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worseforwords · 2 months

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The Arrangement

(Alessia Russo x Reader)

Chapter I of Marshmallow

“Sweetheart? Can you hear me?” your mom’s voice cackled through the phone. “Take your phone off your ear, mum, you’ve facetimed me,” you chuckled. “Oh, right. Hi, darling, lovely to SEE you,” she giggled at her own joke. “How are you, love? And where are you? I don’t recognise that wall behind you,” she inquired. “I’m in the changing room at Arsenal, you know, my job.” “Right, ‘course. Everything alright? How’s your g-” “Yeah, everything’s good,” you quickly interrupted her, hoping no one in the changing room caught on to what she was about to say. “I have to head to training soon, mum. Did you want anything from me?” “Right, busy woman, no time for chit-chat with her mum. Your dad and I were just wondering if we could come visit you anytime soon. We haven’t seen you since Christmas, and we would both really love to meet your girlfriend!” She said that last part with a bit too much excitement, and you were sure you saw some heads snap your way from the corner of your eye. “Ehh, yeah, I’m just a little busy at the moment with football, so I’m not sure when I’ll be free,” you said as you quickly turned down the volume of your phone. “I know, darling, but I noticed there’s no match scheduled the weekend after the next one, so you’ll be free then, right?” Another disadvantage of being a professional athlete: usually having a very public schedule. “Right, yeah, I think so. I’ll call you after training, mum.”

You hung up after both of you exchanged goodbyes and you immediately noticed a few eyes on you. One pair belonged to a smirking Katie, who quickly plumped herself down next to you. “What was that I heard? Does somebody have a new girlfriend?” “What the hell, why haven’t I heard about this?” Leah joined in. “Lotte, did you know?” Your roommate Lotte shook her head. “Haven’t seen or heard anyone at our house.” “How is that even possible?” Victoria wondered out loud. “Is it a long-distance thing?” Caitlin joined in on the conversation. By this point, you were surrounded by your teammates, gazing at you, awaiting answers, and your head was spinning, trying to come up with anything to explain your situation.

Ultimately you decided on just telling them the truth, knowing full well a lie wasn’t getting you out of this situation. “There is no girlfriend,” you said quietly. Clearly, your answer wasn’t satisfactory as everyone kept staring at you frantically. “My parents kept asking me when I would finally bring someone home because my brother and sister are both happily married or engaged homeowners starting their own families. They keep telling me not to wait until it’s too late. At Christmas, when they started again, I finally snapped. I lied and told them I have a girlfriend.” You took a quick breath before you continued. “Only it backfired because now they won’t stop asking me about her, and apparently, I have to find a girlfriend within the next week or so.” You let your head fall into your hands dramatically. There was a short silence as everyone around you processed what you had just told them. Then a loud shriek as Katie burst out laughing. “Oh boy, you’ve gotten yourself into some trouble, mate!” she shouted. “Good luck with that.”

The next few minutes were filled with everyone either light-heartedly teasing your situation or attempting to play matchmaker and find you a girlfriend, which you knew was futile with only 10 days to go. This was precisely why you avoided going on dates. All the unwarranted attention and people meddling in your life, you didn't need it. You’d rather concentrate on the love of your life that you did have some control over: football. Fortunately, Kim took her captaincy very seriously and summoned everyone out of the changing room for training to begin, but not before sending you a sympathetic smile as you mouthed a quick “thank you” to her.

Training went by swiftly, and afterward, some of the girls gathered at Beth and Viv’s for dinner. You sat on the sofa with Laura and Viv as Alessia was directing Vic in the kitchen, and Beth was setting the table. “So, Y/N, are you going to tell your parents the truth about your girlfriend... or lack thereof?” Laura asked. “I don’t know; it’ll be so embarrassing. And I definitely won’t be able to hold off on them trying to set me up with their neighbour’s son, who is studying to be a doctor, or my mum’s colleague’s daughter who’s in law school.” You imitated your mom as you talked about the people your parent wanted to set you up with before dramatically making a barf gesture. “But what else can you do?” Viv asked. “Let’s see... Fake my own death and start a new life elsewhere? Start studying robotics and learn to design my own robot girlfriend? Pretend I’ve got short-term memory loss and have forgotten who my own girlfriend is?”

“Okay, I need to join in on this, scoot,” Beth waved her hands, gesturing for you to move over. “The fact that you thought of building a robot girlfriend before considering finding an actual girlfriend is insane,” she said, almost like she was scolding you. “I get it,” mumbled Viv as Beth immediately sent her a stern glare to which she responded with by blowing her a quick kiss. “I don’t want a relationship right now. Besides, 10 days is way too little time to find someone,” you said, ignoring their antics. “Fine, have it your way, go with the robot. Vic can help you; she’s studied maths,” she joked as she got up again. “Excuse me,” Vic got involved from the kitchen. “Which of my subjects do you think is about robot girlfriends?” She giggled. “I say go with the Dory thing.”

“Vic, stir this sauce for a bit, please,” Alessia spoke sternly as she turned towards all of you. “Okay, I can’t believe no one has thought of this, but the solution is very simple. You just find someone who can pretend to be your girlfriend for the weekend your parents visit,” she explained as all of you listened. “Yes! Less, that’s a perfect plan,” Beth exclaimed. “But who should it be? Maybe you can hire an actor!” She added as you seriously considered this option for a moment. “Hm, I don’t know, seems kind of risky if they don’t really know me,” you said.

“Yeah, you should probably pick a friend, someone you’ve known for a while and who knows what you’re up to these days,” Laura stated. “Sooo, maybe a teammate?” Vic suggested. “Yes!” Beth shouted again. “A teammate. But who? Obviously not someone who is openly dating someone else already, so me and Viv are out,” she then stated more calmly. “Laura and I can’t make it either, we’re going out with the Aussies, remember?” Vic asked as Laura nodded.

A silence fell as everyone sort of stared at Alessia, who was too focused on her cooking to notice. “Less?” Beth caught her attention, making her jump a little when she noticed everyone’s hopeful gazes fixated on her. “Are you available?” she asked. “Oh yeah sure, I’ll do it.” Alessia sent you a quick smile before continuing to make dinner. “That settles it then,” Beth said, giving you no say in the matter whatsoever. If you were being honest, though, you were just glad you had found somewhat of a solution to your problem. Besides, you didn’t know Alessia that well, the two of you usually being in different friend groups within the team and you had been intrigued to get to know her better for a while now.

The next few days in training everyone was mostly focussed on the game ahead. Some new pieces of gossip flooded the changing room and much to your delight, you and your love life were left unspoken of. It almost seemed a bit too good to be true, and you were now starting to worry it had all been a joke that you took too seriously. After all, the whole plan was a bit insane, definitely unlike anything you had ever done before. Were you just too desperate to notice that it was all banter?

"Everything alright, Y/N?” Alessia's voice jolted you from your mental spirals. “You seem a bit distracted.” “Yeah, all good. My mind just wandered for a second.” You feigned a smile. “Okay.” She returned the smile. “Hey, Alessia,” you began before she could exit the changing room. “Can I talk to you for a second?” “Yeah, of course. What’s up?” She settled herself beside you.

“So, you know about our crazy fake girlfriend plan, and—” “Correction, it’s my crazy plan, not ‘our’. My idea.” She interjected with a satisfied expression. “Right, your crazy plan. Anyhow, I realise you were put on the spot when Beth asked if you were available. I just wanted to say you don’t have to do it; I can find someone else,” you spoke hesitantly. “Oh no, I want to do it. Unless you’d prefer someone else, of course.”

“No, I didn’t mean it like that,” you quickly clarified. “Alright then, let’s do it.” You offered a shy smile. “Ehh, I hope that’s not how you planned on asking me,” she giggled. You shot her an ‘are you serious?’ look. She responded with what you assumed was her best ‘yes, I’m serious, how dare you even question that’ expression. “Give me one second.”

You darted around the corner, returning a few seconds later with a ring made from bright blue kinesiology tape. “Alessia Russo, will you do me the honour of being my fake girlfriend for the weekend?” you proposed, getting down on one knee before her. “Yes, YES, a thousand times yes!” She dramatically pretended to swoon as you slid the makeshift ring onto her finger.

“Right, so my parents will be visiting from Friday night until Sunday, most likely,” you swiftly changed the subject, attempting to avoid any blush creeping onto your cheeks. “But you don’t have to be there for the entire duration, of course. If you could just pop in for a bit on Saturday, that would be great,” you suggested. “Oh, well I don’t really have any other plans because I assumed this would be an all-weekend kind of thing,” she replied softly, and you felt the warmth in your cheeks intensify. “And Dan is out of town anyway.”

Right, Dan. Her boyfriend. You were aware of him, you had met him – this wasn’t new information. So why did you suddenly feel a knot tightening in your stomach at Alessia mentioning him? “So, what do you want me to be like?” She brought you back from your thoughts. “What do you mean?” You asked. “I mean, how do you want me to be around your parents? We’ve got to impress them, right?” She explained. “Oh, just be yourself. They’ll love you. I know they will,” you assured her as she got up from the bench, ready to go warm up.

“Whatever happened in here?” Leah asked as she entered the changing room, followed by some other girls, right after Alessia had left. “What do you mean?” You inquired. “Well, Less just almost walked into me; she was all flustered and smiley, and now here you are, looking all flustered and upset,” she explained. “Nothing happened. I’m not upset. Just a bit nervous about my parents visiting and everything,” you lied. Either Leah didn’t notice or she decided to let you off the hook, but either way, she didn’t ask any further questions about it. As one of your best friends, Leah knew you very well, and she also knew that questioning you in a room full of people was the worst thing she could do to you.

“So is Less still coming?” Beth inquired. “Yes,” you mumbled, not wanting everyone to get involved again, but with no success. “Less?” Katie jumped in. “Why would she come?” Luckily, Beth came to your aid and explained the whole situation to everyone there so you didn’t have to.

“That’s a great plan,” Katie finally spoke. “But how will we make it believable?” “I’m sorry, we?” You tried to interrupt. “We should quiz them!” Beth suggested loudly, ignoring you entirely. “What is happening?” You mumbled to Leah who just laughed at you in response. “Yes! Lotte, can you come up with some questions about Less, and Leah, you can do the same for Y/N.”

Somehow, everyone had agreed on the quiz idea, and once again, you had no say in it. On Wednesday night, a few of the girls gathered at Lotte and your place to prepare you and Alessia for the weekend. The anticipation in the air was as thick as the excitement before a big match. Tables were set up, and a stack of papers with questions lay in the centre. Lotte, with her mischievous smile, and Leah, ever ready for a good laugh, were the architects of this grand interrogation.

You, Alessia, and the rest of the team settled in around the living room. The atmosphere was a mix of nerves and amusement, everyone eager to see how this plan would unfold. Beth, who put on an oversized blazer and a bright red Arsenal bowtie for the occasion, took charge, announcing the rules with a theatrical flourish.

“Alright, everyone! Welcome to the Ultimate Fake Girlfriend Quiz Night!” She exclaimed, earning a round of laughter. “We’ve got questions about Y/N for Alessia and questions about Alessia for Y/N. Let’s see how well our fake couple knows each other.” The room erupted into cheers. Lotte, holding a list of questions about Alessia, winked at you. Leah, armed with questions about you, looked equally mischievous.

The first round began, and Leah fired off questions about you. Alessia, to everyone’s surprise, answered with remarkable accuracy. “Alright, Alessia,” Leah said with a smirk, “what’s Y/N’s guilty pleasure snack?”

Alessia pondered for a moment, a playful glint in her eyes. “Chocolate-covered pretzels. She hides them in the back of a cabinet, but I always find them.” Laughter filled the room. You couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at Alessia, impressed and slightly amused that she had picked up on your secret indulgence. Apparently her close friendship with your roommate had given her quite an advantage.

Lotte, taking her turn, quizzed you about Alessia’s life. “What’s Alessia’s weirdest talent?” she asked with a sly grin. You thought for a moment, realising Alessia had shared a few quirky skills in the changing room. “She can do this weird thing with her tongue, like roll it into a clover shape. It’s bizarrely impressive.”

Alessia blushed, seemingly surprised that you remembered such a minor detail. The room erupted into cheers again. As the quiz progressed, Alessia consistently demonstrated an uncanny knowledge of your habits and likes. It seemed like she had been paying much more attention than you thought.

The highlight came when Leah, with a devious smile, presented the final question: “What’s Y/N’s weirdest habit in the morning?” Alessia, grinning confidently, answered, “She talks to herself in the mirror while doing her hair. Full-on conversations with her own reflection.” Your face turned crimson, and a chorus of laughter echoed through the room. You shot Alessia a playful glare.

The quiz ended and the consensus was clear — Alessia and you knew each other surprisingly well, considering this was supposed to be a fake relationship. However, Katie, ever the provocateur, couldn’t resist stirring the pot.

She leaned forward with a teasing grin. “So, you two aced the quiz, but do you even have any chemistry?” Her question hung in the air, causing a collective intake of breath from the spectators. Alessia looked at you, a subtle uncertainty in her eyes. “Seriously, guys, you need to up your game. You look way too platonic.”

Your teammates, now fully invested in your fake romance, decided to play relationship coaches. “Alright, stand up,” Beth commanded. “Let’s see how you two handle physical proximity. Hug. Now.” You and Alessia exchanged a glance, both feeling a bit awkward. You hesitated for a moment before tentatively wrapping your arms around each other. The teammates observed and then erupted into a chorus of opinions.

“Too stiff!”

“More like you mean it!”

“Look into each other’s eyes, not the ceiling!”

You and Alessia shared an amused yet bewildered look. The teammates continued their analysis, discussing everything from hand-holding techniques to the positioning of your bodies. It was like a crash course in relationship theatrics. “Alright, sit down,” Beth commanded again. “You two are sitting too far apart. Scoot closer.”

As you and Alessia moved to sit side by side, Steph suggested, “Try a more casual touch. Like, Y/N, put your hand on Alessia’s leg.” Panic flashed across your face, but you complied, very carefully placing your hand on Alessia’s leg. The room erupted into laughter again.

“Okay, she said casual, Y/N. She’s not made of thin glass now is she?” Beth joked, and Alessia chuckled as you adjusted your grip, secretly wanting to disappear into the couch. The teammates continued to give advice, critiquing every move and gesture. Amidst the laughter and chaos, Laura suggested, “You guys should try the 36 Questions. You know, that study that makes people fall in love?”

That mention drew curious looks from you and Alessia. Beth explained, “People say you’ll fall in love if you answer them honestly with someone. It could help you two look more... well, in love.” The idea was met with a mix of enthusiasm and skepticism. “Homework for our fake couple!” Beth declared, and everyone laughed.

As the evening wound down, the teammates left your place. Everyone but Alessia, who offered to help you clean the place up. Lotte went to bed, leaving you and your now approved ‘fake girlfriend’ with a newfound list of relationship do’s and don’ts, along with the prospect of a homework assignment that promised to make your fake relationship more convincing.

“So… I guess we’ve got some homework to do,” you said, feeling very awkward all of a sudden now that it was just you two. You then realised you had never really hung out together without at least one other person being there. “Yeah, 36 questions,” she started as she grabbed her phone. “Do you believe in this?”

“No of course not,” you said, ever the sceptic. “But I do believe Katie is gonna murder us if we don’t do our homework. Both of you exchanged glances like, ‘Are we really doing this?’ and rolled your eyes in silent agreement that this was a bit of a silly experiment.

“Given the choice of anyone in the world, whom would you want as a dinner guest?” She read the first question from her phone, immediately gazing at the ceiling as if in thought about her answer. “I bet yours would be Michael Jordan,” you said. “Hey, I’m asking you about your answer not mine!” She giggled as she elbowed your shoulder.

“Fine, let me think. Do they have to be alive?” You wondered. “I mean I guess it says ‘anyone’, so if you want to have dinner with a corpse, by all means,” she chuckled. “No, not like that, ew,” you now elbowed her. “I just mean I would love to have dinner with my grandma. She’s sacrificed so much for our family, but I only ever knew her as a child so I’ve never been able to thank her for it.” Still in thought you stared at your feet for a bit until you realised it had been quiet for a while in your living room.

“Sorry,” you said, quickly looking up and finding Alessia’s eyes already on you with a look you couldn’t quite place. “I’ll just go with Beyoncé, she’d be a cool dinner guest,” you quickly changed your answer. “No, no, that was really sweet. I bet your grandma would love to have dinner with you too. And I’m sure she knew you’d be grateful,” she said softly, her eyes remaining on yours. “Yeah well, you just called her a corpse so that idea is kind of ruined for me now,” you teased. “No I didn’t!” She protested.

The first couple of questions were mostly light and you chuckled at each other’s silly answers. However, as you continued down the list, the questions became increasingly deep and personal and as eye-rolls turned into thoughtful pondering, you both found yourselves sharing way more than you had expected.

