#the first panel... so tall and handsome

[meownotgood]

every time I see manga aki I want to explode. like. he's so sexy

[charliemwrites]

There are men across the street.

The house (and you use the term generously) that slumps there has been vacant for some time now. Ever since you moved in a couple years ago, actually. It’s an eyesore for sure. Graffiti on the walls, boards on the windows, a basketball-sized hole in the roof. The porch is the worst of it. Sagging in the middle and crumbling on the ends, stripped and moss-encrusted wood.

But today there are men there, stomping up and down the groaning steps in big, steel-toed boots.

You watch for a bit from the safety of your kitchen window, sipping coffee and batting your cat off the counter. They don’t look like a normal construction crew - wearing all black and not so much as a hammer on their belts. Three of them that you can see, one about average height, one tall, and one very tall. The tall one tags after the shortest of them often, gets pushed and shoved and snapped at it seems like.

You lose interest when the coffee runs out and your phone chimes, shooing you off to the grocery store. All three have disappeared inside by the time you saunter out, keys jingling and reusable bags in hand.

Margot says they’re renovating - likely some rich man’s retirement project. The same thing happened just down the street six months before you moved in, and now Joe has solar panels.

She postulates over the situation across the street while taking delicate bites of the cheesecake she brought over. (A test recipe for her niece’s baby shower in a few weeks. You don’t tell her that it’s too sweet and just sip your tea between bites.) She hypothesizes that one of them is this hypothetical rich man’s son, bringing some handy friends around for extra hands to work.

It sounds about as plausible as Agatha’s mutterings that they’re drug lords, so you nod along and watch your calico sneak up on your tuxedo behind her.

The garden is your own little retirement project. (You’re not actually retired, no matter what your sister snipes. But some smart money moves and a successful writing career is virtually the same with no kids and no spouse.) It’s going about as well as the renovations across the street - which is say, better and quicker than expected.

You planted clover in the yard, and are working on wildflowers in the boxes. The clover is already blooming, little flower tufts springing up for bumblebees to perch on. The wildflowers are mixed success so far, but nothing is dead yet.

You mostly just tootle around to be outside - allotted sunshine lest you become the shut in Bertram accused you of your first couple months.

The cats watch you pick at weeds from the window. Or two of them do. The other one is glaring from the fridge, angry that you tossed her back inside when she tried to slip past your ankles. (With any luck, you’ll have another sibling for them soon, but the handsome orange thing that keeps coming by at dawn and dusk is too stupid to be caught.) All three of them shift to look at something over your shoulder.

“Excuse.”

You don’t startle, thankfully. The voice may be unfamiliar, but neighbors stop by consistently enough that you’re not surprised to have your solitude interrupted.

What you are surprised by is the tall (very, very tall) man standing at the edge of your front yard. One of the renovators.

“Hi,” you say, straightening.

He points a gloved finger at you - no, not at you. Past you. At your cats.

“May I see them?” He asks in a thick German accent.

You blink, surprised and confused.

He’s a big man. Not just unusually tall, but broad as well. Muscle tugs at the fabric of his shirt, cargo pants clinging to his thighs. He also hasn’t bothered to take off the heavy duty dust mask, black sunglasses, or jacket hood obscuring his features. Looks like he’s about to rob you, honestly.

But Agatha’s uncharitable muttering about delinquent men rings like a warning toll. You’re at risk of sinking into the judgmental sea of upper-middle class suburbia, and that’s not water you want to tread.

“Sure!” You reply, ignoring his lack of introduction. “One sec.”

The cats see you dart from view and hurry to meet you at the door, meowing and yowling. You crack it open only wide enough to snatch up your precious firstborn, his leggies sticking out in abject bafflement at being airborne. You make guilty eye contact with your other two fiends before swiftly wedging the door shut again.

Then adjust your son, his little paws resting on your shoulder as you turn. Your visitor is standing right where you left him, perks up when he sees the cat bundled in your arms.

“This is Guy.”

You step closer, ignoring that shred of nervousness that being close to any man (especially one so physically intimidating) brings. To his credit, he only shuffles just enough to offer his hand for inspection.

“Guy?” he asks.

“I wasn’t going to adopt him at first, so I just called him Little Guy for so long that he thought that was his name. And then I did adopt him and now he won’t answer to anything else.”

You come by the rambling honestly - an obligate introvert until you moved to this neighborhood. There are few things you ever want to talk about with strangers, but your cats are one of them.

