exams are stupid <3 ty!! I want to send this right on back to you but I won’t so I can continue the chain, just know that I want to!!!!!

#ask #heyquxxns #also I’m hoping I can catch up on your fic tomorrow so be ready for my Thoughts

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piratesfromspace · 3 years

Text

Finance Management (Deckard Shaw/Reader)

Deckard Shaw (Fast & Furious) x Reader

Word count: 1.9k CW: mention of food & alcohol, smut

Female reader

Note: This short fic has been inspired by a friend of mine who created the character of the financial advisor of mister Shaw. Also there is not enough fics with Deckard Shaw so here we are.

Read on Ao3

MASTERLIST

“Mister Shaw, it’s me again, I’m so sorry but I really need you to call me back please. It’s important. Thank you.”

You let out a deep sigh as you hang up. Handling the finances of rich people is a lucrative and thrilling job, but damn it sometimes those clients of yours are annoying. Especially Mister Shaw.

First, he’s annoyingly busy and unreachable. Most powerful people are, but he can disappear for weeks on end without so much as sending an email.

Second, he’s also infuriatingly handsome and smart and funny. And he has an impeccable sense of style. He has nothing in common with the other clients of your firm, mainly old and boring men, whose only conversation subject is their money and how they hate their wives.

And finally, the worst thing about him is how good of a lover he is. You found out half a year ago, when you ended up in his bed after what should have been a regular business dinner. It was a mistake of course. One that could have cost you your career because it was a very serious breach of contract to sleep with a client.

You never told a soul, and you promised yourself to never do it again. But it was still hard to forget the feeling of him pressed against you, of his hands holding your waist, of his mouth between your thighs...

You try to focus again on your task and stretch your legs, kicking out your high heels. Feet bare on the soft carpet, you walk to the floor-to-ceiling window of your posh office, taking a second to admire the view, as the final rays of the sun disappear over the lake, and Geneva lights up under you. It’s breath-taking, really. But it also means you’re once again staying way too late at the office. Your assistant has gone home a couple hours ago, and your colleagues are either on vacation or on business trips, making you the only person on the building’s 7th floor. You still have a few things to finish so you plop on your leather chair and get back to work, hoping to make it home before 11pm.

That’s when you hear it: the familiar *ding* of the elevator’s door, at the end of the corridor. You tense immediately. You’re not waiting for anyone, and the security guards always use the stairs when completing their patrol.

Steps are coming down your way, and you grab your phone, ready to dial for the security team. And then you recognize his silhouette through the polished glass wall. There is a knock on your door before it opens to reveal Deckard Shaw himself. He’s wearing an expensive suit and an even more expensive watch, a very light stubble is highlighting his perfect jawbone and his deep grey eyes bear a mischievous glint. Handsome, as always.

“Mister Shaw…” you stammer.

“You know you can call me Deckard.” His stupidly sexy British accent and cocky smile will be the death of you.

He’s been in your office for two seconds and you already want to slap him in the face - or climb him like a tree, you can’t really decide.

“It’s quite late, Mister Shaw, you scared me. Anything I can do for you?” you insist on saying his family name, in a feeble attempt to maintain a professional façade.

“You needed to see me.” it’s more a comment than a question, and you’re suddenly reminded of the dozen of unanswered phone calls you made trying to reach him.

“Yes… yes, that’s right, but honestly you could have called tomorrow morning.”

“I’d rather see you in person.” he answers, looking you straight in the eyes. You can feel yourself blushing under his gaze. “Wanted to make sure you’re alright. You’re working too much you know.” he says with a soft smile, as his eyes drift down to your sore bare feet and then to the discarded heels under your desk.

What a condescending prick, you think. But at the same time, he’s right and his care seems somewhat genuine. It will not make you forget you almost lost your job because of him though.

“How did you know I was still here tonight?” you purposely redirect the attention on him, rather than you.

“Well, let’s say I would not leave the woman in charge of my assets without any... supervision.”

“Is that a polite way to say you’ve been spying on me?” you retort dryly.

“Oh I love when you’re getting all angry and snobbish, your French accent is even cuter.”

You’re gonna murder him. You really really want to tell him to go fuck himself, but he’s the one responsible for a very generous part of your paycheck, so you have to keep quiet.

“I would be more comfortable if we keep our conversation strictly professional, Mister Shaw.”

“Everything you want, dear.”

-----

“Mmph, fu-ck... Deckard, don’t stop”

The professional attitude has been long forgotten, since Deckard has pulled you onto his lap on the velvet couch of his presidential suite at the Four Seasons hotel, where you were supposed to only review the important documents he needed to see. But when the room service had brought a very nice bottle of Scotch, you knew you were screwed. You could not refuse a drink, and the warmth of alcohol combined with the warmth of his hand slightly brushing against your thigh had overcome all your resolve.

You are now sprawled on the king-size bed, moaning his name as Deckard Shaw is destroying your sanity very methodically. One foot on the floor, one leg bent on the edge of the bed, he’s pounding into you, holding your hip with one hand, and circling your clit with the other. His pace is calculated, not too fast so you can feel every inch of him, but not too slow so your nerves don’t have any respite, and it’s driving you crazy. Hands tangled in the dark silk sheets beneath you, you try to catch your breath to no avail.

“I won’t stop darling. Not until I can feel you coming again all over me.” His voice is like heavy honey, dripping all over your senses, drowning you in sweet and sinful promises.

You want to close your eyes to focus on the overwhelming feelings, but the view in front of you is too good to be missed. He looks like some demi-god, bathed in the subdued light of the room, broad and muscular chest, abs perfectly drawn. What is his job again? You vaguely remember him talking about serving a few years in the military when he was younger, but he is still definitely hitting the gym on a regular basis.