Alessia’s responses were open and honest as she shared stories about her childhood dreams, the hurdles in her football journey, and her aspirations beyond the pitch. One question, in particular, struck a chord: “If you could wake up tomorrow having gained any one quality or ability, what would it be?” Alessia’s response was heartfelt. “I’d want to be fearless. Not just on the field, but in life. There are times when I feel held back by my own doubts and fears. I’d love to face everything without that weight.”

Her openness made it easy for you to share your own dreams and fears. The conversation flowed easily, moving through topics of love, aspirations, and personal histories. It felt like something shifted between the two of you. Alessia was no longer just a teammate or a fake girlfriend to you. She was someone you could talk to, someone you felt a genuine connection with and you had a newfound appreciation for her.

By the time you had finished the first set of questions you finally looked at the time. “Oh my god, Alessia, it’s 2 am!” You both jumped up. Two hours had passed since everyone had left and you had an early training the next morning. “Really? How did that happen. I should run then,” she said.

“Hey, do you want to stay over?” You asked as you immediately noticed her questioning expression. “In the guest room I mean. Just cause we have an early training tomorrow and I don’t want you to be exhausted.” You quickly added. “Yeah, that’d be nice.” She smiled shyly at you. “Okay, be right back.” You stated as you sprinted towards your bedroom.

You returned a few minutes later with a bunch of stuff in your arms. “Here’s an unused toothbrush, towels are in the bathroom cabinet, and I didn’t know what you like to sleep in so here’s some shorts, joggers, a t-shirt and a hoodie. Wear whatever you want.” You rambled nervously as she chuckled. “Thank you Y/N. Good night.”

The next morning, your alarm blared, pulling you from the depths of sleep. Groggily, you stumbled out of bed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. Training awaited, and as you yawned your way through the morning routine, the events of the previous night flashed in your mind. You couldn’t help but glance at Alessia, who was already up, seemingly more awake than you were. She flashed you a tired yet friendly smile. “Morning,” she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep. ��Morning,” you replied, trying to shake off the remnants of your dreams. The two of you exchanged a glance, a silent acknowledgment of the peculiar situation you found yourselves in.

As you headed to training together, you couldn’t ignore the amused glances from your teammates. Alessia, clad in your training gear because she hadn’t brought her own, was the target of playful banter. “Nice walk of shame, Alessia!” Katie teased, eliciting laughter from others. “You two look tired, looks like our chemistry experiments worked a little too wel!” Quipped Beth, pointing out the bags under both your eyes.

Training progressed as usual, but not without the occasional teasing from one of your teammates. You knew none of them really meant anything by it though. Everyone knew it was just a bit and that the two of you were no more than friends. And so did you, cause that was the deal, right?

“You know,” Alessia began when the two of you were alone for a second after Katie asked her when you were planning your next sleepover, “despite all the teasing and the fake girlfriend stuff, I’m kind of enjoying getting to know you better.” You felt your cheeks starting to flush as you took in her genuine smile. “Yeah, me too. It’s strange how these things work out.” You tried your best to reciprocate her smile without blushing too hard. What on earth was happening to you?

The day went by swiftly as the prospect of having Alessia around as your fake girlfriend all weekend had you slowly spiral into a nervous wreck. When Friday afternoon finally arrived, you stood in front of the bathroom mirror as you went over the many things that could go wrong. What if your parents didn’t believe it? What if they did? What would that even mean? What if she never even showed up cause who were you to think she would do something like that for you? What if her boyfriend got mad? What if she suddenly started liking you, for real? What if she didn’t?

You splashed water in your face, desperately trying to stop your mind from spiralling, and more specifically to erase those last thoughts. Where was your mind coming up with all this none-sense? Was there something more to this? Another splash. No. None-sense. You groaned as you watched drops of water trickle down your face.

“Y/N? Everything okay?” You heard Lotte’s voice call out from the other side of the locked bathroom door. “Less is here.” You inhaled a sharp breath as you felt a familiar knot form in your stomach. “Shit,” you mumbled to yourself. “Be right there!”

“You’re early,” is the first thing you said when you came out of the bathroom after quickly drying yourself off and fixing your hair. “Nice to see you too.” A kindly smiling Alessia appeared once you opened the door. “Thought I’d help you prepare before your parents show up. Hey, are you okay?” She gazed at you as if she was examining your current state. “Yeah, I’m okay. Sorry, hi, thank you for being here.” You opened up your arms as an invitation for a hug which she accepted immediately.

“Allright, lovebirds, I’m out.” Lotte said, suitcase in hand as she hugged you both goodbye, leaving for a little romantic getaway with her boyfriend. “Have fun!” You both shouted at the same time as she closed the door behind herself.

You spent the next hour or so getting the house ready for your parent’s arrival and providing Alessia with all the necessary information on your family, as if you were doing a last minute study session for an exam.

Then, a knock on the door echoed through the house, signalling the arrival of your parents. A surge of nerves shot through you as you exchanged a quick glance with Alessia. You both took a deep breath, steeling yourselves for the upcoming performance. “Ready?” Alessia whispered, and you nodded, though your heart was doing a drumroll in your chest.

-> Chapter II

#alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo imagine #lionesses #lionesses x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso x reader #engwnt x reader #arsenal wfc x reader #arsenal wfc

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wordywarriorwrites · 24 days

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Feels Like Home

Feels Like Home | AO3 | Rating: M | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Javier Peña x F! Reader

Summary: They say you can't go home again, but maybe for you and Javi, home isn't a place - it's a person.

Warnings: NSFW. Smut. Language.

Getting Chucho Peña back up on his feet after a bad fall from the hayloft – that was all you’d been tasked to do.

But you hadn’t considered the prodigal son.

You hadn’t thought about all the ways dark, earthen eyes – eyes that had seen too much – could be so compellingly, devastatingly, hauntingly preoccupying. Hadn’t really thought of how the stories of this larger-than-life individual would pale in comparison to the actual person. Hadn’t really believed that this man and this town would get to you, become so much a part of you that you’re thinking about rejecting a career-changing offer that would see you moving on to bigger (though perhaps not exactly better) things.

Four seasons have passed, and yet, you haven’t felt the itch to pack a bag and hit the road. And because you stuck around, Javi, Chucho, and you have become los tres amigos. Reading books and watching Cheers. Exchanging cards and gifts on birthdays and at Christmas. You host dinner at your place once a month. Javi occasionally pops in during your meal break at the hospital to bring you something decent to eat. And sometimes, his dad will call you nenita – a term of endearment that feels far too precious to be directed toward a drifting, wayward soul like you.

It’s hard not to mull over the what-ifs – especially with how Javi looks beneath the sparking lights of the convention center. Exuding confidence, chit-chatting, and mingling with your coworkers like a pro, all understated power and authority. He stays still while everyone else gets pulled into his orbit, revolving slowly around him, like planets circling the sun. He steers you in that way, too, pulling you into his atmosphere, making it painfully impossible to keep your gaze averted from the fine figure he makes in his charcoal gray suit.

This isn’t the first fundraising event he’s escorted you to. In fact, he’s graciously played the role of plus-one several times. Haughty conversations, dry chicken dinners, watered-down drinks, and office politics – he’s been there and done that. And for a man who says he hated it, that he’s left all that bullshit behind, he’s really good at it, reading the room and owning his space within it better than most of your puffed-up peers.

It’s difficult not to admire him. Get attached to him. To feel as if you’ve made a real, true friend. You don’t have many of those and neither does he. It’s as if you’ve somehow been chosen. That out of all the people in the world, he’s picked you.

Bowling on Thursdays. The little snort that sometimes escapes when he laughs. His gentle manner with horses. The scent of his cologne; a blend of leather, wood, and oakmoss. The way he always refuses dessert, but somehow, ends up finding room for two servings, especially if it’s your homemade peach cobbler. His shoulder – the one you lean on when you nod off during a football game. His arm – the one you grip during scary movies. His ear – the one he lets you talk off when the day has been too hard and too bloody, and you can’t fall asleep.

If you leave, you lose it all. You lose him.

“Is it just me,” Javi prompts with a slight nudge, turning away from the inner circle and leaning in close to speak directly into your ear. “Or are all the doctor jokes really fucking terrible this year?”

His voice – low and amused – cuts through the chatter and clinking cutlery, guiding you out of the spiral of dark thoughts and back into the present. You glance up at him and wonder if that inquisitive, clever mind of his has worked out how you really feel and uncovered what you really think. And if he knows, has he just been too polite to say anything? Even if it’s only to let you down gently?

“Maybe you should teach them a thing or two,” you manage to quip, burying your emotions by taking a rather undignified gulp of merlot.

Javi snorts and shakes his head, “With their egos? Not likely. Look, can we get outta here? Go get some real food?”

You nod, placing your now empty wine glass on the tray of a passing waiter, and snagging your purse up from the table. Javi is quick to take your arm and the lead, guiding you both through the throng and a seemingly endless stream of polite farewells. The elevator, the parking garage, the drive-thru – none of it really registers. It’s not until you’ve fallen into the cushions of your couch, a heavy bag of tacos in hand, and two beers on the coffee table in front of you, that your brain gradually starts to come back online.

“M'starving,” Javi announces, snatching up the takeout bag and plopping down next to you. “Remind me next time to eat before I pick you up.”

He peels off his jacket. Kicks off his shoes. Wriggles his sock-covered toes into the plush carpet and sits forward on the cushion just far enough to reach the table. Large, deft hands drop napkins – one onto your knee and one onto his own – and then, he’s unfurling paper and distributing a half dozen oversized carne asada taquerias onto two paper plates. A brief pause. A rather ferocious bite. A long, low groan.

“Fuck me, that’s good,” he mumbles, cheeks puffed out and comically overfilled.

“Emily Post would not be impressed,” you teasingly chide.

Javi grins and juts his chin, “Hey, get my tie? It’s the one you got me for my birthday, and I don’t want to ruin it.”

Once his messy hands are out of the way, you do as he asks, working the knot free and slipping the silk off with a careful tug. You pop a few buttons for him, too, and he gives you a nod of thanks before digging back in with renewed gusto, washing it all down with long pulls on his beer.

You don’t know how he does it, but his steady, calm demeanor always manages to soothe you. You unclench your jaw. Relax your shoulders. Even eat with him. Once the food’s devoured and the mess is cleaned up, you offer him a nightcap that promises to be better than what he’d been served at the fundraiser, and he happily accepts.

With tumblers in hand, the two of you migrate out to the patio. Javi is quick to indulge in his after-dinner smoke, bringing flame to paper-wrapped tobacco with a practiced flick and inhaling deeply. He fills his lungs with nicotine a few more times before turning his attention to his glass, bringing it to his nose before taking a slow sip.

“Dios mio,” he appreciates aloud. “What is this?”

“Macallan,” you tell him.

“That’s damn good whiskey.”

“It ought to be for five grand a bottle.”

Javi chuckles and lets out a low whistle, “You lift it off a truck or something?”

“It was a gift,” you admit, taking a seat on the outdoor bench. “From Brad.”

He blinks slowly, “Your ex?”

You nod and shrug slightly, “Bastard always did have good taste.”

Javi doesn’t pry – he just smokes and paces, seemingly content for you to either share or plead the fifth. You take a sizable gulp for courage and finally tell him about Alaska, about the brand new, state-of-the-art facility, and what an opportunity it is. You explain the position. Tell him it offers better pay and an extremely generous housing stipend. A year there, maybe two, and you’ll have your pick of any hospital you want to work at going forward.

Brad’s presence, his role as department head, his status as your ex-fiancé, the wholly inappropriate “welcome gift” he supposedly sent on behalf of the entire staff – a gift you’re certain was pilfered from his dad’s private collection – none of it matters. You’re going there for work because you go where you’re needed, nothing more.

“Got the papers inside,” you say quietly. “Just gotta sign ‘em.”

Javi curses. Drops the butt of his cigarette into the remaining inch of whiskey. Sets the glass down a little too hard on the window ledge. It’s tense now, the air between you, the atmosphere filling with acridness neither one of you is accustomed to. He rolls his jaw. You tap your nail against the tumbler. Javier runs a hasty palm over his mustache and then, much to your surprise, he sits down next to you.

Your glass is taken and hastily put aside. Slowly, carefully, as if giving you the chance to pull away, Javi slots his fingers between yours. When you don’t protest, he holds on tight and brings your knuckles to his lips. His palm pressed to your palm; he lowers his head until his furrowed brow meets the back of your hand. It’s so achingly, intimately tender, so unexpected and jarring, that makes your eyes well.

You swallow hard and clear your throat, “Look, Javi, I’m –”

“Don’t,” he interjects with a slow, purposeful shake of his head. “Just… Don’t.”

The moment stretches, unbearable with the weight of the unknown, all nerve-wracking and heady at the same time. Javi eventually looks at you – eyes searching and examining and questioning. Head slightly tilted, a wayward chunk of his hair tumbles out of its’ carefully coiffed place, and you don’t consider your actions when you take back your hand to carefully brush it off his forehead.

“I don’t want you to go,” he murmurs.

You frown and stroke his cheek with your thumb, “I don’t want to, either.”

Javi’s fingertips brush your forearm, and when he leans forward, you meet him in the middle. Your mouths join. Lips brushing, breath stolen and returned. The two of you are traversing unmapped and uncharted territory, but it’s so easy. It's as if you’ve been touching like this, kissing like this, for such a long time.

All languid and unhurried until he licks into your mouth, coating your tongue in hints of vanilla, nutmeg, and smoke, and then, you’re both in pursuit of more. Tripping over each other to get back inside. Both of you going for his belt, and then, your underwear – no finesse or thought of the bedroom just steps away because the couch will work just fine.

Knees sunk into the cushions and cheek mashed into an armrest. Heels kicked off and the skirt of your ankle-length dress tugged up over your hips. Javi explores and discovers you from behind, tongue tasting the unmistakable evidence of your desire, and fingers stoking the flame until you’re begging him to put you out of your misery.

“Condoms,” you croak, gesturing blindly. “In my work bag.”

A low growl. Nips and licks and sucks to the back of your thighs, the curve of your hip, the rounds of your shoulders. You’re melting to the floor, rolling into your back, eyes barely able to focus as he snatches up your battered canvas tote and upends it, the contents spilling out messily and noisily across the carpet.

“Preparing for an orgy?” he teases, letting the line of rubbers unfurl above your head.

“Shut up,” you sass, nudging his thigh with your foot. “You know I had to teach that sex ed class today.”

“Did the hospital supply bananas?”

“Actually, it was cucumbers.”

Javi laughs. Tears open the package. Rucks up his shirt. You watch, gaze hooded as he slides the rubber on. You toss out a compliment to his technique, and he flushes, all hasty to push your legs apart and make room for himself between your splayed thighs.

“It’s been – I haven’t done this in a while,” you admit, bravado lessening slightly.

Javi clicks his tongue, thumbs making small circles on your kneecaps, “Me, neither, cariño. Been saving myself for you.”

Your spluttered laugh brings out his hidden dimples, and then, he kisses you. Smiles gradually fade, amusement giving way to urgency, prompting you to reach for him, guiding him until he’s slowly sinking into you, filling you. And it’s a snug fit, but it’s just right, and when Javi rocks his pelvis, you’re remade. Suddenly cast adrift, in search of an anchor, you dig your fingers into his hair. Seek out his shoulders with your hands. Follow the curve of his spine and twine your legs around him just so you can feel the way flexes and stretches into your touch.

“Don’t stop,” you whisper against the shell of his ear. “Javi, please… Please, don’t stop.”

“I won’t,” he promises against your throat. “You feel so good, mi corazón. Feels like you’re mine. Like you’ve always been mine. Fuck.”

His words thrum through you, wreaking havoc, curling your spine, bringing even more heat to your cheeks. There’s no hiding the way your legs are trembling, no stopping your body from bearing down, from clenching hard, from trying to keep him deep inside for as long as possible. His name spills out from your lips like marbles on a wooden floor, the reverent mantra smothered only by his mouth seeking yours.

“Say you’ll stay with me,” Javi demands, teeth nipping your chin.

You nod frantically, “Yes. Yes, I’ll stay with you.”

In possession of you, of your agreement, Javi’s hold becomes unforgiving – fingertips digging into the meat of your hip and the nape of your neck. His thrusts turn pointedly devastating – retreating and surging forward, all precise and measured, purposeful in the way he seems to take control, bringing you to orgasm for the third time with a broad, self-satisfied smile that isn’t as humble as he probably thinks it is.

When he finally comes, he buries himself to the hilt, hips stuttering, stubble rubbing against your cheek as he muffles his groans of pleasure into the crook of your neck. As the two of you lie together in the afterglow, his head pillowed by your breasts, your arms and legs wrapped around him, breaths slowing until they match, the truth of you, of him, becomes undeniably clear.