“He is a little guy,” the man muses.

Guy has no reservations about rubbing his fat face on the stranger’s glove, a purr kicking up in his chest. You relax as the man keeps his touch gentle and slow, that little bit of paranoid tension trickling into the soil beneath your feet.

“The other two aren’t as well behaved, I don’t trust them without harnesses on,” you add, nodding at the window.

The man glances up at them. Doesn’t seem to realize that his demise (and yours) is imminent from their glares.

“What are their names?”

You flush. “Rasputin and Shithead. I tell everyone else her name is Susan though.”

A sharp bark of laughter splits the air like a falling ax, cracks right down the middle. It makes you jump a bit - Guy is expectedly unbothered - but still you find yourself gratified. Laughing is good, it means you’re doing things right.

“Sorry,” he says, “but my friend would like that name.”

You gesture at the house across the street. “One of them?”

“Yes, the short one.”

You only just manage not to snort in amusement, but it doesn’t stop him from noticing. The mask moves, you think he might be grinning underneath.

“Does he know you call him that?”

“Not if you don’t tell him.”

You doubt you’ll have the opportunity even if you wanted to.

Someone’s at the door.

You’re only half-dressed, waist deep in laundry you have no excuse for putting off so long. Aren’t expecting company either - it’s Sunday morning, everyone should be at their various churches or visiting relatives. Can’t remember the last time someone knocked before noon on a Sunday.

Still, it was a big solid knock. The kind that makes you think it’s not the usual neighbor come by to impose on your space.

You glance down at the hem of your sweatshirt, determine it’s far enough down your thighs to be acceptable, and pad to the door.

You open it to another of the renovators. The “short” one - though you readjust that measurement quickly. He’s still taller than you, it’s just that most anyone seems diminutive compared to his friend.

“Morning,” you chime.

“We need your driveway.” His voice is low and rough, blunt. A sledgehammer to concrete. Also German-accented, you note.

“Oh,” you reply, “what for?”

He grunts. “Work.”

And you, a longtime observer of politely shaking people down for information by this point, smile without teeth.

“Oh, a work truck? It won’t make a mess will it?”

“No.”

You hum, glance at your stupid little sedan parked in the middle of the driveway.

“Okay, I’ll move — Shithead!”

You scramble to grab at the black and white blur of evil, sweeping her up in your arms as she meows in complaint. One of her back feet catches in the hem of your sweatshirt and starts to pull it up as she kicks. You curl an arm under her butt for support, but mostly she just takes the opportunity to chomp down on the meat of your thumb.

You glance at the man. “Shithead is very interested in the renovations.”

He stares. “So that is actually its name. I thought you were being rude and Konig didn’t realize.”

Ah, so that’s his name. You never did get that introduction.

“No, yeah, this is Shithead, I’m sure you can see why.”

The corner of his mouth twitches as she unlatches from your thumb, only to bite down on your wrist.

“So! The truck - when will it be here?”

“Noon.”

“Great! See you around!” You shut the door in his face without getting a name.

You threaten, not for the first time, to turn her into a pair of mittens. She responds by attacking your foot until Rasputin tackles her. Guy cries at the door, probably missing a man he met for all of two minutes.

The work truck stays through the night. Your cats spend all afternoon watching the men cross the street and back. Every once in a while, Guy puts his little feet up on the glass - Konig must be passing by.

You glance out the kitchen window only once and make hard eye contact with the third of their trio. He’s somehow even more covered up than Konig, and yet you get the distinct impression that your gaze is not welcome.

You blink and abandon the dishes for later.

The next morning, they’re already at it when you shuffle outside for the mail. Konig raises a slow hand in greeting, but visibly brightens when you smile sleepily and wave back.

You pass the work truck - the back panel is already open for them to unload wood beams and heavy-looking buckets. Construction stuff, as expected - and not messy, as promised.

You spot a red and white flag decal on the rear window. Austria, isn’t it?

“Did you just wake up?” a flat voice asks.

You squint a little through the morning sun at the man from the day before. The rude one.

You yawn. “Mhmm.”

He frowns at you, disapproval plain. Agatha will like him, you muse, shoving a hand in your mailbox. They both seem to have strong opinions about your sleep schedule.

“It is late.”

“It’s only 8.” You tug out a sheaf of envelopes and begin idly flipping through them.