His muscles flex when he brings you down on his thick cock a little more sharply than before, and you keen as he hits that perfect spot inside of you. You can feel your orgasm build again, and so can he.

“You’re close, princess, aren’t you?”

You mewl in response and he chuckles darkly, keeping up with his ruthless assault on your most sensitive parts. He angles his fingers just a bit differently on your clit, and keeps thrusting into you, stretching you so perfectly you can’t remember the last time someone fucked you this good - wait , actually you can, it was a few months ago and it was by mister Deckard “annoyingly perfect” Shaw.

“Come on, I know you want to, I’ll keep going until you give me one more anyway princess…”

And that's it. You’re gone. Back arching off the bed, you come hard, harder than the first time, clenching around him. You barely hear him hiss in pleasure as you spasm helplessly on the soft sheets, the silk feeling almost cool against your burning skin.

----

“Good morning darling."

You open an eye, natural light is flooding the room, as is the delicious smell of fresh coffee and tea. At the foot of the bed, you spot a room service trolley loaded with breakfast treats and through the open door of the bathroom, you can see Deckard is looking at you in the mirror reflection while buttoning a crisp white shirt.

"Your tea is ready. Black, no milk, right?”

He's right and it's annoying because is there anything this man messes up?

"What time is it?" You ask, suddenly remembering you have a busy schedule today.

"You have 27 minutes to eat and get ready, so I can drop you off at your office in time for your first call of the day."

He knows about your tea preferences and your professional agenda, of course he does , he was not joking when mentioning the whole "spying-on-you" situation, or "supervision" as he liked to call it. He needs to stop it, but you decide to keep this discussion for another day.

You stretch, and rise to put on the hotel bathrobe, sighing at the thought of having to wear the same clothes as yesterday. Last you saw them, they were scattered on the floor all over the room and your underwear were positively ruined.

"The concierge was very helpful this morning, thanks to him I got you a few clothes delivered for today." Deckard adds as he pours himself a cup of coffee from the cart and gestures to the leather armchair where a couple of bags doning logos of luxury brands are perched.

You make your way to the packages, and open the first one to reveal a sophisticated dress, fitted and sexy, but not too much that it would be inappropriate as office wear. The second bag is a thoughtful selection of high end make-up products. And the last one contains a gorgeous set of lacy lingerie, nothing too raunchy but sexy nonetheless. Of course everything is in the right size.

"Thank you..." you whisper, a little stunned. The assortment must have cost him a couple grands at the very least - not that he can't afford it because you're well placed to be sure he can, but still, he did not have to do this.

You have to suppress a smile, because damn he's being annoyingly perfect once more, but you don't want to give him the satisfaction to reveal he was right when promising you could stay the night instead of going home and still look fresh for your day at work.

"I was thinking, I'm free tonight, so maybe we can finally review those documents, you know the ones you were supposed to show me before you jumped on me on the couch last night?" Deckard states as he bites in an apple in front of the window, casually looking at lake Geneva glinting in the bright morning sun.

You blush unwillingly, struggling to find a reply that would save you from admitting you had failed at enforcing your usual work ethic.

"I'm kidding dear!" He barks in a laugh. "I know enough to trust you on this venture, you have my approval to go on with the investment." He continues more seriously.

You open your mouth to answer but he's quicker.

"I'm not kidding about being free though, so what about dinner and then we can see where this takes us…"

When you don't answer immediately, he turns to look at you. Maybe he's realizing the situation can be awkward and precarious for you since you're technically working for him.

"You can say no, I won't take any offense." He adds without irony.

"Yes..." You finally answer, tip toeing toward him until you can snatch the apple he was eating from him. He protests but you shush him.

"...Yes, I would like this very much..."

As he starts to protest again, you take a big bite from the fruit with a knowing smile.

"...but only for dinner. Nothing more."

"You'll be the death of me." Deckard says, falsely irritated, his voice dropping lower.

"At least the feeling is mutual, mister Shaw ..."

#deckard shaw #deckard shaw x reader #female reader #fast and furious #hobbs and shaw #deckard shaw fanfiction #hobbs and shaw fanfiction #deckard shaw / reader #jason statham #jason statham imagine #smut #hobbs and shaw smut #deckard shaw reader insert #fast and furious fanfiction

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missskzbiased · 3 years

Text

The Things We Don’t Tell

Summary: You were sure your life was written and directed to fit a sketchy Rom-Com and nobody could convince you otherwise. First, your boss was too hot to be true, and burning with desire didn’t even begin to explain the tingling sensations he left on you. Second, your coworker (a.k.a. Ex-About-to-be-FWB) insisted in turning your life into a living hell, which wasn’t the exact kind of hotness you were into. And if having these two hot men around you every single day of your life wasn’t enough to prove it, maybe the threat of your slutty secret identity about to be busted would be… But you couldn’t let this happen.

WC: 7,5 K

Genre: Smut, Humor (?)

AUs: Office, Enemies to Lovers

Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin X Fem!Reader X Bang Chan

(Not really a love triangle as Hyunjin is the Lead. However, Reader wants to Bang Chan)

Rebloggable Masterlist // Main Masterlist // Tag List

Warnings: Language, Thigh riding, Public space (Office), Exhibitionism, Possessiveness, Pet Name (Baby girl), Sir Kink

[If I forgot anything, please let me know! I’m kinda sleepy right now]

Notes: There will be at least one more chapter but I won’t do a tag list post for now, only if someone wants it, cuz I’m too lazy to think about doing it right now. This fic is an attempt to experiment with some writing style things that I’ve been wanting to try. I don’t think it worked, tho SUHAHUSAUHSUHA But that’s life

- I’ll quite possibly change the title in the future-

///

You are a superhero.