Home isn’t a place. It’s a person.

And you’ve finally found each other.

#javier pena fanfiction #javier pena fanfic #javier peña narcos #javi pena x reader #javi pena x you #narcos fanfiction #javier peña x reader #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javier pena smut #javier pena narcos

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faeriichaii · 3 months

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Hello! Could I have a request for kili x fem reader where reader is a pirate and her and her crew capture him and the others and there's some interest between kili and reader? 🤭Ty!

My Treasure ~ Kili x Fem!Pirate!Reader

A/N: Omg listen I have seen the request like the day you sent it to me and I love love love the idea!! Ngl I had so much fun writing this and like I love him so much and the fact that she is a pirate ugh I love it!!!! I really hope you like it cause I really loved writing this <33

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Warnings: fluff ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Words: 1.8k ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Request: Yes (Thank you <33) ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Amrâlimé ~ My Love ࿐ྂ

Summary: You have been travelling the sea for years on your wonderful ship with your crew, so you are a bit curious, when you find a bunch of dwarves hiding away in fish barrels.

Waves clashed against the ship, as the crew merrily sang a song they have made up during the travels on the sea. You have been on this ship with your crew for years. On the way, you have built yourself the reputation as one of the most fearless pirates known across the world. “Captain, there is a small boat crossing our path. What should we do?” You took your telescope from the leather holster on your hip. Looking through it, you saw a small boat filled with around 14 barrels travelling somewhat in your direction. “Let’s approach the ship slowly and see if it is worth the trouble.” “Aye aye Captain!” Your crew began to hoist the sails while you kept an eye out for the ship. As you got closer to the little boat, your crew threw a few lassos to pull the smaller ship towards your own.

“Kidd, take care of the ship while I have a little chit chat with the fisherman.” You said, walking towards the railing, taking a rope and swinging toward the other ship. A smirk formed on your lips, as you let your fingertips wander from one barrel to another. “So many barrels. What does a lonely man need so many barrels for?” You asked, tilting your head to the side. “I am just a mere fisherman, trying to go to Laketown. The barrels are filled to the brim with fish, I doubt a Captain like yourself would be in dire need of these.” The man tried to reason with you, making you rise an eyebrow. “What makes you think I wouldn’t be in need of fish? You see my dear friend,” A slight hint of mockery was visible in your voice, as you put a hand on the unknown man’s shoulder. “I am the captain of this very beautiful ship and if you haven’t already noticed, we are pirates.” You gave him a fake smile as you gently squeezed his shoulder. “And as pirates we really don’t work you know? We take what we want and we take it when we want to. But I feel quite generous. How about we take around hmm let’s see…”

You took a glance at each of the barrels. “We will take half of them.” You announced while removing your hand from his shoulder and winking some people from your crew down so they could carry them to your ship. As they started to lift the barrels, the top of each of them sprung open as the dwarves rushed out from between the fish. Your eyes widened in surprise, before pulling out your sword. “Well, this is interesting. Didn’t knew that fishermen nowadays also catch dwarves in the sea.” You said as your sword clashed against another one of the dwarves. “It also isn’t every day, that a pretty pirate lady tries to kidnap us.” The dwarf in front of you gave you a wink. A little laugh escaped your lips. Maybe you will actually have a little fun with them. “Do you normally flirt with people you fight with?” You ask him, pushing his sword away. Most of the dwarves’ weapons were laying on the wooden floor as their hands were up in the air. Pointing the tip of your sword at the one in front of you, he smiled at you while raising his hands up as well. “I only do with the ones that are extremely beautiful and take my breath away.” A soft blush dusted your cheeks as you smiled gently at him.

“Captain, what should we do with them?” “We will take them as our captives. Maybe they will share their stories with us.” The crew bound each dwarves’ wrists tightly, before heaving them on board. Turning around, you look at the man who tried to smuggle them into Laketown. “I’m not part of their company.” He said, raising his hands up. “Fair enough. Have a safe journey to Laketown.” Turning around, you grasped one of the ropes and ascended up onto your own ship. “You let him go Captain?” Kidd, your closest woman on the ship, asked you flabbergasted. “I thought you knew me by now? I normally don’t hold prisoners on the ship and he himself said he was not part of the company.” Kidd raised an eyebrow at your explanation. “But why did you take the dwarves captive?” The question made you ponder for a moment. You yourself weren’t entirely sure. Maybe it was your curiosity that made you tie them up and put them under the dock. “I guess I am just interested in their little life story and why they were trying to smuggle into Laketown.” You explained to her, as she led you to the cells, in which the dwarves were sitting in angrily.

“We tried to separate them as much as possible, however we only have so many cells.” She pointed at the four cells. Some of them were filled with three and some with four dwarves. And one Hobbit. A Hobbit? You tilted your head, as you approached the cell, where the hobbit sat on the small bed. “Why is a hobbit travelling with 13 dwarves?” You asked aloud. One of the dwarves in the cell walked towards you, grabbing the bar as he leaned as close as possible towards you. “It is none of your business.” He spat, as he gave you a glare. Tilting your head to the side you smiled at him. “Big words from a guy behind bars.” You mocked him. A few dwarves around you starting to protest at your rudeness towards their king. King? “Oh, so you are the king? Well then, I think we can arrange a little chit chat to discuss the price of your freedom.” A sweet smile formed on your lips, as you awaited an answer from him. Seconds passed and he didn’t say anything. “I will leave you for now. Think about my offer while I am gone.” You said, skipping up the small stairs to get back onto the main deck of the ship.

Hours passed and night arrived, hence you were travelling down to the prisoners’ quarters with bowls of food in your hands. You handed them out one by one, until you passed the last bowl. “Thank you, my stunning pirate princess.” Looking up from the food in your hand, you looked at the dwarf in front of you. The same one that flirted with you while fighting against you. The one that piqued your interest the most. “Well, isn’t it nice to see you again…” You trailed off, waiting for his name. “Kili.” “Kili. A cute name for a cute dwarf.” A chuckle left his lips, as he set the bowl aside. “Do you always flirt with the captives, you hold under your ship?” He asks, smirk gracing his lips. “Only with the ones that seem to really catch my attention.” You say, leaning on the wall beside the cell. He held onto the bars of his prison, trying to be closer to you.

His brown eyes glimmering in the soft candlelight. “Say, what makes you want to release us from this prison?” He asks, mirroring your stance in his small temporary room. “I wanted to discuss that with your king, however he really doesn’t want to cooperate with me.” A small fake pout formed on your lips. “Aren’t you a lucky girl? I happen to be his nephew. Prince Kili, at your service.” He bowed quickly, before straightening up again. You giggled at the gesture. “Well, prince Kili, my name is Captain (Y/N). It is wonderful to make your acquaintance.” Doing a curtsy, the both of you smiled at each other. You really begin to enjoy his company. “Captain (Y/N), I would like to know what you would like in order to receive our freedom back.” “It is very simple. All I want to know is about your journey and your destination. Why were you trying to smuggle into Laketown in fish barrels? What is the purpose of your visit? All these things.” You said, now also holding onto the bar of the cell. “Sit down Amrâlimé, it is quite the story.”

You listened intently at each word Kili muttered, as he told you the story of Thorin Oakenshield and his company. How they have encountered mountain Trolls, Orcs and Elves. And how they want to fight back against the dragon Smaug, who was living rent free in their home. “That indeed is quiet the story.” You say as you pulled yourself up with the help of the bars. Kili looked at you expectantly, almost as if he wanted to know if he managed to free the company. “We will arrive very close to Laketown tomorrow. Take one of the boats, maybe two, we have strung on the side of the ship. Find your little friend from earlier today and fight for your home.” You smiled softly at him, as he gave you a wide grin. Warmth spread through your body, as his hands covered yours. “Thank you so much Amrâlimé.”

As the next morning arrived, you opened up the cells as promised and gave the dwarves a few more rations of food, as well as other resources. You helped them onto the boats, until it was time to say good bye to Kili. “It was very nice to talk to you and listen to your story Kili. I really enjoyed it.” A smile graced your lips. Kili took your hands gently in his. “I will search for you as soon as we get our home back, I promise you.” He said, his eyes glimmering with hope and sincerity. You gasped softly at his confession, holding a little tighter onto his hands. “I hope so my prince.” Suddenly he put his hand on the back of you neck and pulled you down to him, connecting your lips. His stubble scratched against your cheek, as you tilted your head to the side to deepen the kiss. Your arms were wrapped around the back of his neck. The call of Kilis name made the both of you depart from each other. Stepping onto the last boat, the dwarves began to row into the direction of Laketown. You waved at their departure. “I will find you Amrâlimé, even if I have to travel across the whole sea for you.” Kili suddenly shouted. Who would have thought that a pirate captain would get so easily swooned over a dwarven prince?

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his-saiko · 1 year

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Nothing's Changed

— Sano Shinichiro x Reader

A collaboration with @quirrrky/@nekorei. Valentine's Smut Giveaway 2022. Given to @shnchiro

This is a repost from my previous blog. Edited [minor]. Explicit terms.

wc. 1.6k

! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT !

“Emma, is this such a good idea? I mean, if it was just the two of us I’ll be fine with it, but with your brothers?”

“Well, I can’t be the only girl. It’ll be boring then.”

You huffed out your tenseness. “It’s just that I haven’t seen your brother in a long time…”

“Everything will be fine.” She put your hand in hers and gave you that bright cute smile.

Your mind was in a bit of a turmoil. First time coming back to your hometown and you found yourself in a situation you wish you could avoid.

You decided to meet them in the terminal. You heard Emma’s voice call your name. You turned and saw her and Mikey waving at you.

Emma jumped you for a hug. “I’m so happy you could come!”

“How was your work?” Mikey asked.

“They needed to cut a few of their expenses so they had to lay me off. Fuck ‘em.” You cursed.

Your mind went back to how some of the people calling the shots were unfair but yfinding a new job might be even more difficult.

“I’m sure you’ll find a better one.” Mikey smiled as he said his version of comfort.

You all got in the bus. Everyone was excited for the nearing outing save for you and Shinichiro except for the occasional chit-chat you get from the younger ones.

You arrived at the onsen and booked your rooms. You got in yours and dressed up and sat down on the bed. You jumped a bit when Emma knocked on the door inviting you to join her to the spring.

“You can go on ahead, Emma. I think I need a little bit more sleep.” You confessed. “I’ll join you later for sure.”

“Oh, okay.” Emma’s dejection gave your heart a squeeze. You always had a soft spot for her.

You plopped yourself on the bed and closed your eyes. When you opened them, the evening sky greeted you from the window. You got up in time for Emma to call you and join them for dinner.

You’re in good spirits now at least. You joined everyone for dinner and was able to interact with them with no guilt.

You asked them to pass something to you but they were too busy. A fimiliar hand reached towards you holding what you wanted.

You looked and met with Shinichiro’s gaze. He had a familiar gentle smile on his face. You smiled back subtly and thanked him for his help.

You joined Emma to the hot spring. You felt everything melt away once your body felt the warm water. You closed your eyes and tilted your head back.

“Did you ever have a boyfriend after Nii-san?”

You opened your eyes and saw Emma looking down on you. You felt your cheeks heat up when your brain processed her question. “Eh, I don’t remember- I don’t think- I never was your brother’s girlfriend though?” You questioned even yourself.

“Huh. Nii-san never denied you being his girlfriend though.” Emma recalled.

“I didn’t know that.”

“I thought you guys were dating back then. Everyone thought you were dating.”