“The sun is up.”

“So what?”

He clicks his tongue disdainfully. You absently click back. Then jump as a big body lands right in front of you. The third man, two wooden beams balanced on his shoulder. He makes brief eye contact with you again, then strides across the street.

“Shoo,” the rude one says. “Men at work, yes?”

You grumble. “See if I bring you cookies.”

Konig glances up from the truck bed, eyes shining. “Cookies?”

Well shit.

Rasputin keeps you company while you cook. He’s the only one allowed on the counter for any length of time. Shithead steals anything and everything, or bats at your hands while you work. Guy has the equal parts endearing and infuriating habit of touching everything with his paws.

Rasputin is the only one who will sit quietly to observe, leaning in for the occasional kiss. Today, he’s watching you bake cookies and assemble sandwiches. A dual-purpose welcome and peace offering to the three men across the street.

Is it too much? Maybe. But you’ve got nothing better to do and kindness won’t break your bank, so. Cookies and sandwiches.

You change clothes while the cookies cool on the pan - a sundress for the warm, late-spring weather. They’ve seen you in your pajamas far too much already.

At the door, you hesitate. This house doesn’t feel inhabited yet, but it also doesn’t feel right to just open the door. It’s quiet inside, so no power tools to drown you out. Making a face, you settle for a firm knock. It takes a minute or two - you think you might hear distant shouting. Then the door swings in fast and hard, nearly startling you.

It’s the third of their trio, the one you’ve yet to speak to. He’s covered head to toe, fabric around his head and face, leaving only sharp blue eyes to glare out.

“Hi,” you begin, hands thankfully too full to fidget. “I brought food.”

His eyes flick to the foil-covered platter in your hands. Then he swings the door wide and pivots on his heel.

“The cat comes too.”

Cat?

You glance down. Sure enough, Rasputin is standing by your legs, his remaining half a tail swishing. You sputter at him - didn’t even realize he snuck out - but all you get is his characteristic raspy “mah” noise. Right then.

He politely trots by your side as you enter, not even shy about your curiosity. The place is gutted, stripped walls and scuffed floors. It smells like dust and plaster and shaved wood. All the lights have been ripped out of the ceiling, exposing wires like nerve-endings.

There are two empty rooms to either side upon entry, a den and a dining room probably. The den even seems to be split into two, with one half sunk lower, accessible by a couple steps.

You follow your unexpected host through the “dining room,” which seems to be more of a satellite staging zone at the moment. There are piles of tools, stacks of materials, a little island of canvas bags. As you pass through, you notice a staircase, and even from the ground floor, you can see that it crosses over to the den on the other side.

The kitchen is stationed towards the back of the house. You try not to wince at the state of the counters. Pockmarked, blistered, scratched, burned, cracked laminate.

The floor has already been pried up to reveal smooth concrete. You scan it quickly for anything that could hurt Rasputin’s feet before entering.

Your neighbor gestures for you to set the platter down on an empty patch of counter, so you do, peeling back the foil.

“Cookies and sandwiches,” you explain just to have something to say.

“Why?” he asks.

You shrug. “To be nice.”

He stares. You blink back.

“I mean, you don’t have to eat them,” you add. “It would just be a waste.”

Rasputin chooses that moment to leap onto the counter, taking a moment to steady himself once he’s landed. With only one eye and a crooked leg, he’s not the most acrobatic or graceful of your babies, but he makes do.

To your shock, though, once he’s gained his bearings, he makes like he’s going to eat one of the sandwiches.

“Ras,” you gasp, surprised. “Absolutely not!”

The little shit doesn’t even resist when you nudge him away, just settles on his haunches, staring at your neighbor. And, to your confusion, your neighbor grunts.

“Konig! Krueger!” he barks.

That must be the rude one’s name. Krueger. You file that tidbit away.

“What’s your name?” You ask. “No one’s told me.”

He eyes you - dare you say suspiciously - letting the silence stretch.

“Nikto,” he rasps finally.

You finish introducing yourself just as the other two enter. Konig’s down to just the dust mask today, while Krueger seems to have donned one for himself.

“You,” Krueger says.

You arch your eyebrows back. “Me.”

“What brings you here?” Konig interjects, much friendlier.

“Well, you really seemed to want cookies yesterday, so I thought I’d bring some with lunch as a welcome to the neighborhood.”

He practically shoves Krueger to get to the kitchen. You politely get out of the way so he can indulge in your offering without getting trampled.