Okay! To be honest, you may be exaggerating a little bit ─ a tiny harmless little bit ─ but that was how you felt every single day of your life, alright? You had this glorious and mysterious side of yours that you hid from everyone else in the world… That mask that you couldn’t let come to the ground and would fight for dear life to protect… That side to your persona that no one was allowed to meet… The fierce, bold, and dark aspects of your soul that—

“Y/N! I want those papers on my table!”

“Yes, sir!” You shrieked in an embarrassing (not even slightly bold) way.

— That you couldn’t show at your work.

Yeah… So maybe no one actually thought of you as a superhero, but you really believed someone should start to. Was there something that different between your life and those low-budget TV shows people seem to enjoy so much? You didn’t think so.

To be fair, sometimes you felt like someone wrote a questionable script and poorly directed your life to fit you as the leading lady of a sketchy rom-com. As if they just focused on checking out every point on a bullet list made up with rules for a successful superhero office drama that wasn’t even that good…

… And speaking of which…

Rule Number One: The stern (maybe kinda attractive) boss!

If you had to define Bang Chan with a couple of adjectives, you would choose undeniably beautiful ─ extremely professional of you because the right words to describe him were fucking hot ─ and committed. Fortunately, it wasn’t an “I have someone waiting for me at home and a bunch of kids I must put to sleep” kind of commitment, which would destroy your hopes of having this man one day. Unfortunately, it was an “I’m better than the header and gonna run this company by tomorrow night” kind of commitment, which destroys your hopes of a peaceful day at work.

Now, it’s not like you don’t want to do your job! It’s just that you didn’t sign up to be Bang Chan’s perfect little toy ─ definitely not the better words to describe it ─ and you didn’t expect to be joined by the hips ─ really? ─ with him or any of your coworkers. The thing is that Bang Chan wants to be on top ─ someone has to stop you ─ and he believes the only way to get there is to work as a team and be as perfect as one can be. In other words, Bang Chan wants absolutely everything and everyone to be neat, tight, and ready to be used ─ again… Not the better way to put your thoughts into words ─, but this just wasn’t who you were.

It also wasn’t the point right now.

The point right now should be the fact that Bang Chan was striding to his office looking like he owned the whole damn place… If this was a movie, the camera would be focusing on his expensive, black leather shoes before scanning all the way up to his waist in slow motion. The scene would zoom in on his fine ass only to go a little bit up and catch the shiny, black belt wrapping around his figure. The outfit didn’t leave much to the imagination, but you had a hell of a productive mind… You could think of a few things you shouldn’t really be thinking about right now.

Bang Chan didn’t seem to understand he was at work either.

He rolled his sleeve up in a sexy motion that should be illegal. It isn’t. You can tell by the way there are no cops bursting inside the building and arresting this gorgeous son of a bitch.

The lack of any authorities to stop this atrocious moment had you lowering your gaze to your desk ─ a vain attempt to ignore the way his forearms flexed as he gestured and ordered people around. If you were a little bit less professional, you would have some ideas of how he could do it in bed. With you. But you weren’t some kind of creepy perv who would be fantasizing about riding your own boss from dusk till dawn.

Not at all.

“Do you need me, Sir?” His secretary asks politely.

A question that you would love to ask him too… In a totally and strictly professional way, of course.

Rule Number Two: The (extremely unnecessary) nemesis!

The shiver running down your spine could mean only one thing: Hwang Hyunjin ─ your obnoxious coworker ─ was standing right behind you, just like a bloody damn ghost. There was no need to turn around. You knew he had his mocking eyes glued on Bang Chan’s figure, and you could feel the air shifting as he tilted his head in a silent sneer before leaning on your desk.

You refused to turn around and acknowledge his presence; painfully aware that he would flash a wide grin while looking at you with a knowing glint in his eyes. You wouldn’t give him the taste of seeing in your face that he was right; that you were staring at your boss as if you were a starving vulture. So you did the only thing you could do in this situation: You started to work. The sheets scattered over your desk wouldn’t walk by themselves to Bang Chan’s room, right?

And neither would you if it depended on Hyunjin.

The attempts to swipe the papers in your direction and gather everything you needed ─ to finally get rid of Hyunjin ─ proved to be vain as his hand took root on the desk. You pursed your lips in annoyance while glancing at his prominent knuckles and slender fingers; wondering if he would be so collected if he knew you wanted to crunch them. Probably not. But he gets off so fucking much on upsetting you that he might just want to take the risk anyway.

“What do you want, asshole?” You hissed; stopping your motions before turning around to stare blankly at him.

The face of an angel was the most accurate way to describe the sight in front of you. Plump, pink lips molded into a sweet smile and dark brown eyes morphed into cute crescents. None of those features fit his true self, though. Underneath the angelic façade, there was a demon called Hwang Hyunjin ─ who was resting his free hand on your shoulder for no reason besides driving you crazy.

It would be easier if he was just a pretty face, but Hyunjin had a good body too. The guy looked just like a model ─ slim, tall, and classy ─, and even though only his collarbones peeked out from down his shirt, you knew that there was much more than the eyes could see.

Well, you never saw it, but you had felt it.

As far as you could remember, each curve on Hyunjin’s abs was craft by God himself. The way his chest was built for you to caress would be forever craved on your mind. You might never forget how soft his lips were in contrast to his lap… How his thighs flexed just right when you pulled his hair… How reactive he was… How his moans sounded… And how he put everything to waste.