You can only chuckle. You couldn’t help but reminisce your childhood. You smiled. “No. I never had a boyfriend.” You finally answered.

~~~

Everything was quiet. You had a craving for a late-night snack and drink. You quietly opened your door and got to the vending machines. You jumped and quickly put your back against the machine when you heard something unusual.

You saw Shinichiro with a bag of food and drinks.

“Oh, did I scare you?” He chuckled apologetically.

“Yeah…” You breathed out. “I was looking for something to eat and drink.”

“Oh… well, I only got beer and chips.” He raised the bag in his hand. “We could share.” He suggested.

“Yeah, sure.” You nodded. “Your room or my room?”

“Let’s go with my room. I don’t want trash in yours.”

You followed him to his room and sat on the floor. He sat beside you and opened one of the beers for you.

“Thank you.” You took the beer and chugged it down.

You talked about the motor shop and told him that you were happy that he’s able to do one of the things he wanted. He talked about how he’s got good business because of the people he’s with and how Mikey uses the bike now. You reminisced the moments you had when you were kids and how each of your mannerisms didn’t change.

Silence blew in the room and the laughter died down.

“How was it?” He softly asks.

“How was what?” You wiped your chin with your hand. “Oh, well, it really wasn’t different from anything else. But it was difficult to be a newbie in the company. Most of my seniors were jerks.” You spilled and sighed.

“Was it worth it?”

You felt one of the corner of your lips twitch up. You chuckled nervously. Your ears were burning up from both the alcohol and the question. “Well, I got the experience that counts for something.”

You drank the last of your beer and laid your head on the bed and so did Shinichiro.

“You know, Emma asked if I had a boyfriend.” You nonchalantly chuckled. “Never did I ever one though.” You slurred and sighed. “It feels like everyone doesn’t get what relationships are supposed to meant these days.”

“Yeah?”

You hummed and leaned on his shoulder. “I don’t know. Maybe, if I hadn’t fucked up. Maybe, if I wasn’t greedy. Some things wouldn’t have to change.” You closed your eyes and sighed deeply.

“Why? What changed?”

You lifted your head to look at him. Your eyes met his and the gap between your faces made your face burn.

“I…”

You felt something pulling you close but you can only look at it as he looks down at you gently.

“I still think we ended up where we needed to be.” Shinichiro tucked your stray hair behind your ear. “And you’re still as beautiful as ever.” His hand rested on your cheek.

You giggled uncontrollably and put your hand over his. “If only men are more like you, if only it were you…” You mumbled.

“Well, we’re here…” His eyes darted from your eyes and lips back and forth. “Isn’t this what we needed?”

You closed your eyes and felt his lips on yours. Your body pulled back on instinct but he pulled you closer to him and it made you squeek.

He lifted you off the floor and placed you on the bed. He crashed his lips on yours and slowly trailed his lips down to your neck. His hand traced your inner thigh to your slit, making you moan. He hastily removed our clothes.

He started to pepper his kisses from your lips down to every curve and nook of your body. When he reached your pussy, he very slowly licked it while he fixed his eyes on you to see your reaction. Seeing you struggle to keep yourself from squirming under his touch was like a drug that he has been waiting for.

He inserted his fingers and moved them in and out to stimulate your g-spot while he plays with your clit with the tip of his tongue. He paced himself with your breathing until you came.

He lifted himself up and crawled over you so your eyes would meet. He kissed your forehead and chuckled to himself. “I might have done this out of order. What I wanted to do was say 'I love you.’”

You laughed and cupped his cheeks and let your foreheads touch. “Well, better now than never?” You questioned if your words fit the moment. “I love you too.” You whispered.

You kissed each other and Shinichiro lifted your hips put get the pillow under your back. He set himself and put his cock in you and the sound of the both of your moans sounded like it was the only sound in the world.

He moved his hips slowly so you could adjust around him but you couldn’t help but squeeze him in at the mere sensation of him inside you.

“Mmm. Fuck! I won’t be able to stop myself from cumming if you keep squeezing me.”

You just whined.

He got in deeper and stayed there before kissing you. “Just relax.” He whispered as he ran his fingers through your hair. “You can catch your breath if you want to.”

You embraced Shinichiro and breathed slowly until you relaxed.

Shinichiro wasn’t bothered by your embraced and even kissed your cheek. “You ready?”

You nodded.

He started moving slowly. The two of you could only hear yourselves moaning.

“Shin.”

When he heard you say his name, he started moving faster. You whimpered from surprise but couldn’t help from wanting more. If only you could find the words to say it.

“Shin...” You moaned one more time.

“Fuck.” You felt him get in a better position and went harder and faster. His moans became more frequent and he started saying your name.

Your legs started to tense up and you squeezed his waist. His movements became rougher and you both started moaning out each other’s name until you both reach your climax.

His movements finally became slower and the both of you catch your breath. He lied down beside you.

You immediately lay your head on his chest and he played with your hair.

“What’s your plan now?”

You hummed. “Why don’t we sleep first then I’ll think about it in the morning?” You chuckled.

“Yeah, that’s a good idea.” He tucked the both of you in and kissed your forehead.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo rev #tokyo rev smut #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo rev x you #tokyo rev x y/n #tokyo rev x reader #sano shinichiro #shinichiro sano #shinichiro smut #tr shinichiro #shinichiro x you #shinichiro x y/n #shinichiro x reader

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jmdbjk · 1 year

Text

2023 predictions (humor me)

So now I’m gonna make my predictions for 2023 the best way I know how. Armed with bare bones basic facts fueled with rumors and gossip and hearsay and sprinkled with a few social media posts! Yeah! All you overthinkers gather ‘round!

I know perfectly well trying to predict the future is futile. But these are all the different scenarios rolling around in my head. Their solo music releases and their military enlistments are the two big things happening in 2023 and hold the most meaning to us.

So remember I’m just wingin’ it, these are just my thoughts based on nothing except my overactive thinking and my need to lighten up the mood because gawwwd... 2025 is so farrrrr away... ...

The solo albums:

Y’all, all they’re gonna do is toss up some pieces of paper with their names written on them and they’ll get someone to pick them up one by one and read the names... that’s the order. Yep. Random. They don’t know. We don’t know.

Ok, changed my mind because I was just kidding... this will be the order of solo releases... maybe:

1. Yoongi

...because he’s basically started up a Youtube channel (even though its still on Bangtan TV) where he drinks alcohol and chit chats with different people. And he’s showing us he’s got a Yoobooty and smooth moves now. The only thing that makes me second guess myself is we haven’t had any teasers of actual solo musical work happening except maybe one or two pics on Insta of his studio. But we know he’s the Magic Man when it comes to working on music. Drops whole albums like “oh, I did this... here it is.” Maybe the album is ready, its just waiting for the random pieces of paper toss up.

Actually, the real toss up is whether it will be Yoongi first or....

2. Jimin

...because the man has been clocking into work every day at 9:00 a.m. like he’s on a mission to be employee of the year or something. He sort of freaks me out when he goes to bed by 10:00 p.m. or is up and moving before 9:00 a.m. What happened to my sexy little vampire who sleeps all day? Everyone... EVERYONE... wants to show off they’re working with him and they keep saying Jimin is amazing, the song is amazing, etc. That’s mostly how we know something is coming. Soon. I’m sorta scared. I feel like its gonna hit like a freight train. Hopefully a freight train loaded with tight fitting pants and loose shirts that won’t stay on him.

That being said, we actually have some pretty good evidence that Jimin will be on a song by BigBang member Taeyang. In January. Which begins today. That would be a great lead up to his solo album. Not that we need any more anticipation (see comment above about freight train).

3. Tae

...because he just said he’s been working on his fo-fo for two years. I know that has nothing to do with new music but it has to do with his warped sense of time. We know he’s been making songs for longer than that. JUST DO IT! PULL THE TRIGGER! THE SONGS ARE IN THE CAN! I don’t know though. I think we’d be seeing some teasers like we’ve seen with Jimin. I mean, Tae has had a pfp on his Insta from his fo-fo collection for quite a while now. Most of the year. And we had no idea it was from the fo-fo. Tae would tease his own music like that. What have we missed that could have been teasers? Just that he “threw away” those snippets he’s shared...but seriously... I think we’ll see some acting before music. Or maybe the acting will coincide with promotions for his solo release. That’s my prediction for Tae...sort of a maybe/maybe not situation.

4. Jungkook

....What can I say? He told us there’s a lot of things he wants to do in life and now he has a lot of time on his hands. So he’s out there riding his Harley and snowboarding, fueling those fanfics. However. This tour of meat restaurants that we’ve observed...he’s made that conspicuous on purpose. Signing autographs. He doesn’t have to do that. I am beginning to wonder if that will have something to do with promotions for his solo work. Hear me out: Hobi did some interviews on a radio show and IU’s show, Joon did some interviews on Youtuber channels and KBS news, Jin did some interviews with TV personalities/Youtubers... I can’t really see Jungkook doing any of that, being interviewed like that. JK is our free spirit who likes to hover in the background. Our little Gen Z’er thinking out of the box. So my prediction is JK is gonna walk us through an album of some sorts, song by song but be at a different meat restaurant while doing so. Along with showing us which restaurant has the best soju selection. Win win! Except we’ve not heard a single pin drop about whether he is working on something. So there’s that. Actually, strike that. JK is not gonna share his deepest inner thoughts on the songs he may ever release. He’ll just say, “they’re about Army” or “I was thinking about Army when I wrote that”... while stuffing his face with a wad of meat and radish. Sigh.

Military service (ugh):

This only requires common sense. Which there’s been very little of that on all sides regarding this topic. We were so delusional, including moi. Anyway, here I am carrying on with the delusional only armed with my bare bones basic facts and all my reconnaissance efforts regarding hearsay (see what I did there?) ...

Everything we’ve been told points to a 2025 comeback. They said so. There is also a contract renewal in this timeframe. We already know Jin will be discharged on June 12, 2024. So here’s my irrelevant and wildly guessed at predictions for the others... whups, I meant here’s what my reconnaissance tells me:

Namjoon, born in 1994, is 28 years old and will enter the military by March 2023. Joon will be going so soon in 2023 in order to get back and start preparing for a BTS comeback. That puts his discharge in September 2024, three months after Jin is discharged. Joon himself said he will do his best to get them ready for 2025.

Yoongi, born in 1993 will turn 30 years old soon (international age) and will enter the military by May 2023. He has no choice but to submit his paperwork due to his age. That would put his discharge by November 2024.

Hmmm. Second half of 2024 now not sounding quite like the wasteland of radio silence I previously thought it would be...

Hobi, born in 1994 will turn 28 in February; Jimin, born in 1995, is 27 years old and they will both enter the military by September 2023. Just like entering in the dead of winter, I suspect the dead heat of the middle of summer is not a desirable time to enter military boot camp training so they will delay until the heat of summer has faded. This would put their discharge dates in March 2025. Spring Day indeed. However, this would make September 2023 blisteringly heartbreaking for two to go at the same time.

Tae, also born in 1995, is also 27 years old. Tae going or not going with Jimin and Hobi will be based on the timing of his solo release. He’s really sort of a big question mark for me as far as timing. Tae may go with Jungkook.

Jungkook, born 1997 just turned 25. I think he will be enlisted before November 2023. This would put his discharge date in May 2025. Barely in time for Festa June 2025. Festa 2025 would be a great time for them to gather around the table again and share their military stories with us.

Or...

Jungkook will not enlist in 2023. SAY WHAT? He does not have to enlist until 2027, I believe, if he wanted to wait. But that would mean another interruption for BTS as a group which makes me already go, yeah, naw, he’s not waiting. Except things will be very different by 2025. They will be established solo artists. They can slow the roll on BTS and balance it with solo work. Between 2025 and 2027 they could have a very long and successful comeback world tour. That would set them up for another break (JK’s military duty). And the others could fill the gap with solo work. When JK gets back in 2029 it will be time to prep for the Busan World Expo (if Busan is chosen) as well as another BTS comeback.

But, shit happens. Right, 2022?

Other predictions:

Yoongi has a “really” “big” “something” that he is gonna try and he is “nervous” about it but will be a step toward his “dream”... which is... I have no idea so I will use my imagination: He is establishing a plum orchard and will produce his first fruit wine in 2025.

Also, Yoongi will not cut his hair until it’s time for enlistment.

Hobi will release some more music and/or have more collabs. I think he may do more live performances like at festivals and stuff through the summer. I think there is a chance he might be a fashion ambassador...for who? I have no idea.

Jimin will be riding out the wave of his solo release through the summer and I hope (for his sake) doing performances too, and some of them will be in the United States or other parts of the globe, joining the artists he’s collabbed with during their concerts.

Jungkook...honestly...it would not shock me if we do not get a full album from our bunny. Some collabs, maybe an EP? He will surprise us with something else. I don’t know what.

BTS as a group: when they “reconvene” in 2025 they will not be the same BTS as we know it. That’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it.

Ok, I will check back on all of this in say... six months... and we’ll all laugh together at how stupid everything is that I just said. I mean, assuming I’ve survived PJM1 and all...

#me just being delusional #me also rambling #jimin #jungkook #yoongi #hobi #taehyung #namjoon #my clairvoyance is non-existent #pjm1 is coming

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ceriseisland · 10 months

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Silver pressed his back against the rough bark of the tree, watching the water of the Viridian River flow swiftly by. The Viridian Forest was as menacing as it was beautiful, the vast green depths housing all manner of pokemon, and the local edict was to stick to the path to keep yourself safe. The rule didn’t apply to Yellow and Red of course, who whiled away their time by the river whenever Red was in town. Silver watched Yellow’s bobber float lazily in the current, feeling impatience prick him.

“So you guys… do this all day?”

“Pretty much,” answered Red, who was counting the leaves in the canopy. Several of their pokemon were sprawled about the clearing; Pika and Chu Chu napped together while Venusaur basked in a sunny spot to the side, listening to Raticate rustling in the grass behind them. Silver had let Weavile out too, and she rested her head on her claws in the grass beside him, looking up often, expecting instructions. “I’ll have to check on the gym in a couple hours here, but there’s never much to do when I’m in Viridian.” Red plucked some of the sugargrass that grew by the river, a plant prolific in the forest whose white stem tasted sweet when you sucked on it. “Oh, did I ever tell you about those people near the power plant last year?” Yellow shook her head, and Red launched into the story, which involved poachers, a bucket of paint, and a Spearow.

Silver didn’t know Red well, but he found him easy enough to get along with. Red spoke passionately and laughed easily, which contrasted well with Yellow’s quiet kindness. There was something about Yellow that was simultaneously very normal and ethereal, and he couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but she was nice enough, and no one knew Viridian better than she did. Silver had asked to spend the day with them because he wanted to get in touch with his Viridian roots, though he’d never say it that way out loud. But now that he was here, life in Viridian seemed as slow and meandering as the river, which Silver was struggling to comprehend.

Red finished his story and he and Yellow fell into their idle chit-chat about their friends and their pokemon, and news about how Blue’s training journey was going. “He’s in the Cerulean badlands now, last I heard,” Red reported. “I was thinking of going for a wander when he gets back and takes over the gym again.”

“Oh cool, where to?”

“Celadon, probably.” Red turned to Silver. “Have you been to the hills out there?”

“No. I haven’t spent much time in Kanto.”

“You should. It’s gorgeous out there, and there’s tons of strong pokemon to train against.” Silver sat up a little straighter; it occurred to him that he had never actually seen Red train. “You know, I think it was around Celadon that Blue and me accidentally exchanged our entire teams once. That was great. He drilled them so much they barely listened to me when I got them back.”

“What’s your training like? Do you think you could teach me?”

“Oh man,” Red laughed nervously. “I hate it when people ask me to teach them. I always just refer them to Blue.”

“Really? I would have thought teaching would be your thing.” Gold often bragged that Red had coached him, though from his description it sounded more like they had one battle and left the mountain to hang out at Red’s house.

“Red’s style is harder to replicate,” Yellow explained, and Red nodded.

Silver could get that. He had seen Red fight, and knew that his strength was creativity. Red’s genius came from thinking on his feet and making connections in the moment that few people could come up with. Compared to Blue’s highly technical approach, Red’s highly adaptive style was innate, something hard to hone and even harder to teach.

“I could try,” said Red. “Give you some advice, at least.” He scooted closer to Weavile, and the pokemon raised its head at attention.

Silver knew what to expect from being coached; he had been training with Lance and Pryce for a year now, and though they both had their own styles the idea was the same. Lance had Silver focus on building power, and Pryce, crafty as he was, examined every curveball that could possibly be thrown during a battle and worked through each situation individually, quizzing Silver on the topic and refusing to move on with the lesson until Silver came up with a good answer. He was always hitting his cane on the ground and telling Silver to think, making Silver prickle with irritation.

“Tell me why beam attacks like hyper beam are especially dangerous,” he quizzed Silver one day at the start of a lesson.

“Uh,” Silver had said, thinking about Lance’s special hyper beam technique. “Because you can train the beams to go in multiple directions.”

Pryce mulled that over. “I guess that’s possible. That’s not the answer I’m looking for, though.”

“Because they can be hard to dodge,” Silver guessed.

“That’s a novice problem. Come on, boy, you’re smarter than this.”

“Because they’re not a single hit, like a punch. A well-trained hyper beam can last for forty-five seconds.”

“And why is that a problem?”

“Because if it knocks you down, you’ll keep taking damage for the entire duration.”

“And how do you get around that?”

“By improving your pokemon’s recovery time, so you only take the initial hit.”

“Exactly!” Pryce snapped his fingers, and what followed was a brutal but effective training session on everything from recovery time to dodging and deflecting beam attacks. Silver thought that Pryce was trying to make up for what he had done in his own way by training him, and Silver hadn’t decided how he felt about that yet.

Red looked at Weavile, her eyes darting between the two trainers, and Silver waited for Red to tell him to think, but that wasn’t what Red said.