“Danke schön,” he says, scooping up a sandwich.

“No problem,” you answer, smiling.

Krueger deigns to sidle closer, inspecting the platter with a keen eye. Still, you think you see a bit of appreciation in them before he snatches up one of the sandwiches. For some (concerning) reason, you’re gratified by that. (You’ll just blame it on your habit of feeding ferals and strays.)

“I also wanted to give you three a little warning…” Three pairs of eyes pin you in place. You try not to grimace. “Everyone on this block is nosy as hell. They will literally peak in your yard and check your mail.”

“The mail?” Konig asks, appalled.

“Yeah, I started using a PO Box,” you sigh. You’ve only got so much sanity before you start taking sniper shots with a water gun.

“We will handle it,” Krueger says.

“I’m sure,” you demure. “Anyway, that was all. You can drop the platter off later - or I can come get it. It’s not like you’re far.”

You start looking for Rasputin, only to find him perched on Nikto’s broad shoulder. The man doesn’t even seem bothered by the claws digging through his shirt, scratching a finger at the calico’s cheek.

“Huh,” you say, surprised.

Nikto glances at you, pauses. “What?”

You snort at the bluntness, but grin. “Usually I’m the only one allowed to pet him.”

That’s three for three. Well, two and a half. Shithead could have been trying or escape or go for the ankles for all you know. But Krueger seemed to like her, so that counts for something.

“C’mon my little tank, let’s go,” you coo, approaching.

Rasputin nuzzles his face against Nikto’s once, gives him a parting mraw, then leaps into your waiting arms.

“Bye, guys!” You call, waving over your shoulder as you head for the door.

Konig is the only one to respond with a polite, “see you!” But you don’t take it to heart.

Next

Masterlist

[suiana]

imagine sitting on a train, expecting a short ride but the ride just never ends. and no, it's not a 'the brakes are broken' scenario.

you were just taking a train to like, a nearby suburb to visit your friends like usual. everything was fine. all things were like what they normally were. ticketing station, the weird old man who tells you that they're watching you, and the cute highschool student who frequently tells you stories about his school life.

you board the train like usual, nothing out of the ordinary. you find an empty seat and put on your earphones. you decide you want a calm and soothing song that day. looking out of the window, you hum softly and anticipate what you and your friends are going to do.

that's when you realize you've seen that sign post two times already.

you nervously look around your surroundings, hoping to find someone else who's also realized what's going on.

but there's no one else in the carriage. oh, wait, actually no. you also have the highschool boy.

"hey kid, um, did you notice anything off? like uh-"

"hm? oh, it's you mx."

the boy's voice is deeper than usual as he continues looking out of the window. you frown at his reaction before trying to get an answer out of him again... only for him to turn and completely scare the shit out of you.

that. that was not the face of a human. not when his eyes were all black and curved into tiny moons. not when his lips were stretched so wide that he resembled the stupid 😄 emoji. not when his mouth looked like a bottomless pit of nothing that could swallow you alive. not when his skin was paper white and his body now elongated to look something like a sexy slenderman if that was even possible. not when he didn't resemble a human anymore.

"darling, what's wrong? you don't like my face? I'm really hurt."

his voice is deep as he continues staring at you from his seat. he makes no sign of movement, merely looking down at you with a tilt of his head before a soft giggle comes out.

what the shit? were you in a horror movie now?

screaming and falling onto the floor behind you, you shiver and try escaping. no, you had to leave. you couldn't die now!

scrambling to the help button, you try to get help. surely the technician could try and get help for you? you desperately press the help button, glancing warily at the high school boy that you were sure was actually a 6009 year old demon that decided to possess a body of a kid for the mere fun of it.

"huh? baby? what's up?"

baby? what? first darling, now baby? what's up with these men? you stare at the help panel before whimpering for help. unfortunately the male voice over the line only fills you with more dread.

"you wanna leave? no can do baby. don't worry, we'll take good care of you."

you don't like the way he said good. what the hell was that supposed to mean? for all you know it could mean imprison you in the train for the rest of your life!

"also I'm in the carriage beside Mr. Driver so if you wanna leave that weird shapeshifter beside you feel free to hop over."

beside... you?

you are suddenly hyperaware of every single thing around you and wait a second, why the hell did you feel a suspicious person breathing down your neck?