“Oh, nothing” He shrugged. As usual, his voice was just like sweet, hot honey; still, you could wipe the poison dripping down his chin, “I was just wondering if you had enough time to do your job while fucking your boss inside your head” He clarified sarcastically, cracking you a smile.

Sometimes you regretted not putting his mouth to good use… He really needed to learn how to shut up for a while and stop being so… Unbearable. The silence he met had him scoffing; body leaning even closer to the point his face was practically hovering over yours ─ smugness plastered all over it. You held his gaze to confront him; breathe mingling with his in a heated mix that matched the anger under your eyes.

Was he licking his lips as he stared at yours? Oh boy… He definitely wanted to get laid. It was your time to scoff as the frown on your lips turned into a smirk; eyes twinkling mischievously as you looked into his in a silent teasing. As if sensing that he was in trouble, Hyunjin tilted his head to look even more obnoxious than he was; face coming closer to yours to defy your newfound confidence.

“You know what? If you stared at him any longer, I think his balls might have fallen off…” He whispered in a tone loud enough for just you to hear “Unless he saw the way you were looking at him… Then I guess his dick would go straight up” He assured you with a ‘friendly’ pat on your shoulder as he finally let go of your papers and straightened his back.

“Are you saying it from experience?” You sneered; grimacing at him.

“Are you telling me that you want me to fuck you too?” He retorted gibingly; not even thinking twice about it.

“No” You tilted your head, trying to stay composed, “I’m reminding you that you couldn’t even kiss me without getting a boner… Just like a teenage boy” He arched a brow at your statement; pursing his lips as he hummed in wonder “I’m surprised you never came in your pants like the pathetic thing you are” He laughed; poking his cheek with his tongue before squeezing your shoulder in a silent warning.

“I must have been quite a sight if you can remember it so vividly” You pretended not to notice the way he sniggered, pushing away the urge to punch his face.

Nemesis was just a classy way to call him a pain in the ass.

Rule Number Three: The (plain and uninteresting) secret identity!

It would be impossible to miss the moment Hyunjin’s devilish smirk morphed into a bright, friendly smile. The snarky comment on the tip of your tongue was swallowed back in a bit; grimace dissolving into a wide grin as if you weren’t about to throw your fists at him. He giggled as his arms spread open before snaking around your body to pull you into a tight hug; holding you close and rocking your body side to side as a soft huff fell from your lips.

If you didn’t know any better, your knee would be buried between his legs.

“Way to go, Y/N!” He chirped, loosening his grip to take a better look at your face; eyes smiling as if the both of you were the bestest of friends in the entire world, “You’re awesome! I’m so proud… I can’t believe how lucky I am to have you as my teammate” He pursed his lips; dimples showing as he offered you nothing but affection in his gaze.

You did know better, though, and it wasn’t too hard to figure out who was standing behind your back as you opened your mouth to answer him: “There’s no one I’d rather be with!” You reassured Hyunjin in a sweet, mirthful tone; tilting your head to return the fondness in his look in an act worthy of an Oscar “We’re a team, you know? You can’t get rid of me so easily” He laughed wholeheartedly at that; ruffling your hair before leaning closer to you again, resuming the hug.

“We’ll see about that” He whispered in your ear, making you scoff.

“What are you gonna do? Cry to Daddy so you won’t work with me anymore?” You hissed back; breaking away from his hug with a tight grin before turning around to meet Chan’s gaze.

The surprise plastered over your face was millimetrically calculated; just like the way you pretended to be flustered as you stared into your boss’ eyes to see the pride shining on them. You brought the papers closer to your chest in what was meant to be an innocent, coy way ─ a technique mastered over the months you worked for him ─, and Chan seemed to fall for it as he giggled in delight. The poor guy had no clue all of this was as fake as your camaraderie towards Hyunjin, and he wasn’t about to discover it anytime soon if it depended on you.

Luckily, it did! You had taken some acting classes; just enough for your next words to be naturally convincing: “I’m so sorry, Sir! We’re just so happy that –” The words were deliberately drawled to give him enough time to interrupt you. Just like you knew he would. And it was a good thing that he did because you had no idea of how you were supposed to finish that sentence anyway.

You were a good actress, not a professional improviser.

“Don’t mention it” He cut you off giggly; detaching himself from the doorframe he leaned on as he watched the friendly scene taking place.

The amount of cuteness this man could deliver in his smile wasn’t fair, and it didn’t match the sensuality a simple gesture of his overflowed with, enchanting you. You gulped down as he gave both of you a silent order to follow him into his room, wondering if the duality he had in the office was remotely similar to what he could do in bed ─ a thought that shouldn’t be having a place in your mind right now.

Hyunjin seemed to pick up on it pretty quickly too, and as soon as Chan turned around to head to his office, he bumped his shoulder onto yours. The obnoxious action was followed by your elbow diving into his ribs; a retaliation that took you less than a second and, luckily, Chan ─ or any of your coworkers ─ didn’t seem to notice. Neither of you gave away your silent quarrel as Hyunjin closed the door behind him, smiling at you when Chan finally took his seat.

“It’s good to see that you guys have such chemistry” He confessed, and you had to suppress a scoff when you looked into his eyes. He had no idea… The chemistry between you two was enough to make you want to blow each other, “You know what I always say, right?” He boasted on a sing-song; much more at ease than he seemed to be earlier.

You weren’t about to put that on the line, though.

“You can’t have teamwork if you don’t have a team!” You warbled in unison.

“That’s the spirit!” Chan gurgled, heading to his desk in a visibly good mood.