“How long have you known Weavile?”

Silver tilted his head. “My whole life, basically.”

“You must know each other pretty well, then.”

“Uh, yeah, I guess.”

The answer must not have convinced Red, because he frowned. “When was the last time you played together?”

“Play?” Silver almost laughed, the idea was that absurd. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had relaxed. “I don’t have time for that.”

Red thought for a moment. “I’ll tell you a secret. You know that tournament battle I had with Lorelei last year?”

“Of course.” Everyone knew about that fight, where Lorelei’s newly trained Whiscash had filled the field with feet of muddy water and hid, striking out of nowhere, and Red had used the little-known fact that water pokemon have a slight pull effect on the water around them to beat her. Even Silver had never noticed that his water pokemon caused tiny ripples in water. These slight movements appeared over Poliwhirl’s head when it was submerged, and Red had used that to communicate with Aerodactyl about where to strike. He was famous for that maneuver.

“You wanna know how I got the idea?” Red was almost grinning.

“Of course.”

“I was walking with Poli in the ocean, and we started playing a game where Poli hid in the surf and I tried to find it. That was when I noticed I could tell where it was based on how the water bent around it, and later during that fight I remembered it and used it.

“That can’t be right. That’s how you came up with that?”

“You never know what your pokemon can really do unless you spend time with them.” Then he added a bit sheepishly, “That’s the best advice I have.”

Red sat back, digging up another strand of sugargrass. Silver looked down at Weavile, who still lay with her claws neatly crossed, and chewed over the idea of Red’s secret to success.

“So when you ‘go for a wander’, that’s basically the same as Blue going on a training journey?”

“I guess,” Red laughed. “It’s not like I don’t train. You try being best friends with Blue and not training all the time. I just think it’s all useless if you don’t have fun with your pokemon too. That’s the whole point of battling, right?”

No, Silver thought, the point of battling is to rid the world of people like Team Rocket, but he only said “I guess,” and looked down at Weavile again. The forest continued its lazy thrum, and Red and Yellow returned to their usual chatting about nothing. So this is Viridian, Silver thought as he listened to them talk about Bill’s latest invention and what Green had said the last time they had seen her, their plans to go looking for geodes later in the hills west of the city, and how good Raticate was at finding them. Silver thought about letting Feraligatr swim in the river, and how much Honchkrow liked having a copse of trees to caw out of.

“Is it alright if I stay a bit longer?” Silver asked, butting in without meaning to.

“Yeah, sure,” said Red, stretching. “It’s not like we have anything going on.”

Silver settled back against his tree, almost lulled into a nap while he watched Yellow’s bobber skip on the water that wended its way between the banks on its way through the forest and out toward the ocean.

#pokespe #fic #red #silver

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megahwn · 1 year

Text

Swan Song

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x female reader

Genre: hybrid!au; speed dating!au; strangers to lovers

Word Count: 11.030

Rating:18+

Warnings: asexuality mention; alcohol mentions/consumption; explicit language; discussion of mistreatment of hybrids; fondling over clothes; nipple play; handjob; feather play; cunnilingus; vaginal fingering; finger sucking; unprotected vaginal intercourse; almost simultaneous orgasms; creampie

Summary: You think your choice to attend a local speed dating event is a complete waste of time, as you don’t feel a spark with anyone. Then you meet your final date.

A/N: Part of @jeonggukkiepabo‘s Hybrid Collab. The questions asked in this fic come from {THE AND} Strangers Edition, which can be found here.

At this exact moment, you can’t think of anything worse than speed dating.

Your best friend, lovable thing that she is, somehow managed to convince you that you needed to ‘get out more’ and ‘meet new people.’ The thing that no one knows about you, however, is this: you think you might be incapable of romantic love. You’ve never even really felt attracted to another person, much less had any kind of feelings of affection for them. Bottom line, you think you might be broken. (Either that or you belong on the asexual/aromantic spectrum, which is completely valid but you don’t think is an accurate description of how you feel. It’s… confusing.)

Anyway, your best friend still believes in you even if you don’t, so she introduced you to the world of ‘fancy bar speed dating’. You’re meant to go to a fancy bar, as the name implies, get a drink, and sit at a table as several men cycle through. You’re meant to chit-chat and get to know each other over the course of five minutes. Then, once the night ends, you meet back up with anyone you felt like you had a spark with and exchange information or plan to see each other again. While you still don’t really think anything productive will come out of this evening, you had allowed yourself to become just a bit excited about the night ahead while you were getting ready earlier.

Right now, however, you find yourself nursing your drink while your first date of the night speaks to you from across the table, and you just know you should have stayed home with your ice cream and wine.

The guy is nice enough, attractive even, but Jesus his life sounds boring. He apparently goes to the gym every morning at 6:00am before starting his office job a few hours later. You don’t even register the rest of what he says about his work, because at that moment the daydreaming side of your brain kicks in and takes your mind on a complete tangent. You begin wondering how you would fare if you worked at a desk instead of with the kids who keep you on your feet at all hours of the day. Then you begin thinking about how you want to move up the proverbial ladder at work, and how you need to go back to school to make that happen. The prospect excites you and makes you nervous all at once.

“-But the only reason I didn’t win that marathon is because I helped an older guy who fell down near the finish line. The video went pretty viral, maybe you saw it.”

You realize the man has paused his speech for you to respond to him, so you take a large gulp of your drink to give yourself some time to come up with something to say. The alcohol burns the back of your throat.

“Um… no, actually, I haven’t seen the video. Sorry,” you finally manage to get out somewhat dumbly. The man’s face morphs from one of self-assuredness to one of disappointment almost immediately. You can’t say you care very much, if you’re being honest.

Your second date is no better, if not worse. This guy brought a list - an actual, physical list - of qualities that he ‘requires’ any partner of his to possess. Before you’re even able to introduce yourself completely, he’s already reading them off the piece of paper like he can’t remember them if he doesn’t read them verbatim.

“So basically I’m gonna need you to be honest about everything, be good with kids because we’ll have at least four, be a great cook, never wear anything that I don’t approve of…”

That’s where you tune him out completely.

It’s disconcerting that this egomaniac thinks he can treat a date like an interview and actually get a woman that way. What’s worse, though, is that you actually do possess some of the qualities he had rattled off at you. Maybe it’s time for a new personality.

The night continues exactly as you feared it would: with you, tequila sunrise in hand, unimpressed by any of the men who come to your table. There's nothing wrong with them, per se (okay, the guy with the list was pretty bad), but you just don't feel a spark… with any of them. You don't find them interesting or exciting. One man droned on for so long about his fratty college days that you were tempted to pretend the buzzer had gone off just to get rid of him.

Just as you decide you are ready to throw in the towel and go home to your ice cream and wine, the host announces that it is time for the final round of dates. You debate with yourself for a moment, wondering whether you can stand another five minutes with another man you don't care about, when someone sits down across from you and begins to speak. You look up from your drink to interrupt him and make up some bullshit excuse for why you suddenly have to leave, but as soon as you lock eyes with the stranger, your words die in your throat.

The man is practically ethereal in his beauty, from his raven hair to his dark chocolate eyes to his full cherry lips to - are those dimples? What the hell is this guy doing here when he's this gorgeous? There must be something wrong with him, you quickly decide. You double down on your decision to leave the place before the round ends when you accidentally tune in to what the man is saying to you, and boy does it make you wish you had been paying attention to him earlier.

"- So basically I've been wanting to meet you since I saw you at the bar earlier, but I got really nervous so I went to the bathroom and hid my wings under my jacket. So... yeah." The man ends his speech with a huff of what sounds like frustration or... embarrassment, maybe? You don't even register anything he had said to you because he genuinely looks so sad now, and you find that you actually feel bad about it.

Wait.

"What did you say about wings?" you ask, more intensely than you had meant to sound. The man's head shoots up and a look of fear flashes across his face for a moment before he appears to steel himself.

"Out of everything I just said," he starts, sounding cautious, "you're the most interested in my wings?"

Wow, okay, you think, you definitely have to come clean about not hearing the first half of whatever this guy was saying, because apparently mentioning his wings was not the correct thing to do.

"Okay," you reply, "I need to be honest here. I missed a whole bunch of what you said at first, and only really started paying attention when you said you had been wanting to meet me since the bar. If you said something about your... wings... before that, then I missed it. So if it's not too much trouble, could you start from the beginning?"

Why, why did you just say all that? Why did you even ask about his wings in the first place? You had literally just decided there had to be something wrong with this guy and that you needed to go home anyway, that tonight was a total bust. Why in the world are you still sitting here and actually having a back-and-forth with the man? And why do you feel so relieved to see him smile right now? Before you can freak out any more than you already have, you focus your attention back onto the stranger as he begins to speak again.

“Okay, so I’m guessing you didn’t hear the part about me being a hybrid, then?” A shy smile graces his face as he speaks, and he dips his head but peeks up at you, seemingly to gauge how you will react to his revelation. That’s when it clicks for you.

This guy is nervous for you to know that he’s a hybrid.

But why?

There are some people out there who are still stuck in the past, who can’t accept that hybrids now live among humans as their equals. But that’s never been how you think. You’ve been friends with hybrids for many years. Hell, even some of your family members are married to hybrids, so you’ve been surrounded by them since you were little.

Do you give off some sort of anti-hybrid vibe that this guy is picking up on? You really hope not. You don’t stop to ponder why you hope that.

“Do you think I don’t like hybrids or something?” you blurt out without thinking any further. The man’s eyes widen and he begins shaking his head vigorously.

“No, no! It’s not that at all!” he says earnestly. His voice then softens considerably when he says, “It’s just that, um… usually, when I tell people - I mean, women - that I’m a hybrid, they get all excited and want to know more about that, but they don’t want to know more about me as a person.”

“Oh, ew,” you say immediately, distaste bubbling up inside you at the thought of humans fetishizing hybrids.

“Yeah,” the man says, his face falling slightly. “So I didn’t want you to only be interested in me because of that, so I hid my wings. But then I felt like I would be lying to you if I didn’t say anything about them, so that’s why I told you as soon as I sat down.”

“It’s not lying,” you respond after a beat, leaning forward and placing your elbows onto the table that sits between you and the handsome hybrid. “It’s totally okay to not want someone to use you or pretend to be interested in you just because you’re a hybrid. I get why you would want to hide your wings because of that.”

The man smiles softly, and a light blush spreads across his cheeks. “I’m Namjoon, by the way. I don’t think I ever actually introduced myself in my embarrassing rush to be honest.”

You snort at Namjoon’s cute self-deprecating comment and grin back at him as you introduce yourself. Your curiosity still burns into your thoughts, though, so you attempt to sound casual when you say, “So... what kind of hybrid thinks he needs to attend a speed dating event, anyway?”

Namjoon’s blush appears to deepen at your question. “A rare one with very little confidence,” he replies back, although it sounds more like a question than a statement.

“A rare one, huh?” you reply, barely able to conceal your curiosity at this point. You don’t want to make it seem like you’re doing exactly the thing Namjoon feared you would do, but you really want to know exactly what kind of hybrid he is.

As Namjoon nods in response to your question, you remember that you hadn’t been paying attention to him when he was speaking earlier. Maybe he mentioned what kind of hybrid he was then and you just didn’t catch it, you think excitedly. You mentally thank your scatterbrainedness for paying off in this moment.

“Did you mention what kind of hybrid you were when I wasn’t paying attention?” you attempt to sound apologetic when you speak. Namjoon rolls his eyes good-naturedly and chuckles slightly.

“I don’t think I did, actually,” he responds lightly, as though he has already become comfortable with you and your questions. He doesn’t say anything else though. He just looks at you expectantly, as if he wants you to just come out and ask the question already.

Are you reading the signals correctly? You’re not sure what to do at this point, considering that only a few moments ago Namjoon seemed almost afraid to let you know that he was a hybrid at all, and now it seems like he’s completely open about it and even wants you to ask him about it. What brought about such a quick change? Maybe it was your earlier responses to him speaking about the struggles of dating as a hybrid. Maybe he wanted you to ask, but he was just nervous about what you’d do if you found out.

But why you? Why does he feel comfortable with you, when you’ve known each other for fewer than five minutes? And why do you feel comfortable with him? You’re honestly confused, but at the same time you notice something in yourself that feels like… gratitude, maybe? Appreciation? Whatever it is, you do know that you think Namjoon’s ability to put his fears aside for you, whatever the reason may be, is possibly the most attractive thing about him to you in this moment. Even more than those dimples.

You brace yourself to ask what kind of hybrid he is and possibly be that person and ruin everything because, dammit, you really just can’t help yourself at this point. If you read the signs wrong after all, then so be it. It’s not like this guy is your soulmate or anything. (Right? Right.)

Just as you open your mouth to speak, however, the final buzzer sounds and the announcer’s voice booms into the room, interrupting your stream of consciousness and bringing you back into the present.

“Alright, folks, that’s the end of the evening! If you managed to find a spark with anyone here tonight, feel free to leave us a kind Yelp review! Good night!”

You and Namjoon roll your eyes simultaneously, then catch the other’s gaze and begin to giggle. Neither one of you moves to get up from the table even though everyone else is clearing out from the speed dating area, either leaving the building entirely or heading back to the bar.

For some reason, your time with Namjoon has lifted your mood immensely and you are no longer pining for your ice cream and wine back at home. What is this feeling you’re experiencing? Why does this guy have such an effect on you? You want to question it further, but you find that you’re too taken with Namjoon to do so. You just know that five minutes with him was not enough time. Not even close.

“So, you gonna leave a good Yelp review?” you ask cheekily, hoping to stall the man across from you. Namjoon’s eyebrows shoot up and his cheeks redden once more.

“Um… uh…” he stammers cutely.

“Because I think I might have to,” you continue honestly. You have no desire to lie to him, and you’re not afraid of how he might react. Namjoon doesn’t say anything, but his ears do take on the same shade of crimson as his face. Why does that make your insides hotter?

When Namjoon’s stammering continues, you decide to take a different approach and ask him, “Do you like playing games?”

Namjoon clamps his lips together and nods at you.

You’re really glad you stayed for the final round.

As soon as you step into your apartment, your puppy runs to the door to greet you, tail wagging. You take on your baby voice immediately and exclaim, “Hi, bubby! I missed you!”

You almost forget about Namjoon standing in your doorway during your puppy greeting ritual, until the dog moves on from you and jumps up onto Namjoon’s legs to get some ear scratches.

“Oh gosh, I’m sorry! Muffin, get down!” You move to take your puppy away from Namjoon’s nice slacks, but before you can, Namjoon is petting Muffin like she is his own dog.

Your insides get hot again at the sight of Namjoon gently petting your dog’s ears. You roll your eyes internally and remind yourself that it isn’t actually that crazy that Namjoon is a dog-lover. Lots of people are dog-lovers, after all.

Once Muffin leaves Namjoon’s side and trots back over to her designated spot on your sofa, you lead Namjoon from the entryway into your living room.

Your place is pretty small, but in a way that’s cozy rather than suffocating. You decorated it well, if you do say so yourself. You filled it up with your books and your plants and your artwork, and it makes you happy. Your favorite part of your apartment, though, is the little corner that houses your record player and all of your records. You make a beeline for that corner of your living room and put on your favorite record. Then you offer Namjoon a glass of wine, which he readily accepts.

You come back from the kitchen, two full glasses in hand, and you have no choice but to drink in the sight before you. Namjoon is perched on the middle cushion of your sofa, once again petting Muffin’s ears. At some point while you were pouring wine, Namjoon must have lit the candles sitting atop your coffee table. They are burning bright, shining a light over Namjoon’s tan skin that makes him look almost iridescent. When he hears you come into the room, he looks up at you, smiling softly with his pillowy lips and gorgeous dimples. You want to burn this sight into the back of your memory and save it there forever.

Before you can stumble over your words, which you know you absolutely would after seeing Namjoon smiling at you like that, you make your way over to the coffee table to put down the wine and then over to your bookshelf to retrieve the game you had been planning on having him play with you. The box is an unassuming little yellow thing, but you know what’s inside it is what really matters.

“Okay,” you say as you walk back toward the couch, opening the box as you move. “This game is really simple. We go back and forth asking each other questions and answering them. Every question must be asked, but not every question must be answered. If you don’t want to answer a question, you have to look the other person in the eyes for ten seconds before saying, ‘Pass.’ Got it?”

By now, you’re sitting on the only available part of the sofa, right next to Namjoon. You hadn’t realized until now, but as you were explaining the game to him, you had not only sat down next to him, but also put your feet up and sort of shimmied them underneath his legs. Before you even have time for any kind of embarrassment to bloom inside you, though, Namjoon is responding to your explanation with a simple, “Got it,” as he continues to pet your dog next to him.

“Okay, cool,” you say, trying to remain calm. “Do you want to ask first or answer first?” you ask, getting the cards out of the box and setting them on the coffee table where you both can reach them.

“Um… I think I’ll ask first,” Namjoon replies. “I want to know what kinds of questions these are before I have to answer one myself.”

You chuckle at his candor, then sit back against the arm of the sofa and gesture to the pile of cards neatly stacked in front of you both.

“Okay,” Namjoon says with finality in his voice. He reaches toward the table and picks up a card, then reads it to himself.