"leave my dear alone, you creep."

the air around you seems to loosen up as the weird shapeshifter demon backs up. damn, what good timing. you were just about to thank your saviour when the familiar feeling of dread returns, and even worse this time.

he was a handsome guy. tall, well dressed, and absolutely damn gorgeous. he was wearing all black, a black fedora on his head as he smiles at you with his pearly white teeth. reassurance. yet, you felt as though if you dared to disrespect him, your life would be over before you even knew it.

you stay rooted in your place, your mouth running dry as the male steps closer to you. each step of his felt like a step closer to death and... was it just you or were you feeling light headed now?

"i am afraid i cannot touch you, my dear. for your life will be drained with each fleeting touch. but i must say that it is good to finally meet you physically."

death.

you were so damn sure that the man in front of you right now was the grim reaper or maybe even death himself. your whole body was shaking at this point, his very presence making you feel as though an invisible force was pushing you down into the ground and squeezing you tight. it was hard to even breathe.

"ah, sorry. i forgot living beings are ever so fragile. my sincerest apologies, my dear."

just when you thought things couldn't get any worse, the driver's announcement makes you feel like you're about to throw up.

"welcome aboard the hell train, sweetheart. you are now on the line to ǝɹǝɥʍou. please enjoy the rest of your ride!"

shit, so you really were about to get stuck on this train forever.

[prettydaisygirl]

HII back again :>

🌼 "i feel safe with you." with James, comiccon au

in desperate need of a sweet story of a couple nerds finding solace in one another. strangers, with an instant click, spending the entire day tgtr 😫

hope you're well <3

omg thank you so much for this request!! I hope this is what you were looking for, and I also hope it's not too obvious that I've never been to comic-con in my life lmao! I hope you enjoy, hope you're well too <3

🌼 daisy (innocence, loyalty, pure love): pick a character and an AU from the lists above & a prompt from this list and I will write a <500 word drabble

daisy's 500 follower celebration masterlist

James Potter, comic-con, and "I feel safe with you."

cw: fem!reader (reader is Princess Peach), reader wears a wig, Marauders as Mario characters, kind of love at first sight but what is new with James Potter

°˖✧✿✧˖°

It starts with a photo.

Well, actually, it starts with a shout of “Princess Peach?!” directed at you across the convention center by a very handsome man dressed as Mario. His friends, three of them, are also dressed up as various Nintendo characters. One with long, dark hair and tattoos is Mario’s counterpart, Luigi. A tall, lanky one with scars is mostly hidden by a Yoshi costume. And the last, a smaller, squirrelly one, that is dressed as Toad. 

Mario, with curly hair and dark eyes that make your stomach flutter, insists that you take a picture with him. You do, posing with a bright smile as his arm wraps around your back. It’s strong and comforting, and you love the way it lingers even after the flash of the camera.

He tells you his name isn’t actually Mario, it’s James, which makes you laugh. The grin that splits his face when you do is bright and happy, and James decides he’s going to keep you.

The two of you become attached at the hip, and not just because of your matching costumes (though that is a good bonus, you get to take lots of pictures wrapped up together). James acts as though the two of you have known each other forever, pulling you around to different panels for photos, autographs, and questions. You follow him diligently, a warm feeling spreading through your body at his apparent adoption of you into his group. His friends don’t seem to mind, the five of you spending the day exploring the convention center together. 

At lunch, you sit beside James. He insists on helping you with your food even though you don’t need it. He sits too close, but you don’t say anything. For the first time, it feels like someone is looking out for you, choosing you for your real self, and you’re relishing in it.

Yoshi (Remus) apologizes to you when James is distracted, worried that his friend has come across too strong or was otherwise being overwhelming for you. You tell Remus exactly how you feel: that you love it. That there’s something about James that draws you in, and it’s not the matching costume. 

James asks you the same question a bit later. He pulls you aside, away from the crowds and the noise and the bright colors, and tucks some of the blonde wig behind your ear. You find your cheeks warming and your lips turning up into a happy smile.

“You’re alright, huh?” His question is soft, and you know Remus must’ve said something to him. It’s absurd how much you can pick up on despite having just met him. It feels like fate.

“Yes,” You say with a nod and a smile that makes his face light up. Your heart pounds. “I feel safe with you.”

James’ face softens, and he takes your hand. “Good,” He says, “I like you, Princess Peach.”

You can’t help but chuckle, squeezing his hand in return. “I like you too, Mario.”