What was going on? He wouldn’t be so happy just because you and Hyunjin were being friendly… Were you missing something? He didn’t seem in such a peaceful state of mind when he came in… It had to be something that happened after that. Perhaps he got some good news from his secretary? Or maybe… You narrowed your eyes as you caught a glimpse of Hyunjin’s hands fidgeting in front of him; his foot tapping the ground rapidly but quietly before moving slightly to step on your toe.

Or maybe Hyunjin had something to do with it…

“As I said in the email, Sir, I happened to hear some stuff around and… KQ managed to get an exclusive with Han Jisung” The sentence sounded just like a normal introduction to a report, but you knew it wasn’t. Hyunjin’s eyes darted to meet yours, glinting with anxiety and despair. He was informing you of what was going on, not Chan, “And as we all know, Jisung is a rising producer star, which is bound to raise their sales and might get in the way of ours…” He continued, swallowing dryly and widening his eyes ever so slightly.

He was definitely trying to warn you of something.

“Yes, I read the e-mail, Hyunjin” Chan agreed sternly; smile disappearing as his fingers intertwined to serve as a support for his chin. He looked classy and incredibly sexy, but your mind couldn’t afford to focus on it right now. You had to figure out what the hell Hyunjin suggested to Chan before blowing everything up, “You also said that Y/N might have the solution for this…” Oh, so that was it, you thought when Chan arched his brow; eyes connecting to yours.

And now what?

“So?” He encouraged you, detaching his chin from his hands so he could rest them on his desk “I’m waiting” He smiled gently; a closed-mouth smile that was supposed to calm your nerves, even though you could see how tumultuous his gaze was right now.

It was practically a silent threat.

In a normal situation, the predatory way he was looking at you ─ resembling a wolf when you were nothing but a sheep under his radar ─ would get you… Thinking.

Your job wouldn’t be at stake in a normal situation, though.

The pressure on your toes increased; the subtle way Hyunjin found to snap you out of your mind, despite your silence hanging in there for just a few seconds. It was obvious that he was freaking out just as much as you were, and you couldn’t help but blame him for this. Couldn’t he have told you about it earlier? What the hell was going on inside his mind?! Instead of taunting you about wanting to fuck Bang Chan, he should have warned you about that shit!

That’s not the time for this, Y/N.

The muscles on your face tensed as you tried to not give away everything going through your mind; lips twisting in a tight smile as you looked at Hyunjin: “Yeah, he was right” You answered calmly, even though your stomach was settled on becoming an Olympic athlete right now, “As I was telling him before coming here, Sir, I have someone in mind…” The relief washed over Hyunjin’s face; a genuine smile adorning his features as he withheld a sigh, “I happen to know I.N, and I think I can get us an exclusive” You confessed, shifting your gaze from Hyunjin to Chan.

“The writer?” He blurted out, astonishment plastered all over his face.

“Yeah… They’re a friend of mine…” You trailed off, embarrassed to say it out loud “They’re in the top trending now since their novel will become a drama and…” You cleared your throat, lowering your head to avoid his gaze. There was just so much of acting you could handle for a day, “I mean- It’s… Adult stuff, right? But they never—”

“I know! That’s perfect!” He beamed, getting up from his chair to walk your way “They’ve never been seen! Nobody knows anything about them, Y/N” He laughed ─ he genuinely laughed ─ while clasping his hands together “Han Jisung is good, but I.N is better! This is hot news… FrontPage… How come you never told me about that?” He chuckled, placing his hand on your shoulder “Rest assured that when I get my promotion, I’m gonna have you right here in this room” He promised you in such a serious tone that a shiver ran down your spine.

Rule Number Four: The (kinda horny) true self!

There was not a single soul in the office as you made your way down the hall; eyes focused on the mesmerizing view outside. The sky was colored in purple shades, so deep that you would have mistaken them for black if it weren’t for the dazzling, sleepless city and its dozens of skyscrapers lighting everything up. Not even the full moon would be able to compete with such a beautiful brilliance, but it wouldn’t be necessary either as your gaze was abruptly torn away from the night.

The darkness surrounding you didn’t allow your brain to connect the dots immediately, and you couldn’t help but wonder what happened when you bumped into something. The surface was much softer than a wall, yet firm enough to have you wincing for the impact; eyes snapping to meet the unlucky bastard that stayed until so late. The moonlight kissed his skin just enough for you to recognize the sharp features of your boss; clenched jaw revealing popping veins that distracted you for a fraction of a second.

Your eyes trailed the path from his jaw to his neck, and you couldn’t help but wonder how it tasted like; if you could savor it like the sins you wanted to commit with him. The closeness didn’t work in your favor, and the hint of his scent intoxicated your senses as you connected your gazes. Something must have given you off ─ maybe your hesitation, maybe the lust glinting in your eyes ─ because the next second, Cristopher had his hand placed on your lower back.

The warm sensation grew to a burning feeling as his eyes darkened while diving into yours; his stern, cold gaze contrasting to the feeling of his touch and sending a shiver down your spine. Could he have noticed the way your legs trembled as his grip tightened around you? The look on his face was indecipherable, and the intensity of his gaze made you feel too exposed and vulnerable to keep looking for an answer, so you averted your eyes away from him.

“Weren’t you supposed to come as soon as you got his answer?” The way his voice made its way to your senses had the embarrassment washing over you. The huskiness in his tone made you gulp down ─ throat dry from thirsting over him ─ and the calmness in his sentence alarmed you as it didn’t match the disapproval in his eyes “It’s so late that there is no one else here anymore” He added nonchalantly; mixed signals getting you confused to what he meant by it.

Was it just a way to scold you or was it an invitation?