“Oh, okay,” he says, more to himself than to you. “So they’re like, conversation starters, kind of? Okay, yeah, this is fine.”

You smile slightly at Namjoon’s words, and you wonder what kinds of questions he had originally thought the cards might have held. Before you can ask him, though, he is posing your first question to you.

“What’s a mistake you’ve made that affected your life for the better?” Namjoon reads from the card, sounding almost official in his tone. You can tell that he takes what you’re doing seriously. You would never admit how much that fact is turning you on right now, though.

You think for a moment about how you can best reply to this question. You want to be truthful, of course, but you also want to be interesting and maybe a little mysterious in your response.

When your answer comes to you, you can’t help but smile broadly. Namjoon must notice your excitement, because he smiles back at you just the same.

“I had a summer job once,” you begin. “And to this day I think it was the best job I’ve ever had. I worked as a camp counselor for kids with different disabilities. I basically helped them with all the stuff a camp counselor helps kids with, but I also helped them shower, brush their teeth - stuff like that, you know?”

The man next to you nods in acknowledgement, and you continue.

“So even though it was my favorite job, I got in trouble a couple times for advocating for my campers in a way that wasn’t exactly polite. Eventually I ended up yelling at the camp’s assistant director because I had this firm belief that she didn’t give a shit about the counselors and I got fired for it.”

It’s here that Namjoon’s expression changes from concentration into surprise. His eyebrows shoot up toward his hairline and his jaw even drops slightly. You can tell he wants to ask you something, but he remains quiet in order to let you finish your story. You appreciate that more than you thought you would. Then again, after tonight’s disastrous speed dating experience, you think that Namjoon waiting for you to finish speaking is exactly what you need and deserve.

“The reason I’m grateful for the experience, though,” you say as you near the end of your story, “is that if I had been able to go back the next summer, I wouldn’t have gotten Muffin and I wouldn’t have had her for my last year of school when I was living alone.”

Namjoon turns toward Muffin for a moment, continuing to pet her behind the ears as she snoozes comfortably. He then turns back to you, a questioning look in his eyes.

“Am I allowed to ask any follow-up questions?” he asks with a hint of hesitation in his voice.

“Of course!” you reply easily as you move to stand. “This game is meant to foster conversation, you know? It only makes sense that follow-up questions are allowed. They’re actually encouraged. Oh, do you want anything to eat?”

“Yes please,” Namjoon says with a sigh. “It’s been such a long day.”

“Aw, really?” you say as you start raiding your fridge for leftovers. “How come?”

“Oh, just… work is stressful, family is stressful, dating is stressful. You know, the usual.”

“Wow,” you draw out dramatically. “So you’re saying I’m stressful, huh?” you continue with jest in your voice.

Namjoon sputters, then replies, “No! No, that’s not what I meant at all. I, uh… I just meant that, uh… oh gosh, what did I mean? What did I even say?” He sounds hopelessly confused.

You giggle as you carry the containers of Chinese takeout back toward the living room couch. You give one to Namjoon, who has one hand over his blushing face while he sighs. You then hold your own with both hands to stop yourself from moving Namjoon’s hand away from his face. You won’t admit it to him, but you like that he gets flustered by your words.

“You were saying that dating is stressful and then I made fun of you,” you say matter-of-factly before taking a large bite of lo mein.

Namjoon removes his hand from his face and indignantly whines, “You were just making fun of me? That’s so rude. Here I am thinking you’re actually offended by what I said.” His face is still burning red, and he looks down into his food with a pout. A very cute pout.

To stop Namjoon from getting too far into his own thoughts, you lightly place a hand on his shoulder and say, “I was kidding, you walnut. I know you meant that the speed dating thing was stressful. Believe me, it was the same for me, too.”

Namjoon looks up at you questioningly. “Really?” he says like he doesn’t quite believe you. “It was stressful for someone like you?”

Your heart flutters at his words. You try to keep your voice calm when you say, “Yeah, even for someone like me.”

You squeeze his firm shoulder one time for reassurance and then you let go. Even though you want to touch him in many other places, you don’t want to overwhelm him or scare him away.

You reach toward the table to pick up the next card when you remember something.

“Oh!” you exclaim. “Didn’t you have a follow-up question for me?”

Namjoon, still red in the face but less so than before, looks up toward the ceiling in thought. After a beat, he snaps his fingers and says, “You’re right, I definitely did.”

“Shoot,” you say behind your fork.

“Okay,” Namjoon starts. “You really don’t seem like the type to yell at an authority figure. What made you yell at that director person?”

“Oh,” you say with a quiet chuckle. “You know that MLK quote, “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere?”

Namjoon nods.

“Okay,” you continue. “So basically that’s one of the codes I live by. I don’t get angry very easily, but when it comes to injustice, especially against people who can’t advocate for themselves, I get extremely heated and sometimes I end up lashing out at the people who I believe are letting the injustice occur.”

Namjoon continues to nod throughout your explanation, as if he’s completely fascinated by what you have to say. It honestly feels amazing to have someone just listen to you after the events of this evening.

“That’s really awesome of you to do, even if you did get fired for it. It’s brave,” he says with a look of sincerity on his face.

Now it’s your turn to blush. “Thank you,” you reply simply. “I guess it’s my turn now?”

“Oh yeah. I almost forgot we were doing this,” Namjoon shakes his head as if to clear his thoughts away. “Go ahead.”

You pick up the next card. “Ooh,” you say with a lilt to your voice as you read it. You then glance up to see a curious-looking Namjoon. “I get to fill in my own question.”

“Oh boy,” Namjoon groans as he situates himself next to you on the couch and replaces his food with his wine. “Do your worst.”

The question that has been on your mind since you were at the event earlier overtakes your thoughts once again, leaving little room in your brain for you to come up with any other queries for Namjoon to respond to. You don’t want to waste your question on something so simple, though, so you try to come up with something different but still related.

“I can think of a question, but you don’t have to answer it if it makes you uncomfortable,” you say reassuringly. Namjoon motions his glass toward you in a signal to continue.

“Okay,” you brighten. “What’s it really like being a hybrid?”

“Oh, wow,” Namjoon says right away. “You know, usually people don’t ask me that. They just assume they know the answer already. They think it’s the easiest thing in the world to be a hybrid and that nothing ever goes wrong in my life. I have no idea where they got that from though. Maybe from all the sitcoms about human/hybrid roommates.”

You snort at the thought of people getting their information about hybrids from fictional television shows. You can attest, though, that those same shows do portray hybrid life as somewhat idyllic. You aren’t sure why that’s the case, though, considering the fact that most of your hybrid relatives and friends have shared with you stories about their own personal experiences with discrimination or mistreatment from humans.

“The truth is, though,” Namjoon continues, “that it’s really fucking hard sometimes. And I’m not just talking about dating, although that in itself is a struggle too. It’s just hard trying to live life and never being sure if the people around you think you’re worthy of having, you know, basic human rights. Like for god’s sake, my great-grandparents are old enough that they were kept as pets when they were kids, before the emancipation. That’s only three generations before mine! And there are still humans out there who don’t respect us, who don’t care about us, who use us. It can make a person really bitter after a while.”

Throughout his answer, Namjoon remained completely composed. It was only as he finished his story that his eyes appeared to water slightly. You can only imagine how tired he must be from having to defend his right to exist in the world.

“I’m so sorry that there are humans out there who have treated you and your family so poorly,” you say, your voice empathetic. “I hope that never has to happen to you again.”

Namjoon’s eyes continue to water, but no tears fall. His voice does sound slightly hoarse when he thanks you, though.

“Is it okay if I ask you a follow-up question?” you say cautiously. You still don’t want to make Namjoon uncomfortable.

Namjoon takes a large sip of his wine. “Yeah, it’s okay,” he says after swallowing.

“Okay,” you say, then you take a deep breath and continue. “You said dating was a struggle too. I know we talked about how humans have only wanted to get to know you because you’re a hybrid, but is that the only reason that dating is hard for you?”

Namjoon’s blush returns and intensifies, but he still looks you straight in the eye as he answers your new question.

“Dating is hard because the animal side of me mates for life. So I’ve basically been spending my life looking for one person. I can’t date around like most people can. I choose not to have sex with anyone because I’m afraid I’ll become attached to the wrong person and then I’ll end up alone. It’s really hard trying to be a normal person when the animal side of me has such strong needs.”

You sit next to Namjoon, astounded by what he has just told you. Does this mean that he’ll choose to not become attached to you? Or does everything that has happened tonight mean that he’s serious about you already? And why do you think you’d prefer the second option to be the correct one?

Additionally, does this mean what you think it means for him sexually?

“Have you ever had sex?” you ask before you can stop yourself. You then slap your free hand to your mouth as Namjoon chuckles at you.

“Honestly? I haven’t,” he says somewhat confidently. “Is that going to be a problem?” he continues, now sounding almost like he’s ready to be disappointed.

“What?” No, of course not,” you express earnestly. “That’s, like, the opposite of a problem. There’s nothing wrong with that at all.”

Namjoon looks a little skeptical - which, in this sex-obsessed world, you can understand - but he apparently decides to let it go because he doesn’t say anything else about it. He just picks up the next card from the table and reads it aloud for you.

“What’s a dream from your childhood that you never forgot? Huh, this is a cool one,” he muses after reading the question.

“Ooh, this is a fun one,” you say excitedly. “Let me think… Oh, okay, I got it! I had this recurring dream as a kid that was very odd. So my siblings and I had this little pool with a slide attached to it and we would play in the pool all the time during the summer. In the dream the three of us were sitting at the top of the slide and the slide was trying to fling us over a chain-link fence to where hundreds of dinosaurs were running from a desert scene into a jungle scene.”

By the time you finish your answer, Namjoon is smiling so wide that it looks like he might hurt himself. You start to laugh and you say, “What?! It couldn’t have been that good of a story.”

“It’s not that,” Namjoon says with a laugh. “I think we interpreted this question differently, that’s all.”

“Oh… how so?” you ask, curious and only slightly embarrassed.

“You thought it was talking about a literal dream you had when you were sleeping, and I thought it was talking about a dream you had for the future. I didn’t expect you to tell a story about dinosaurs and an anthropomorphic kiddie pool slide.”

You let out a small snort and begin laughing right alongside Namjoon at your two interpretations of the card.

To cover up your lingering embarrassment, you say, “Well, do you want to hear about a future-related dream I had as a kid?”

Namjoon swirls his wine in his glass and takes another sip. “Yeah, of course,” he says, sounding genuinely interested.

“I wanted to be a hairdresser,” you say with nostalgia in your voice. “I had this big doll head that I would practice on all the time. I thought that knowing how to braid meant that I could do pretty much anything.”

Namjoon laughs along with you.

“But,” you continue, “I think I also wanted to do it because I just really liked the lady who cut my hair when I was little. She was nice, and she always asked how I was doing in school. My mom took us to a barber shop, and I remember they always charged more for girls’ hair than for boys’.

By the time you finish your story, you realize that your eyes had become unfocused and that you were staring off into space. You blink a few times to refocus your gaze, only to find that Namjoon is looking at you almost adoringly. It makes you a little nervous, but you like it all the same.

You drink some more wine. “What is it?” you question when Namjoon doesn’t say anything.

“Oh,” he says, seeming to come out of his own daze in that moment. “It was just a nice story. I like that you told me. I don’t know… I guess it made me feel close to you.”

You look away from Namjoon with a small smile on your face. “Thank you,” you say softly.

Before you give Namjoon a chance to keep talking and possibly make your heart explode in your chest, you quickly pick up the next question card and read it to him.

“What do you think people remember about me?”

Namjoon’s eyebrows raise almost imperceptibly at the question, but just as quickly they return to their normal spots. He appears to think for a moment behind his wine, and then he gives you his answer.

“I think they remember how understanding and thoughtful you are. And your passion. Like how you advocated for your campers. I think they also remember how confident you are. You were so well-spoken back at the bar, like you just didn’t give a shit about what anyone thought. I, uh… I might have watched you a little bit while you were talking to the bartender.”

Your surprise must show on your face, because Namjoon follows up by asking, “What? Did I say the wrong thing?”

“No! No, not at all,” you immediately counter. “I just… didn’t expect you to say that, I guess. Like, I don’t really understand my appeal, so to hear that someone was watching me and then still wanted to get to know me is kind of a lot to take in, that’s all.”

Your confession makes Namjoon’s eyebrows raise again, but this time it’s definitely noticeable.

“Really?” he asks you, disbelief apparent in his tone. “How could someone not want to get to know you after seeing you?”

You feel like you’re shrinking into yourself at all of Namjoon’s compliments. “I have no idea,” is all you can think to say.

Namjoon must notice your sagging shoulders, because he says, “It’s okay, we don’t have to talk about it. Especially if it makes you uncomfortable.”

You can feel yourself physically relax at Namjoon’s comforting words. “Okay,” you say into your wine. “Thank you.”

Namjoon gives your knee a quick pat before he reaches toward the table to pick up the next card.

“What’s your favorite thing about me?” he reads the question, then places the card gently back on the table and looks at you with that same gentleness. It makes you feel safe. You already know your answer, so you’re able to respond quickly.

“The fact that you were so nervous about letting me know you were a hybrid, but that you chose to be honest with me about it anyway,” you say with certainty in your voice. You’re not sure you’ve ever been so certain about anything before now.

“The fact that you respected me enough to tell me the truth about it before you knew anything about me,” you continue. “I mean, for all you knew, I could have been one of those horrible people you talk about that use hybrids and throw them away. You still chose to trust me. It really speaks to your character, I think. I still don’t know why you made that choice, and I’m not going to ask. Just know that I really appreciate it and you.”

Namjoon’s expression is unreadable for a moment, as if he was focusing very much on your answer just now and he didn’t have the capacity to change the way his face looked as you gave your response. Then he smiles at you.

“I know you said you weren’t going to ask, but I can tell you if you want,” he says with a slight sigh. “After the last question, I mean. I don’t want to get sidetracked.”

“Okay,” you say back to him with your own smile. You pick up the next card, eager to get the game done now so you can have your curiosities satisfied. There are no cards underneath the one you pick up.

“Oh, this is the last question,” you announce to the room as Namjoon begins to resituate himself on the couch. You then read the card aloud.

“Look me in the eye and tell me something in silence.”

Namjoon pauses his movements, then he puts his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands as he begins to ponder. His eyebrows are knit together and the corners of his mouth are slightly downturned. He closes his eyes and you take the opportunity to look him up and down. His look of contemplation is a sexy one, and you can’t get over how much you want to run your hands through his inky black hair (and maybe give it a tug).

His shoulders are broad, but not intimidatingly so. Through his fitted button-up shirt, you can tell that he works out. What are intimidating, however, are his thighs. They’re thick and they look like they could rip Namjoon’s pants at any moment. (Not that you would complain.)

Just as you are about to let your fantasies run wild and give in to your urge to touch some part of Namjoon, his eyes open and he announces that he is ready to answer your question. He turns to face you directly, blinks a few times, and then he stares intently into your eyes, as if what he has to tell you is the most important thing he’s said all evening.

Damn, why can’t his answer to this question be a vocal one? You want to know what he has to say so badly. You don’t think you’ve ever had a better conversation with a stranger than you have had with Namjoon. It doesn’t feel like you two are strangers anymore. You find yourself wishing for so much more with him.

Just as you find yourself beginning to lean into Namjoon’s space, hopeful and daring in your movement, Namjoon blinks again and turns his head away from you so that he is facing forward on the couch once more. You can’t say you’re not disappointed as you back up to where you had been.

“Was what you had to say to me important? It felt important,” you say without thinking.

Namjoon’s ears redden immediately. “Um… yeah, it was,” he practically mumbles.

“Was it what you wanted to tell me after the game ended?” you probe further.

“... Yes,” the man beside you says in almost a whisper.

“Do you want to tell me what it was?” you ask, trying and failing to keep the anticipation from your voice. You weakly follow up by saying, “You don’t have to.”

“I want to, but I don’t want to ruin things between us,” Namjoon says, a little louder this time.

“Go ahead,” you urge. You can feel your heartbeat in your ears.

“Okay, um…” Namjoon starts, then looks toward the ceiling. He closes his eyes again before continuing.

“I think you’re supposed to be my mate.”

Now you can feel your heartbeat in your throat. You’re squealing internally because it all makes sense now. You’ve never felt this kind of instant connection with anyone in your life. Sure, you’ve dated people, but only to fulfill some sort of societal expectation that you thought you had to satisfy. Sex and relationships just never appealed to you the way they seemed to appeal to literally everyone else. But now you know why. You’re meant to be this man’s mate. For life. While that fact should probably make you dissolve into a panic right now, all you can feel is peace.

“What does that mean exactly?” you breathe out, not wanting to let your thoughts run any wilder.

Namjoon reaches for your hand. You take it. “It’s the equivalent of two humans deciding to marry, I suppose. It means that we both feel something almost indescribable for each other, even though we just met tonight. We have no desire to part from one another, and we want to spend our lives together. Does that sound right on your end?”

“Yes, that’s right,” you say immediately, not wanting to leave any room for Namjoon to doubt you. “I’ve spent my whole life searching for the feeling I feel with you. It’s amazing and scary and wonderful. I never want to live without this feeling again.”

“Really?” Namjoon says, sounding so hopeful you might cry.

“Really,” you repeat, squeezing Namjoon’s hand as you speak.

“Okay, so… what now?” Namjoon still looks and sounds hopeful, but nervous as well. It’s adorable but you don’t want him to be nervous about what happens next.

“I’m not sure, exactly,” you say slowly. “If it were up to me, we’d probably be in bed already but I don’t really know how you want - or need - to go about doing this.”