°˖✧✿✧˖°

© prettydaisygirl

[athenasdaydreams]

Hey I have never requested anything before so I hope this is right but can you please write like literally anything for Jack

Head canon list

What a random day with him is like

going on a date

a meet cute

literally anything you want I crave more of him or if you also have and good fanfic recommendations for him I would love them

pairing: jack wilder x reader

summary: you're stuck in a bank vault. with a wanted thief.

chapter warnings: being stuck in a place for 12 hours (claustrophobia maybe?)

A/N: MY FIRST REQUEST IM LITERALLY GIGGLING

You weren’t supposed to be there. At least, not according to your manager, who had very specifically told you to run your systems diagnostics in the morning, during working hours, with someone else present. But you were tired of being treated like a rookie. You knew this place like the back of your hand—and besides, if you could finish the audit tonight, you’d finally have enough leverage to stop being handed intern-level tasks.

So there you were at 12:47 a.m., crouched by the biometric scanner inside Vault Room C, tapping away at your tablet and listening to the faint hum of the security grid recharging.

You had just finished syncing the AI lock’s firmware when you heard it. A soft click. Then a quiet shuffle.

Your shoulders stiffened.

You weren’t alone.

You reached slowly for the emergency baton strapped to your hip. It was more ceremonial than practical—mostly for insurance compliance—but it was heavy enough to crack a nose.

From behind one of the tall shelving units, a voice broke the silence: “Okay, so technically I didn’t know anyone would be here tonight.”

You spun around. “Who the hell—?!”

A man stepped into view, hands up, expression guileless. He wore all black, which you had to admit was very on-brand for a burglar, but the thing that really got you? He was smiling. Like this was a meet-cute at a goddamn coffee shop.

“Hi,” he said casually, giving you a little wave. “Love what you’ve done with the lighting. Very ‘Mission Impossible meets Bond villain.’”

You stared at him. He looked... young. Handsome. Way too pleased with himself. And familiar.

Your eyes narrowed. “Wait—Jack Wilder?”

He gave a low whistle, impressed. “Aw, you do know me. That saves us so much time.”

“You’re a wanted thief.”

“Magician,” he corrected, casually plucking a playing card from thin air and tossing it aside. “Thief is such a harsh word. I prefer ‘liberator of overly guarded things.’”

You didn’t lower the baton. “You broke into a high-security vault in the middle of the night. Do you want to go to prison?”

He tilted his head. “Not particularly. Though, if I had to share a cell with someone, I could think of worse company.”

You tried to keep your face neutral, but you felt heat rise to your cheeks anyway. “No,” you said flatly. “You’re not charming your way out of this.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He looked past you, eyes scanning the wall-mounted control panel. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I was just about to make a very flashy exit.”

And that’s when the vault door—triggered by the AI lockdown you had just rebooted—slammed shut with a thunderous hiss of pressure.

You froze. Jack’s eyes widened.

Overhead, the ceiling speaker chirped to life: “Emergency lockdown protocol engaged. Vault sealed until 1:00 p.m. Estimated remaining time: 12 hours, 9 minutes.”

Jack blinked.

Then turned to you with a crooked grin. “...Sooo. What’s your policy on spooning for warmth?”

You groaned, turning to bang your head against the vault wall. “This is so far above my paygrade.”

-

The silence didn’t last long.

It never did, around him.

After approximately four minutes of your best “don’t even look at me” energy, Jack made a quiet tsk sound and got to his feet.

“I don’t know who designed this place, but they definitely weren’t thinking of guests,” he muttered, brushing his hands off on his pants. “No chairs. No water. Not even a panic button disguised as a fun little puzzle. Lazy.”

You gave him a look. “It’s a vault, not a hotel suite.”

Jack glanced around like he hadn’t noticed that before. “Could’ve fooled me. All this brushed steel and mood lighting? Very Death Star chic.”

You didn't respond, mostly because you were doing mental math.

Vault Room C was climate controlled, and once the lockdown began, non-essential systems—like heat circulation—powered down to conserve energy. That meant that somewhere in the next few hours, this place was going to get cold.

Uncomfortably cold.

Jack, seemingly unaware or just willfully ignoring the same realization, resumed shuffling his cards, occasionally flicking one across the room and catching it with maddening ease. You tried not to watch, but your eyes kept drifting.