“I’m sorry, Sir” Despite not having anyone around, you whispered the words as if you could be caught at any moment now, “It took me longer than expected, but we—”

“We?” His eyes were sharp enough to cut you off but the real reason why you couldn’t manage to finish your thoughts was the way he pulled your body impossibly closer to his “Were you with him this whole time?” He hissed right into your ear, letting his hot breath fan over your cold, sensitive skin in a silent threat.

“Working” You corrected, even though he didn’t say anything.

“Working” He hummed in agreement; hand going to tuck your hair behind your ear “As in how we work late at night?” He sneered, manhandling you to press your back against the cold surface of the glass wall that separated his office from the rest of the place “Or is it as in how he wants to work you on his desk?” He scoffed; soft huff almost as degrading as the way he held your cheeks with one hand and guided your eyes to his.

“Neither” You guaranteed breathlessly; voice quivering in excitement.

“Are you going to pretend that you didn’t notice his looks?” He narrowed his eyes at you; his knee making its way to the gap between yours before slowly rising to your thighs, “That you don’t know how much he wants to fuck you?” He laughed humorlessly, shaking his head in disbelief, “You better not, ‘cause I know you love it” He warned as he kicked your legs apart.

“He could never fuck me as you do” There was such seriousness in your tone that it had him chuckling, and he nodded in approval before burying his nose in your neck, “I-I’m yours only, Sir… I know my place” You promised quietly, trying not to give away how aroused his jealousy made you feel.

“Yeah…” His raspy laughter tickled your skin, and you muffled a whine as he grazed his teeth over your neck teasingly “But you like being reminded of it, don’t you?” He taunted, taking in your scent in a way that made you feel too small and helpless. He groaned as soon as you let a whimper fall from your lips, and you couldn’t help but struggle to stay still while knowing what was about to come, “Do I have to spell it for you, baby girl?” He snickered before sucking on the tender spot of your skin that he knew too well at this point.

“N-No” Somewhere inside your head, you acknowledged that your reaction was insanely humiliating. He just needed a couple of words spoken in a sultry tone and you couldn’t even form a proper sentence. That was the power he had on you. And you loved it. “Only yours” The rushed tone made him smirk against your neck, stopping his path of kisses for a second to look into your eyes “Sir” You panted; returning his gaze with just as much intensity as he had on his.

“Claim your place” His order was so tantalizing that you didn’t even blink before you finally let your knees give away, losing the support of your legs to earn the support of his thigh, “That’s right… You do remember your place” Somehow, this sounded like the best praise he could ever offer you, even under his amused tone, “But you have been such a bad girl lately…” He pouted as he caressed your cheek; hand stopping to grab your chin gently “And I don’t like bad girls… You know that, right?” He let his thumb reach for your lower lip, fiercely staring at it before grazing his finger on your teeth.

Your answer was as silent as his request; tongue welcoming his thumb before you sucked on his digit. He hummed in appreciation, pushing it inside your mouth as you looked at him with big doe eyes to show a coyness that wasn’t really there within you. The action was followed by a swirl around the tip of his finger; as if to leave in his mouth the taste of what he was missing and prompt him to give you what you really wanted: Him.

If he picked up on your plans, he showed it by giving like for like.

He didn’t say a word as he pressed his thigh against your heat; leaning closer to let his breath fan over your neck once more. He stood like that for what could have been seconds, maybe minutes, but nonetheless time enough for his warmth to creep into your senses. He was like a poison to you; the intoxicating presence clouding your better judgment and destroying any will you had to have him losing control. You didn’t even mind the way he scoffed as you started to grind his leg; brows twisting to shout out a needy plea for release.

“That’s a good girl” He approved, catching your earlobe between his teeth. The moan that fell from your lips was muffled by his finger and he didn’t seem to appreciate it, “I don’t hear you, baby girl” He complained, moving on to your jaw with a path of open-mouthed kisses that weren’t enough to distract you from his other hand “There’s no one here… Be loud for me” He allured you as his hand found its way under your shirt.

The temptation was great… Scream his name as he fucked you senseless in the office... No risk of being caught… Just you, and him, and your dirty little secret…

Your thoughts were all around the place, and you had no hopes of grasping them back as his cold hand brushed your side, contrasting to the warmth under your clothes. The way he touched you made shivers run down your spine; his slow, delicate motion enhancing your senses to every single second of his caresses. You held your breath when his finger finally managed to reach its destination; grazing over your nipple to have you succumbing to his wishes.

You fought it as you could, but you were never much of a fighter.

It was too easy for him to have you under his control, and he knew it. You could tell it by the way he chuckled as soon as you gave away how lost you were at this point. The moan that left your lips came all the way up from your chest, sounding crystal clear in the room as you let your mouth fall agape. Sucking on his finger and following his orders were the last concern you would have for this moment. The only thing worthy of your attention right now was the fact that you couldn’t get as much friction as you needed, and you had to do something about it.

So you grind on his leg for dear life.

“You’re so needy” The mockery didn’t have much effect on your mind anymore, so you just kept sliding up and down his thigh as if that was the only thing that could keep you going “You’re not even listening to me, are you?” He huffed in disbelief; thumb leaving your mouth so he could cup your face “That’s all you can understand, right?” He taunted, pinching your nipple to get your attention again, “Are you still there, baby girl?” He leaned closer to whisper in your ear.

“F-Fuck me” Was the only answer he would get.

“Manners” He warned; licking the sweet spot next to your jaw.

“Fuck me, Sir” You corrected yourself; wrapping your arms around his shoulders to look for some support as you practically bounced on his leg, “Please, fuck me, Sir” You repeated, forehead resting on the crook of his neck as you clawed his back, trying to bring him as close as possible to you.