It’s only after the words leave your mouth that your brain processes them. You just admitted that you want to sleep with Namjoon. Before you have the chance to take your statement back or even make your face look slightly ashamed, Namjoon is already speaking.

“It can be up to you,” he says, quietly but confidently.

“I didn’t - wait, really?” you respond, admittedly a little surprised by the apparent ease with which Namjoon made such a decision. “What makes you say that?” you probe further, wanting to make sure you’re both making the right choice.

Namjoon looks bashful once more, but he holds his head high and looks at you straight on. “I’ve wanted this since before I even spoke to you for the first time,” he says earnestly. “This has never happened to me before now, and I’m not going to second-guess myself or my feelings for you and potentially let you slip away.”

You smile and turn away from Namjoon’s gentle gaze, and you give his hand another squeeze.

“If you didn’t want to, that wouldn’t make me ‘slip away,’” you say as you turn back to face Namjoon, putting your free hand under his chin. “Remember, I’m not like those other humans who only wanted you for one reason. I’m here to stay, no matter what you choose right now.”

The wetness in Namjoon’s eyes from before returns again, but this time a single tear tracks down his cheek. You wipe it away with your thumb.

“You’re seriously everything I’ve ever wanted, you know that?” he says with a disbelieving laugh. Then he leans in and kisses you.

It starts out slow, and you can tell Namjoon is trying to make it purposeful by the way he cradles your head delicately in his hands and gently slots your lips together without even a hint of tongue. He really cares about you, you think to yourself as your lips move against his. The thought makes you sigh out against his mouth and move your hands to tangle in his hair.

Namjoon appears to take your cue, moving his hands from your head to wrap them tightly around your waist, pulling you flush against his side. The positioning is slightly awkward, what with you both still sitting next to each other on the couch, but you’ve never felt more comfortable kissing someone. It’s sweet and passionate all at once, and it makes you hungry for more.

“So,” you start as you separate to take a breath. You’re both flushed red and Namjoon’s hair is standing up at odd angles from you running your hands through it. You would laugh if you weren’t so turned on. “Where did we land on this being up to me?” you finish, biting your lip to try to hold back your beaming smile.

Namjoon’s eyes zone in on you biting your lip and he licks his own. “Um… yeah, it can be up to you,” he says distractedly, never taking his gaze off your mouth.

You giggle and stand from the sofa, still holding onto Namjoon’s hand as you lead him to your bedroom. Once you step inside the small room together, Namjoon pulls your hand toward himself to turn you around and catches you in another firm kiss. This time, however, he opens his mouth against yours and gently swipes his tongue along your bottom lip.

Your response is immediate, mouth opening against his and eager tongue meeting his own in the middle. You begin exploring each other with lips and tongues and hands as you gradually make your way to the bed in the center of the room.

Just as the backs of your legs hit your plush comforter, you aim to put your hands inside Namjoon’s jacket to push it off his shoulders. He lets you, briefly taking his arms off your waist to let the clothing slide down his arms and hit the floor with a dull thud. Just as you move to pull Namjoon onto the bed with you, though, you remember what he had hidden beneath that jacket.

You quickly pull away from Namjoon’s kiss, opening your eyes and breathily saying, “Would now be a bad time to ask you what kind of hybrid you are?”

Namjoon chuckles, lets go of your waist once again, and turns around so his back faces you directly.

There are two masses of feathers on Namjoon’s back, right where his shoulder blades reside. They rise from there to the tops of his shoulders and then dip down to his waist. You’re already shocked by the fact that he managed to keep them hidden from you the entire time you’ve been together, when something amazing occurs.

The masses of black feathers begin to shuffle in front of your eyes, and suddenly Namjoon’s wings are stretching out to their full size, taking up so much space that you’re sure their tops will hit your low ceiling. It’s nothing short of majestic.

The wings, the hair, the lips, the fact that Namjoon said he mates for life...

“You’re a swan,” you say with complete awe in your voice. Namjoon’s feathers ruffle cutely.

Swan hybrids are incredibly rare. So rare, in fact, that many people say they no longer exist. This reveal was truly the last thing you had expected to happen tonight, but you welcome it all the same. You want Namjoon for Namjoon, not for what kind of hybrid he is.

When Namjoon doesn’t say anything else, you continue. “You’re beautiful, you know that?” you say as sincerely as you can. It’s true, after all. Namjoon is beautiful.

“Thank you,” he replies to the wall in front of you, as he has yet to turn around and face you again. You giggle and put a hand on his shoulder, urging him to turn back around. As he does, he retracts his wings back toward his body, but one of them still brushes against you. It’s possibly the softest thing you’ve ever felt and it makes you shiver with desire for the man in front of you. You want the feathers to touch you again and again, but you don’t want it to be accidental. You want Namjoon to do it purposely.

“Wow,” is all you can say before Namjoon crowds into your space once more to get back to kissing you, his hands once again gripping your waist like it’s his favorite part of you. You’re thankful that you don’t have to think of anything else to say to him because it probably wouldn’t make sense anyway. All you can really think about is his feathers on your skin as he begins kissing down your neck with more intensity than he displayed before.

You let out a small moan when Namjoon laves his tongue over the spot right above your collarbone, and in response Namjoon pushes you against the bed, making you fall onto the covers with him following closely behind.

Namjoon immediately settles a knee between your thighs, close enough that you can sense his presence but far enough away that you can’t get any kind of friction or relief. You wonder if he meant to do that. He continues to kiss you fervently, licking and sucking at your neck as he begins to move a hand underneath your shirt and up your stomach. You arch your back slightly into his touch and let out another soft moan to tell him that he can continue his movements.

Namjoon slowly inches his way up your stomach to cup your breast, still hidden within the confines of your bra. He massages your nipple through the material, which both excites and frustrates you simultaneously. He’s so close to you in so many ways, but so far away all the same. You want nothing more than to be naked under Namjoon in this moment, to be as close to him as you can be.

You tug slightly on Namjoon’s hair to get him to pause his ministrations and look up at you. When he does, you notice his already-cherry lips are even redder now from kissing you. You completely forget what you were going to say to him, and instead you simply grab his head with both hands and bring him back up to your level so you can kiss him some more.

As you continue to kiss and Namjoon continues to massage one of your nipples, you move your hands down his body and to his belt loops. He gasps slightly into your mouth but doesn’t stop you, and you continue toward his belt, undoing it with ease and slipping it off his body. It joins his jacket on the floor, and the thought of having the rest of Namjoon’s clothes end up there as well only serves to make you wetter than all this kissing has already made you.

The man above you appears to take your cue again, this time moving his hand to the top of your bra, where he pulls it down just enough to expose your breast to his hand. He goes back to massaging your now-free nipple, and the difference in feeling has you arching into his touch once more.

As you move your hands toward Namjoon’s zipper, you stop kissing him just long enough to say, “Take my shirt off.”

He squeezes your breast in his hand before leaning up slightly to grab the hem of your shirt with his other hand and bring it up over your head. He then comes back down to kiss at your newly exposed skin, but not before he gets a good look at your erect nipple that he’s been teasing for what feels like years.

Now that he’s occupied by your chest, you take the opportunity to undo Namjoon’s zipper and slip your hand inside his pants. He seems to be very affected by your movements, as he pauses his and leans up again to focus on what you’re doing to him.

“Is this okay?” you check in with Namjoon, wanting him to be comfortable with what is likely his first sexual experience with another person.

“Yes,” Namjoon breathes out into your chest, making you shiver as goosebumps rise on your skin. “Please keep going.”

You give a small peck to Namjoon’s neck before you continue moving your hand into his pants, grabbing onto his hard cock that’s still within the confines of his underwear. Now it’s your turn to tease him over his clothes.

You rub the length of Namjoon’s cock back and forth, purposely avoiding the head, where you know he needs your touch the most. He moans and drops his head to your chest, beginning to thrust slightly into your palm.

“Fuck,” he whines, clearly frustrated with your decision not to satisfy him completely.

“Yes, lovebird?” you say softly as you continue to rub and squeeze at his shaft.

“Not… enough,” Namjoon pants. His feathers ruffle again above you, and you wonder if it was due to your use of the pet name. You decide to keep that in mind and ask him about it later.

“Okay,” you give in easily, and move to rub your thumb in circles around Namjoon’s cockhead. It’s wet there, even over his underwear, just as you hoped it would be. Namjoon cries out softly and grabs onto your shoulders with both hands, which only turns you on even more and makes you moan wantonly.

Namjoon must notice that he has stopped teasing you (or touching you sexually in any way, really), because he soon goes back to grabbing at your exposed breast and kissing down your chest. He eventually brings his mouth down to your nipple and wraps his plush lips around the sensitive bud, making you sigh out and push your free hand back into his hair like you did earlier.

Namjoon sucks on your nipple with just enough force that you can feel your neglected clit practically vibrate with need. You continue to rub your thumb on Namjoon’s still-weeping head, and it must be enough to make him want things to move along, because he starts moving his hands from your shoulders down your arms, back toward your waist, and to the hem of your own pants. This is where he hesitates slightly.

He begins moving his fingers gently back and forth along the soft material of your pant hem, then stops just as soon as he started. His mouth leaves your breast with a soft kiss as he lifts his head from your chest to look at you. You’re already watching him, having paused your movements in his slacks as well. You want to ask if everything is alright, but he beats you to it, and calms you down immediately.

“Is this okay with you?” he asks innocently, gently dipping two fingers inside the hem of your pants, not even touching you where you need it most yet. Your response is involuntary anyway. You moan slightly, buck your hips upward toward Namjoon’s own pelvis and lean your head back into your plush comforter. Namjoon turns bright red.

Noticing Namjoon’s expression of shock, you put a hand to his warm cheek and say, “It’s okay, lovebird.” (There go those feathers again.) “I’m just really sensitive. And really wet.”

“Oh,” is all Namjoon can manage to get out at that information, and you giggle. “Is, uh… is that a good thing?” he says without looking at you. He’s still focused on playing with the hem of your pants.

You scoot over slightly on the bed so Namjoon can lay down next to you. Then you take the hand toying with your pant hem and slowly push it down inside your clothes, all the way to where you’re soaked for him.

You watch as his expression morphs from one of trepidation to one of pure elation and lust and love. He begins moving his fingers around in your ocean, eventually finding your swollen bud and staying there when you cry out softly at his touch and grip his arm tightly.

You’re whimpering at Namjoon’s gentle movements, but you’re still able to get back to touching him, this time without his own underwear as a barrier. You can feel a vein in his cock practically throbbing with need for you, and his head is still wet with precum when you graze it with your thumb.

His response to you touching him now is to buck into your hand slightly while he simultaneously applies more pressure to your clit than before. The fact that you’re pleasuring each other so effortlessly after just having met a few hours before should be scandalizing to you, but it feels so right. It feels meant to be.

You’re lost in your bliss, thinking about everything and nothing all at once. Namjoon is touching you so purposefully, but not aggressively, and you look up at him briefly to see his eyes closed and his plush lips red as cherries from all your kisses. He’s concentrating on your pleasure just as much as his own and it makes you practically gush for him.

Namjoon suddenly moans out an “oh, fuck,” and opens his eyes questioningly at you without ever stopping his movements around your pussy.

“Did you just get even wetter?” he asks with a hint of pride in his voice.

“Mhm,” you respond in a moan, head thrown back onto your pillow and hand gripping Namjoon’s arm so tightly that it’s going a bit numb.

Namjoon briefly takes his hand out of your pants to taste you on his fingers, and he shudders when he licks you off of him.

“Damn,” he mutters, getting your attention. “You taste amazing.”

Without missing a beat, you open your mouth and stick out your tongue, inviting Namjoon to put one of his fingers into your own mouth so you can taste yourself. You lick your juices from his finger but keep going, almost deep-throating it, which makes him hiss and remove it just to give you the most intense kiss he has so far this evening.

Namjoon then proceeds to move down the bed again, taking your pants and your underwear with him and dropping them to the floor with his clothes. You’re laid bare in front of him, save for your bra that is half-removed from your chest anyway. As Namjoon looks you up and down, you begin playing with yourself so he can watch you, which you can immediately tell he is enjoying. His cock is still straining against his slacks and you want to see it for yourself.

“You want more?” you say sultrily up at him. He nods as he rubs himself over his clothes, seemingly unable to help himself as he drinks you in. You move a finger on your free hand in a “come hither” motion and he obeys, crawling up in between your legs again so he’s just over you.

Without saying anything else, you make quick work of the buttons on his shirt, letting him take over and bring it off of his broad shoulders and down his back so you don’t harm his wings in the process of getting him naked.

You expected the shirt removal process to be a bit of a struggle for him, what with how large his wings are. However, he makes it look easy by shimmying his wings through the shirt’s designated slits and letting it fall to the floor behind him. He only loses one feather.

You immediately get to work on his pants, pulling them down over his hips and down to his knees. You do the same with his boxers, putting your hands inside over his ass to push them down. He manages to kick them both off of his legs rather gracefully, and he’s suddenly as naked as you are. He’s still drinking you in, so he doesn’t really notice when you move to grab his lost feather from the edge of your bed.

You toy with the feather in your hands for a brief moment before voicing your thought from earlier. Your voice seems to ground Namjoon back into the present moment, because he refocuses and his eyes lose the slight glaze they had taken on a moment ago.

“Will you use this on me?” you ask outright, without any attempt to be coy.

“Of course,” Namjoon immediately replies. Then he follows up with, “Use it how?”

You giggle slightly at his willingness to please you then say, “Like how people do feather play. You know what that is?”

“I’m sure I can figure it out,” Namjoon says with a soft smile. “Close your eyes.”

You do as you’re told and you feel Namjoon take the feather from your hand. Your heart rate speeds up in anticipation for what’s to come and you’re so tempted to open your eyes that you wish you had a blindfold on.

The feeling of the feather touching your ankle makes you gasp, and the feeling of it traveling up your leg makes you squirm. You hear a soft chuckle followed by the words, “Is this what you wanted?”

“Yes,” you breathe out as the feather continues to move up your body, now caressing your hip, then your waist, then your chest, then your neck. You shiver as it makes contact with each new body part.

You can hardly contain your arousal when Namjoon suddenly moves the feather off of your neck completely. You’re about to open your eyes because you think he is finished teasing you, when you feel something tickle your mound. It’s the softest of touches, and you realize he’s going to tease your pussy with this feather. He really knows what he’s doing, you think to yourself as you continue to squirm at the light touches. The feather makes its way over your mound and down past your clit and then it’s on one thigh, then the other, and just as you think that you might come completely untouched, the feather is replaced by a mouth.

Namjoon is devouring your thighs one at a time, and then without warning he grabs hold of your clit with his lips and starts to suck. You cry out and tangle your hands back in his hair, pushing him closer to you and urging him to lick and suck you harder.

Namjoon seems to understand that you need more, because he quickly brings two fingers up to your pussy and swirls them around in your wetness before easily slipping them inside you. He continues to suck your clit as he pushes those two fingers into you as deep as they can go, then he pushes upwards.

Your scream of elation is enough to let Namjoon know you’ve just orgasmed, but he doesn’t seem to want to stop there. He continues pushing his fingers up against your wet walls until you’re coming a second time, shaking so violently that Namjoon has to stop what he’s been doing and come up to hold you for a brief moment.

“Are you okay?” he asks as he notices your breathing start to even out. You nod, not sure if you’re currently capable of speech.

“Are you done?” he asks his second question with what sounds like a hint of disappointment already in his voice. You shake your head.

“No,” you manage to get out. “No, I’m not done. I can come multiple times and keep going, I promise.”

Namjoon looks at you like you just told him Christmas was coming early this year. He kisses your forehead as you giggle.

You clear your throat and ask huskily, “You ready for more?”

Namjoon nods again and you bring him on top of you, and without any further hesitation you grab his cock back into your hand and begin stroking it again. After a few strokes, you lean up and whisper into Namjoon’s ear.

“Lovebird, I want you.”

You hear the rustle of feathers and all of a sudden Namjoon’s cock is stretching your walls wide and you’re crying out again and Namjoon is grunting and you’re looking at each other while he fucks you. You’ve never felt so close to another person in your entire life. The feeling of Namjoon inside you is like nothing you’ve ever experienced. The thought makes you clench, already on the verge of another orgasm.

Namjoon fucks into you rhythmically, his pace steady but quick and his eyes full of love for you. He finds your hands and holds them tightly above your head, and he brings his lips down to meet yours in a gentle kiss.

You feel yourself reaching the peak once more and you warn Namjoon of your imminent orgasm. He thrusts even more intensely into you and you come undone around him, clenching his cock so forcefully that he comes involuntarily with a gasp. As he fills you up, you hear him mumble something you can’t quite make out.

“What did you say, Lovebird?” you ask sweetly.

“I said, ‘I love you,’” he repeats, this time more firmly and with more conviction. You don’t miss the ruffle of his feathers above you.

You smile. “For life, right?”

He smiles back. “Yeah. For life.”

#the hybrid collab #Namjoon x reader #Namjoon smut #Namjoon fanfiction

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roleplay-today · 4 months

Note

My apologies to the mods if this has already been sent, I've been having issues with both tumblr and my Internet lately. Hey there! 26F looking for some roleplays with +20 people!

- Quality> Quantity. I tend to mirror posts but I’m realistic, when it comes to some scenes posts tend to get shorter (like when we’re in a dialogue heavy one). I don’t need novella-length posts.

- Doubling is a must. I like to play both Canon and OCs, what kind of combinations depends on the fandom.