There was something infuriatingly smooth about him. Not just his hands, but his whole presence—like he’d trained every inch of his body to move on a beat you couldn’t hear. Even now, locked in a vault with no escape plan, no phone, and no heater, he was performing.

You hated that it was starting to work.

“I can feel you watching me,” he said, not looking up.

“I’m not.”

He raised an eyebrow and lazily caught a card behind his back. “Liar.”

You blew out a sharp breath and stood, rubbing your arms against the rising chill.

Jack noticed. “Oh, right. Temperature drop.”

You didn’t answer.

“Vaults are always set to power down non-essentials. Should’ve brought a coat,” he added lightly. “Or a date.”

“Stop talking,” you muttered.

But your voice lacked bite.

Because your fingertips were already going numb.

Jack noticed that too.

He walked over slowly, arms folded, cards gone. “You’re shaking.”

“I’m fine.”

“Uh-huh. That’s why your lips are turning blue.” He paused. “Look. I know you hate me—”

“I don’t hate you—”

“That’s progress—but unless you want to end up as a freeze-dried cautionary tale, we should at least try to stay warm.”

You stared at him. “Jack. If this is some ploy to get me to cuddle with you—”

He raised his hands. “No tricks. No charm. Just survival instincts. You don’t have to like me. But you’re cold. And I run warm. And—” he motioned to the walls, “—we’ve got twelve hours and no blankets. That’s math.”

You hesitated.

Everything in you screamed not to give him the satisfaction. But you could already feel the chill settling into your bones. And your uniform jacket wasn’t built for subzero conditions.

Wordlessly, you sank back down onto your crate, drawing your knees up to your chest.

Jack waited a beat, then carefully sat beside you—not too close, just near enough that the heat from his body made a difference. After a moment, he shrugged out of his outer jacket and draped it over your shoulders.

You stared at him.

He didn’t look smug. For once.

He looked… thoughtful.

“Told you,” he said softly. “Not always trying to charm my way out of things.”

You didn’t speak for a while.

Eventually, the quiet filled with soft breathing and the far-off hum of the AI systems in sleep mode.

Then—

“You know,” Jack murmured, voice low and surprisingly sincere, “this isn’t exactly where I pictured myself tonight.”

You turned your head.

“Where did you picture yourself?”

He gave a slow smile, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

“Anywhere else.”

The quiet between you was comfortable in a way you hadn’t expected. Jack’s words hung in the air, honest and raw, but then—

A sharp beep cut through the silence.

The AI’s voice returned, calm and mechanical: “Emergency lockdown protocol disabled. Vault unlocked.”

The heavy door slid open with a slow pneumatic hiss, spilling harsh light into the room. One of the security guards must have noticed you didn't sign out after 4 hours of what was supposed to be a one hour check-up.

Jack immediately sprang up, the familiar spark of mischief returning to his eyes.

“Well, that was fun,” he said with a grin, stepping toward the exit.

You scrambled to your feet, rubbing the numbness from your arms.

“Wait—”

Jack looked back over his shoulder, holding out a playing card; specifically, a queen of hearts.

He smirked. “In case you’re ever tempted to test another vault. Call me.”

You stared at the card—the only tangible thing he’d left behind.

Your fingers brushed the hastily written numbers.

Before you could say another word, Jack slipped past you like a shadow, already half out the door.

You called after him, but the hallway was empty.

Just like that, he was gone.

The sound of distant sirens approached, and you knew the police were close behind.

You stood there, the card heavy in your hand, and wondered if you’d ever see Jack Wilder again.

-

wc: 1.3k

[elikajinnie]

How Can I Choose?

P: Roommates!Heeseung & Jake X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Bonding, Alcohol Drinking, Clubbing, Teasing like LOT of teasing, Possessive Behaviour, Suggestive Content (i mean it), they both kinda whipped for you, Ambigious Ending.

Synopsis: After months of crashing on friends' couches, you finally find a cheap apartment, only to realize your new roommates—Heeseung and Jake—both have feelings for you. As flirtation turns into tension, you must navigate the complexities of living together while deciding how to handle their surprising willingness to share you.

a/n: boaf. baof? BOAF! -- i HOPE the link of the drawing i made of the apartment is accessible! pls tell me if it isnt. anyways! i got this idea in the shower and fried my brain by writing it in the span of a few hours :) SO PLSSS DONT MIND HOW STUPID IT IS.