“Louder” He demanded, and you didn’t need to look at his face to know that he was grinning, “Louder…” He instructed in a tone so low that you could barely hear him over the rustling sounds of fabric against fabric. Your breath hitched as his hand gently caressed your hair; moving some strands away from your face to take a better look at you. However, he didn’t get to see your teary eyes, “Come on, baby… Look at me” He asked in a tantalizing tone, alluring you to try and meet his gaze.

There wasn’t much you could see through your hooded eyes; vision too blurry for you to grasp what was going on inside his mind. You could tell he enjoyed it, though. He always did. That moment when he could pinpoint you had given up on your control, that you weren’t yourself anymore and would be willing to do whatever he asked… He lived for it, for that rebellious flame of self-control extinguishing from your eyes.

For who you become when lust overcomes you.

The grip on his hair wasn’t unexpected, and Cristopher offered you a small, wicked smile before you connected your lips. The kiss was messy and hurried; tongues exploring every corner they could find while your hands were occupied on getting rid of your clothes. Neither of you cared about anything else but feeling each other’s bodies as you ripped your shirts. The cold breeze hitting your bare skin wasn’t enough to cool down the heat consuming you, but it was enough to have you squirming and whining.

“Beautiful” Was the only thing he said before pushing your back against the glass and adjusting his grip to take your nipple between his teeth. The groan that escaped your lips was almost animalistic, prompting him to answer with a grunt of his own as he sucked on your skin. The vibrations ran from your flesh to your core, enticing another moan that seemed to fall into deaf ears, “Louder, baby… I want him to hear you…” He pleaded, letting go of your breast just to grope it and give you a kitten lick on the next second “To know who made you like this…” He added before sucking on it again.

Perhaps it was the fact that he thrust on you, just to tease your senses and make you thirstier. Perhaps it was the fact you had to support yourself on just one leg as he pushed his hips against yours and you tried to seek for your balance by involving his leg with yours. Perhaps it was his hand sliding to meet your clothed core; finger pressing against your clit to add a delicious, needed stimulus for your orgasm.

Perhaps it was the words that slipped through his lips.

“W-What did you say?” You panted; hips faltering as you tried to keep riding him, but steading their pace as his finger circled your clit to goad you “M-Mhm… S-Sir” You cried; hand burying in his hair to pull it and translate the utter bliss waving down your body. The string of mewls and urgent pleas spilled from you like a chant, getting him more eager than before, “P-Please” You whined, even though you weren’t sure what you were asking for.

“Hold it” He ordered; straightening his back to look right into your eyes, but failing as yours rolled back to your head. His hand made its way to squeeze your cheeks, forcing you to look at him with a soft shake to catch your attention “Look at me” It sounded like a warning; stern enough for you to try your best to focus on him, “You’ll only cum when he walks right through that door… Do you understand?” He searched for any signs of stubbornness in your eyes, but his smile showed he didn’t found any.

“W-Who?” You managed to ask; body trembling as you tried to hold every single string inside your mind in place, even though each one of them was ready to snap and unravel the crashing pleasure that was building up.

“Why does it matter?” He scoffed, quickening his pace as the unmistakable ring of the elevator sounded on the room “You love being seen, don’t you?” He chuckled, watching as your body shook violently and your knees started to give away to the sensations running down your body.

“Y-Yes, Sir” You could bet your voice echoed inside the building, and Christopher seemed to agree with you as he grinned in approval.

“So look at your guest, baby… And scream my name” He instructed, pushing your face to the side. The doors opened slowly, revealing the lights inside the small cubicle right in front of your eyes “Let him know who you belong to” He whispered in your ear; hand pushing your underwear aside so his finger could come in contact with your core.

The mysterious figure detached from the corners of the metallic walls to finally reveal himself. You met his eyes for a half of a second; enough time for you to recognize the one who worked with you every single day of your life. For the past few years. Someone who would be your partner for years to come, and who would witness and engrave your face in your most vulnerable moment.

You came hard; probably the most overwhelming orgasm you had ever had in your life. It was impossible to hold back your voice, and you couldn’t help but howl his name; legs shaking and body collapsing into your boss’ arms. You squirmed and whimpered as you tried to recompose yourself; letting him help you ride you out of your orgasm and occupying yourself by staring into your coworker’s shocked eyes.

“Thank you, Sir…” You breathed out, gripping his arms for dear life while the shame sank into your soul.

Rule Number Five: The (grateful and satisfied) fans!

And… Post.

Oh, well… You did it. Again. There was something about displaying your deepest fantasies for anyone to see that was kinda thrilling to you. Your heart raced inside your chest just like a drum ─ well, if a goddamn drummer decided to do a solo but was too offbeat, to begin with ─ and you couldn’t help but stare blankly at the page without a clue of what to do now. It was out there… Why didn’t anyone say anything yet? Was it that bad? Should you delete it?

Well… People have to read it before commenting, you know?

Yeah, right… You just posted it.

Chill.

You licked your lips before biting them; feeling the rush that was posting about your boss online when no one else knew about it. If you were being honest, the best part of this wasn’t having the chance to live your fantasies throughout your writing. No. The best part was knowing that only you knew the true identity of Christopher… Or what you really wanted to do to him while he walked down the hallway. The best part was that no one would ever figure out that you were the author of the bestselling novel of the moment… That this steamy romance between boss and employee was nothing but your rawest desire.

Who would think that the boring, shy girl from the office would be a smut writer? Who would think that you would have a horny, interesting secret identity? No one else but you.

And this was priceless.

Or maybe… It was priceless.

As far as you knew, every single thing you cherished about being a secretive horny bitch could go down the drain tomorrow. It would be all fine if it was just a… Well, actually everything would suck. How would you look at Chan’s face if he knew you were writing about having sex with your boss while he was your boss? What would you do if they decided to fire you because of it? What would you do with your life from now on?!