- MxF (playing both genders) is what I'm looking for in mains, although I have my occasional FxF and MxM pairings too, I’m coming back to these pairings after a long time. AGED UP IS A MUST. Unless my partner and I decide to not have any real romance until characters are of age, 18yo will be the minimum age of the characters.

- I like OOC chit chat, sharing all our memes, silly headcanons… I won’t pressure you for replies.

Now, the fandoms!

Percy Jackson OCxOC: I’ve watched the movies (I know, I know) and my roommate will lend me the books when she can. Haven’t watched the show yet.

I can only really do OCxOC here, and although I have some random knowledge about the books due to having a best friend obsessed with them, consider me very noob-ish and be ready to get flexible. Perhaps, what I’m searching for is more of a Percy based RP.

The Chronicles of Narnia CanonxOC: Watched all the movies, and although I'm a fan of playing things from the beginning and building up some past scenes with our own characters included, I'm also up for something starting during the years they ruled over Narnia or during the Caspian times. We could come up with our own prophecies and make it original-esque even.

Canon I'd love to play as: Peter, Susan (open to FxF) - I'm not interested in playing Caspian rn, sorry

Canon I'm looking for: Edmund.

Spiderverse CanonxOC: Watched both movies, too much fan content and theories, bought figurines... I've always been a Spiderman fan and I'm having the time of my life with people loving the Spiderverse. Also, I'm finally getting into the comics. I'm open to ALTERNATIVE versions of these characters, bring me the originality of this fandom. I also prefer if my partner's OC has some kind of power or is at least included in the hero/anti-hero dynamic, since it makes it easier to move the plot along. Venom, prowler... variants are welcomed too! I have a few of my own hahahaha. Also we don't need to follow the canon story, we can come up with our own instead, or follow the story and continue it as we see fit. I wouldn't mind trying out Gwen on a F// pairing.

Canons I'd love to play as: Miles, Miles 42, Gwen, Pavitr - I'm aware of the trans Gwen headcanon, but I'm afraid that I play her as a cis woman.

Canons I'm looking for: Hobie and Miles 42

Avatar - CanonxOC OCxOC As in Cameron's avatar.

I'm leaning more towards a Way of Water roleplay, either following the canon or doing a similar story to the first movie but with the Metkayina. But I'm open to other plots, even only with the Omaticaya clan and the forest biome.

I'm open to CanonxOC and OCxOC, but take into account that the Na'vi that I will be open to play will be the younger generation (as in Lo'ak, Neteyam, Rotxo, maybe Ao'nung, Tsireya, Kiri - both open for FxF -...) aged up.

Trolls CanonxOC, CanonxCanon: Yes, as in dreamworks trolls. Sorry the third move has me confused about how much I’ve liked it.

I’m searching for a comfort roleplay. In which, yes, we can explore drama and darker adventures than the original source, but I’m also craving the silliness and fluffiness of this fandom, the different hc and what ifs. I’ve seen very interesting ideas online already, I’ve even started to draw again! Trolls are giving all the happy chemicals to my brain.

In this fandom I’d like to do CanonxOC and CanonxCanon in terms of pairings, but I'm open to some OCxOC on the side.

Just a note, the characters I’m open to play are mainly the Brozone gang, Viva and perhaps other characters appearing in the third movie, and some from the second or first.

Thanks for reading and please send me a DM if you’re interested or have any questions!

#roleplay request

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darklydeliciousdesires · 2 years

Text

Not One of Many - Chapter Eighteen.

I am thrilled by the response to this story and thank each and every one of you for your commitment to reading it :) you are all beautiful people!

Previous chapters - Prologue One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen Seventeen

Tag list - In the comments

Words - 3,119

Warnings - 18+ content, adult audience only. Minors DNI!

“I lived in the suburb of Millsborough in Kingston until I was ten, which was when my mother and father relocated to the UK, my father garnering a coveted spot at chambers not far from where I am currently resided.”

Beth was knee deep in getting to know you chit chat with Marcus and Steve, the former detailing of his rise through the world of investment, a businessman like Alfie, except Marcus bought up companies on the brink of bankruptcy for a steal, and turned them back into multi-million-pound corporations. She also learned that it was just another part of Alfie’s lucrative investment portfolio, that he owned a considerable wedge in shares for a good number of them.

As she sipped her drink, it was now Steve who was explaining his own roots to her, his life always immersed in the legal system, naturally since both of his parents came from such a background.

“And what do you specialise in?” She asked with curiosity.

“As a seasoned barrister, I like to think I can turn my hand to most areas of law, but I specialise in criminal defence and immigration law.”

“Have you fought any cases I might have heard within the media?” Steve loved her inquisitiveness, the very ethos of a talented journalist one might say, but he knew Beth was asking for her own curiousness in wanting to get to know Alfie’s friends better.

The only other of his girlfriends whom he’d met who even had a flicker of interest over what he did had been dear, sweet little Mimi, albeit most of his explanations sailing over straight over her head. Her grasp of mathematics had impressed him hugely, though. He’d never seen anyone work through a Sudoku puzzle at such a speed, and she’d never made a miscalculation either. One whom he hadn’t cared for at all was still propping up the bar, her cackle audible over just about anything else. He detested when women tried too hard, especially those who were beginning to become sloppily drunk, as Talia was. All in an effort to show a man who couldn’t care less how well she was doing without him.

“It is very likely, yes, Beth. I recently successfully fought for twenty people who became embroiled in the fallout of the Windrush scandal to remain in the UK. A hard slog, four years of back and forth and moments where I thought I would not succeed, but my effort prevailed, them and their families being granted the right to remain.”

“Oh, that’s absolutely fantastic! Yes, I do remember now, well, the broader of the entire Windrush debacle, I do. My pal Kinga covered a lot of it,” she revealed, Steve’s eyes widening.

“Kinga Clarke?”

“Yes, don’t tell me that you know her?”

He clapped his hands together, laughing with mirth. “Oh, Kinga and I go way back! We were at the same boarding school, albeit her three years below me. We meet up whenever our schedules allow. She’s a bloody good egg, that girl. We must meet up again and you bring her along, I haven’t seen her in about eight months, it’d be splendid to catch up!”

She agreed such was a fantastic idea, Alfie too.

“Yeah, I wanna make a point to get to know your friends, darlin’. Set something up and we’ll do it soon. I’m looking forward to seeing them all tomorrow though, it has to be said.” He referred there to the ELLE magazine party, Magda managing to squeeze him onto the guestlist as well. Fashion parties weren’t really his scene, but he’d go anywhere Beth required him to. Anything to spend time with his beloved.

It was while the lady herself was enthralling his friends with the same wit and charisma that had hooked him in the first place that he glanced in the direction of the bar, seeing his ex-girlfriend continuing in the pursuit of making a fool of herself. Screaming with laughter, hanging off men’s necks, having them buy her drinks and showing off to her friends. God, she’d become so messy. Their breakup had sent her into a tailspin, it seemed, the usually elegant woman who respected herself much more than the behaviour he was witnessing gone from her entirely.

“It’s sad, isn’t it? But don’t let her get to you. She’s vying for your attention, but I have no idea who on earth she thinks she’s fooling with the grandiose ‘I’m having such a good time without you’ routine. It smacks of desperation,” Beth spoke, leaning close to him, Steve and Marcus discussing something the latter was displaying on his phone.

He was about to reply, Talia catching his eye and lifting both her middle fingers in his direction, Alfie feeling his temper shoot up sharply, his forehead creasing.

“Hey, hey,” Beth began, turning his face to hers. “Don’t let her wind you up.”

“She’s fuckin’ disrespecting me in my own fuckin’ bar though, baby.”

She stroked his arm, trying to de-escalate his rising ire. “I know, I know, but she’s looking for a reaction. Show her none and you have the upper hand, don’t you? Come on, gorgeous. No more of these, no more of the Solomons crinkles.”

He paused, raising an eyebrow. “The what?”

“When you frown and your forehead crinkles. Those are the Solomons crinkles!”

“I’ll be giving you the Drake smacked arse if I have any more like that out of you, young lady!”

“Why? I love them! Except for now, because some silly twat is pissing you off.”

“You’re inferring I need botox in me ‘ead!”

She gasped, smacking his arm. “I inferred no such thing!”

His frown deepened, Beth moving to kiss his forehead. “Don’t you try and sweeten me now, treacle, oh no! Damage has been done!”

“Shhh.” She kissed him into silence, poking his frown lines. “Solomons crinkles.” She then added in a voice so cute, he couldn’t help but smile at her.

“That cuteness gets around me every bloody time. You women, you wield so many weapons.”

She beamed; her grin huge. “I quite agree! Now, give me kisses.” He obliged, his hand stroking her thigh while the other clasped her hand. She knew how to bring him back down from anger in an instant, which was no easy feat. She knew him better after only a few months and just shy of one month actually in a relationship than Talia had for the entire year he’d been with her. Then again, she paid attention to him and the person he was beyond his body and his bank balance, as Alfie was slowly coming to realise. If he scrutinised it, no matter how uncomfortable it made him feel, those were at the top of Talia’s list for her where dating him had been concerned.

“Good bloody heavens! That’s the third man she’s welded herself to at the mouth! Reminds me of one of those little algae eating fish that people who keep tanks have to suck all the algae from the glass!” Steve exclaimed, turning back to the table, shaking his head as he re-tied his long, thick dreadlocks, Alfie and Marcus in hysterics. Beth would have been, except her eyes were on Talia, watching as she suddenly came steaming through the crowd, hurling herself at the roped off section, the glass she held launched, missing Beth’s leg by a fraction.

“You fucking cunt! You stole my boyfriend!” she screamed, Alfie out of his seat in second, the two nearby bouncers hanging back but remaining alert for further instruction from their boss.

“You don’t throw anything at her, you hear me? You don’t ever fuckin’ come near her, yeah?” he spoke sternly, Talia crinkling her nose in disgust.

“He finished with me, for that devious little slag over there, you know! I mean, he let this go, for that!” she then shouted at a group of people at a table within the VIP, gesturing to herself and then Beth, everyone witnessing it thinking the same thing. They didn’t blame him at all if her claims had been the case. “I want to talk to you, Alfie.”

“You’ve got fuck all I wanna hear, Talia.”

“Then I want to talk to your bitch girlfriend!”

He nodded at Paul and Rhonda, the pair moving forward to take her arms and behind towing her in the direction of the door.

“You don’t ever fuckin’ come near her.” he repeated sternly. “Make sure she don’t come back in. Not now or ever. She’s barred. Permanently.” His doormen nodded, Talia thrashing so wildly that Rhonda was given no choice but to fully body hug her to get her out of there, Paul clearing patrons out of the way, Talia still screaming. “Right, now she’s dealt with, another round?” he asked, arriving back at the table, his friends and Beth looking stunned.

“I feel like going to stick my head directly under the optics after witnessing that,” Marcus exclaimed, his eyes wide as he drained the last of his Courvoisier, Alfie beckoning one of the bar staff over to take the orders.

“You alright, duchess?” he asked, taking a seat again, his hand smoothing down her thigh.

“I’m fine, the glass didn’t hit me and her words failed to hit the mark as well. It takes more than a silly, drunken mess to dent me. How about you?”

He frowned, his eyebrows then fluttering up, sipping his drink. “I’m sitting here kicking myself that I spent a year with that mess.”

“In your defence, she wasn’t a mess when you were with her, though,” Beth reasoned, her eye caught by the sight outside, the doorwoman repeatedly having to push Talia away from attempting to gain entrance again, before unsurprisingly, she turned to vomit all over the pavement.

“Whatever she was, she still ain’t a patch on you, baby beast.” He kissed her softly, nuzzling her cheek.

“Baby beast?” Marcus asked, pointing at Beth. “Why?”

Alfie grinned, undoing a couple of the buttons of his white shirt, revealing a fraction of the portrait Beth had painted with her lust upon his chest. “That’s why.”

“Bloody hell!” his friends both chorused at once, wincing, giving Beth looks of disbelief.

She shrugged, nonchalant. “He likes it.”

“Oh, love, we know what he’s like. When we were twenty-two, we went to Ibiza for a fortnight. First night there, some bird came over with a bullwhip and cracked him straight over the back with it. His response was to shoulder lift her out of the club, take her back to his hotel room and shag the hell out of her for the rest of the night. His back looked like the road map of Great Britain after she was finished with him!” Marcus revealed, sending Beth into hysterics, glad she’d paused from taking a sip of her cocktail.

Their night was fantastic from there on in, arriving back at Alfie’s at just gone 2am, but not falling asleep until 4am. The following morning, he got up to let Cyril out, ordering them breakfast to be delivered from the best kosher deli nearby, salmon and cream cheese toasted bagels and two portions of matzo brei on their way, brewing some coffee and taking it back upstairs.

“You stay right there, let’s have a lie in,” he spoke as Beth sat up, reaching for her cappuccino.

“What time is it?”

“Only half eight.”

“Are you just getting back up here from a workout?”

“Nah, love. I did my cardio in the early hours.” He certainly had, too. “I’m giving myself a day off for anything that doesn’t involve spending time with you.”

That surprised her, that he was content to just relax. She had nothing on all day and had planned to just chill out there regardless of his plans, rather than heading back to her flat, so having his presence was nice. He worked much too hard and needed to take more time for himself. “Oh, I ordered brekkie too, so we’re all sorted to sit here and do fuck all.”

That suited her down to the ground. A rare Saturday of doing absolutely nothing at all other than moving location to the cinema room to continue watching documentaries together while they ate, shower fresh and dressed in comfy clothes, Beth buried in a pair of his loaned sweatpants. He’d had her in hysterics already by saying they looked like MC Hammer trousers on her.

In the end, the fact they’d only slept for four and a half hours took its toll, both cuddling up with one another for a nap, Beth lying against his chest, pondering for a few moments before she fell asleep. It was so easy with him, how comfortable she was already, unguarded and totally relaxed around him. Usually in a new relationship, she wouldn’t let herself slip in ways like letting him see her without makeup on, or having a wee in front of him, silly little things like that. That morning she’d run into the bathroom to go to the toilet and not batted an eyelid when Alfie had come in to brush his teeth while she was mid-tinkle.

He was so easy going, their vibe together meshed perfectly. The only thing about him that irritated her slightly was his refusal to let her pay for anything, but she knew if it became more of an issue, she could approach such with him through discussion. It wasn’t something that came easily to him, not being a provider, generous as he was with his earnings.

Kissing his chest, she closed her eyes, her impending slumber only disturbed by Cyril jumping up to position himself within the gap in their entanglement of legs, resting his head on her leg, Beth scratching his shoulder with her foot before falling asleep. Once they had awoken again, the leisurely pace of their day was put on the back burner a little, Alfie decreeing that he needed a workout, feeling odd for not hitting the gym, while Beth sat out in the shade of the garden, finishing off one of her three articles she was currently working on.

“And look at that, big C. I’m all done. Would you like to go for a walk?” At hearing the W word, the bullmastiff lifted his head, his ears pricked. “Shall we go find your dad, hmm? Where’s dad?” The dog heaved himself up, trotting into the house, following Alfie’s scent until he found him, gulping back a protein shake in the kitchen, wrapped in a towel. “Someone wants to go for a w-a-l-k.”

“Yeah, you wanna go the park, lad?” Alfie questioned, Cyril jumping around and barking. “I think that’s a yes. Let me just go get me gear on and I’ll be back.”

“How was your workout?” she asked, just as he was about to leave the kitchen.

“Fuckin’ painful, treacle. Worth it, though. Look at them!” Flexing his biceps, he grinned, Beth virtually swooning. The muscles on him. He was so thick and sexy. Dressed in just a towel and he made her pulse flip, but suited Alfie was where it was at for her. That night, he chose a dark olive-green suit and waistcoat, with a black shirt, the buttons undone a little casually, complimenting her dress beautifully. She'd decided to go with her favourite Matthew Williamson maxi dress, the earthy hues and abstract pattern perfect, dressing it up with a few pieces of nice jewellery, pinning her hair up save a few wispy strands here and there.

They arrived at the rooftop location of the party an hour later, fabulous people everywhere, a few acquaintances stopping to say hello to Beth, until she spied one of her own fabulous people and made a beeline across the party for her.

“Babe, you look a bloody treat. Come here, give us a little smooch!” Magda welcomed her with, air kissing her cheek to avoid her trademark bright red, Chanel painted lips printing Beth’s cheek. “Alfie, you look like sex on legs as usual.” Magda’s attest made him laugh, kissing her cheek, being swiftly introduced to Dennis.

“So, I hear you’re in the classic car business?” That was it, their men were lost to conversation over all things automotive, Beth taking a champagne flute from the passing tray, Magda smiling warmly.

“Now, what’s all this I hear about a very lucky young lady getting her first Birkin, then?”

Confused, Beth wondered what she’d missed there, knowing she’d yet to reveal such to her bestie. “How did you know?”

Magda jerked her head in Alfie’s direction. “Your fella here phoned me at work and asked which one it was that you wanted. Ain’t he lush, ay? He’d said he was looking to get you the red one, but I said to him, ‘no, no, sunshine! Dark blue, that’s the one she’s in love with!’ and now there you go, you have it, and I’m only a tiny bit envious!” That revelation touched Beth deeply, that he’d been so concerned in getting the correct one she’d wanted, he’d called her best friend for advice.

They chatted for a while longer as a two, having a little schmooze with other guests here and there before they were joined then by Kinga and Oliver after an hour, the latter with his mouth full of canapes, wiping away crumbs before he gave Beth a kiss, Kinga moving in for a little air smooch as well.

“I met someone last night who knows you!” she exclaimed, Kinga’s eyes widening. “Steve Barklay.”

“Barkie! Oh my lord, how is he?” she cried, clapping her hands together with mirth.

“He’s really well, spoke nothing but very highly of you and suggested we all go out as a group soon.” Kinga nodded vigorously at the prospect, Beth then detailing the events of the rest of the evening to them, Talia and her drunken, glass throwing, abuse hurling antics.

“Jesus bloody wept! What a flippin’ state!” Magda exclaimed, shocked. “I would have thrown a pissin’ table at her, had I seen her launch anything in your direction.”

Beth cooed at her bestie’s fiery protective streak, giving her a little one-armed hug, Kinga and Oliver exchanging sudden curious glances with each other. “Darling, this Talia girl. I don’t suppose she’s a redhead with a, I’m unsure what it is fully, but has a tattoo containing leaves on her back?” the latter questioned, Beth feeling her heart somersault.

“Yes, that’s her. Why’d you ask?”

“Because she was trying to gain entry to the party just as we were arriving.”

Hearing that Alfie's ex-girlfriend had moved on from glass throwing and abuse hurling to following them was news Beth didn’t particularly relish in learning that evening.

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