Don’t panic, Y/N.

You had everything under control… Tomorrow morning you would be going to Jeongin’s house and interview him as if he were you. No one would ever suspect you after that. You would save your ass, Hyunjin’s ass, and Chan’s ass. And that was it. The perfect plan. Nothing to worry about. Just trust Jeongin to follow your script and make sure everything would go as planned.

Flawless. Totally safe. Perfect.

That’s right…

You just need to take a deep breath and rela—

The sudden sound caught you off guard; eyes focusing on the screen once again so you could understand what was going on. All of your worries vanished away as soon as you saw the notification on the top of it; announcing that you had just got a message from a fan.

Finally!

The weasel icon was so familiar that you chuckled while opening the message; a smile plastering over your face as you let your eyes wander around the words. There was nothing more fulfilling to your writer ass than seeing the way Weasel always had something to say about your story. Sometimes, he’d give you some feedback on your style. Other times, he’d freak out about how much he wanted to “try those things out”, as he usually said. There were also times when he’d just get excited over the characters and their conflicts, which always got you laughing.

It was fun to talk to Weasel.

He was just as mysterious as you… There was no name to his face, and also no face to his icon, but both of you were friends anyway. He had been keeping up with your stuff from such an early stage that it felt natural to have him around and getting his feedback. It was so comfortable, that you didn’t even mind when he slid in your DMs, embarrassed to let anyone else know that your smut made him… Feel things. There was no need to elaborate on what he did about those feelings or those things. But it was kinda hot to know he enjoyed himself throughout your fantasies.

His fantasies.

Well… For the number of times that you used them to write your stories, it was some sort of shared fantasies by now. As a matter of fact, you never intended to make Christopher a jealous character but Weasel made the idea seem too hot for you to ignore. Sometimes, he’d open up about that girl from his work that he really liked and how jealous he was of the guy she liked and then… Well, it felt… Interesting.

The thought of being desirable to the point a guy would want to claim you as his like this? Not that Weasel did it. He actually just mentioned that he hoped she was into this as a kink. You couldn’t help but picture the way he would touch her in such a greedy way… The possessiveness blinding him for a second… The grip tightening… The mean words and the humiliation… Oh, the sweet humiliation that would crush you as he whispered how much you would cum for him… How he was the only one who could make you like that… How he would ask you to say his name… To tell him that you were his…

You could drink holy water and still be shaking just by picturing it.

“That was such a good chapter… I didn’t expect you to use her friend like that. I thought it was a given that she’d end up with Chris” You read out loud, chuckling when he reached for your DMs to talk to you “Will we get a threesome or something, miss? 😏” He joked on the next line and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at this “I’m waiting for it”

“You’re just a horny bitch, aren’t you?” You typed, smirking as you stared at his messages “No spoilers for you, though, baby boy… You’ll have to wait like everybody else” Teasing him was always funny, and he never failed to amuse you.

“I’m not the one writing porn online” He pointed out, and before he could write anything else you shot him.

“Yeah but you’re the one getting off to it” You retorted, getting a whole set of gasping and shocked emotes that had you laughing.

“I have no words to express how offended I am” You chortled, shaking your head in disbelief.

“Alright, Drama Llama” Why was it so fun to mock him? You wished you could actually meet him offline and banter like this in real life “To fill your horny ass, I might write a dom!reader next time… I was thinking about torturing the 2nd lead a bit”

“First of all… I don’t think I want my ass filled, thank you for offering tho” Why was he like this? “And I was just joking” You frowned at that, confused by what he meant “Don’t you think that a threesome doesn’t go along with the characters? Her friend likes her a lot and Christopher is just a kinky son of a bitch… I thought he’d just show him that she was his and be an ass as usual”

“What do you have against Chris, dude?” You rolled your eyes, although he wouldn’t be able to see it, “He’s way better than her friend! At least, he does something about her”

“I have the 2nd male lead syndrome! You know that!” You chortled, very aware of this, “And isn’t that the perfect opportunity for him to do something about it?! I mean… I don’t want to be nosey but having a threesome is way out of character for them” He pointed out, and you had to admit he was right.

“No, you’re not nosey…” You sighed; shoulders dropping for a second “It’s just that I’m upset about something that happened at work today and you know that projecting my problems on those characters is my thing” You pursed your lips, staring at the keyboard for a few seconds before deciding to continue “Besides, I’m about to spend an entire day with a guy that kinda inspired the 2nd lead and… I don’t really want to think about a sex scene with him, you know?” You confessed.

“But thinking about torturing and having a threesome with him is easy” He mocked you.

“That’s because that threesome would never happen” You sent it before you could think about what you had just written.

“Ooohhhh!” Holy shit… The amount of emotes he had just dumped on that chat couldn’t be a good sign, “So having sex with this guy is something you want?! And that could happen?! ” Great, now you would have a Drama Llama-Weasel trying to get some juicy gossip about your inexistent sex life… WORSE! Your sex life with your nemesis! “Why don’t you go for it? I’m sure he’s into you if he’s anything like his character” Poor thing… He had no idea.

“Shut up, it’s not like that” You brushed it off.

“If you say so” You could almost hear him snickering, even though you didn’t know how his voice sounded like “I’ll just have you regretting this for the rest of the night” You snorted, shaking your head in disbelief. He was unbearable! “I have work early tomorrow but I’m gonna come back with questions, Miss… Wait for me”

“What I meant is that it’d be easier to happen than having a threesome, not that I want it to happen, moron” You defended yourself but he didn’t even get to read it as he logged off right away.

Great… He would never let you live it down.

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