-----

You stand in front of a tall, gray apartment building, boxes and suitcases piled around you. One of your friends had been kind enough to drive you and your stuff to this new place, and as their car drives away, you're left with a sense of excitement. This is your chance to finally find some stability after a long stretch of uncertainty.

There’s an excitement buzzing in your chest, but a trace of exhaustion lingers. For weeks, you’ve been crashing on friends' couches, juggling multiple jobs, and the demands of school alongside the perpetual search for somewhere—anywhere—to land.

Finally, though, things seemed to be turning around. Just days ago, you’d been clocked in for a slow shift at the convenience store, trying to squeeze in some schoolwork behind the counter.

With only a handful of customers trickling in over the hours, you found yourself browsing for rental listings once you had finished your assignments.

Luck seemed to be on your side that day. The first ad you saw was for an apartment close to the city, with a store nearby and plenty of bus stops in the area. It was perfect. The listing described a single room available in a decently sized apartment, affordable and ideally located. The ad was put up by someone named Sim Jaeyun, who had a picture of a cute dog as his profile picture but no other personal information.

You scrolled through the pictures of the apartment, noting its clean, functional layout. The description specified the need for a tenant who was clean, could cook for themselves, wasn't excessively loud, and could pay rent on time. You nodded, realizing you met all those criteria, and sent in your request without hesitation.

As you close your laptop that day, a customer walks in, and you go back to your duties, hoping that this will be the break you've been waiting for. The prospect of finally unpacking your suitcase for good after moving out from your parents' house was a comforting thought that kept you going.

Now, standing at the building’s entrance, you can’t help but feel a small, hopeful thrill. You walk towards the door and pull your focus to the side panel by the intercom and scan for the familiar name: Jaeyun. But your eyes catch something else—Jake and Heeseung. You tilt your head, curious. Jake was the name you’d come to know him by in your recent conversations, the person who’d warmly accepted your request and walked you through what to expect. You hadn’t known there was another roommate. With a shrug, you figure it’s something you’ll ask him about once you’re inside. Pressing the buzzer, you wait.

A few seconds later, a soft buzz sounds, and the door clicks open. You place a wooden doorstop to prop it open and start bringing in your belongings, piling up suitcases and boxes just inside the entrance. The elevator dings, drawing your attention as the doors slide open, revealing a man stepping out. His dark hair falls casually around his glasses, framing a face both handsome and warm. His clothes are neat but relaxed, hanging comfortably on his frame, and his easy smile grows wider when he spots you.

“Hey! You must be the new tenant,” he greets, extending a hand as he reaches you. “I’m Jake.”

You introduce yourself with a grunt, and he nods, giving a friendly chuckle before he glances down at the boxes and bags. “Let me help you with that.” With his help, it doesn’t take long for you to gather your belongings into the elevator.

Once all your things are inside, Jake presses the button for the third floor, and the elevator doors glide shut with a soft hum. He turns to you, slipping easily into what sounds like a well-rehearsed rundown of apartment essentials.

“So, first thing,” he says, glancing over at you with a friendly smile, “I’ll get you a key for the front door. And the apartment itself has a digital lock, so I’ll give you the code as well. We usually change it every few months, just to be safe.”

You nod, taking it all in as he continues.

“The laundry room is in the basement. It’s shared with a few other units, but it’s usually pretty quiet. Most people don’t do laundry until the weekends, so if you want some quiet time down there, mid-week is best.” He gives a quick chuckle. “Also, there's a schedule sheet down there if you want to block off a time.”

As the elevator rises, he ticks off other small details—the garbage room is down the hall, recycling day is every Tuesday, and there’s a spot by the door for your shoes, since he prefers to keep the place tidy. It’s all practical, straightforward, and reassuring.

As he speaks, you think back to the other name on the door panel and decide to ask. “So… Heeseung?”

“Oh, yeah, he’s a good friend,” Jake replies, giving a small nod. “He’s crashing with me. His schedule is intense, so you won’t see much of him unless there’s something big planned. But he’s a good guy—you’ll like him.”

You nod in understanding, unable to keep the fleeting thought that if Jake looks this good, Heeseung might be just as handsome.

The elevator dings, signaling that you’ve arrived. Jake reaches down, effortlessly lifting a heavy box as he steps into the hallway. He walks to door 3F, punches in the code, and holds the door open as you step into your new apartment.

The first thing that strikes you is the openness of the space. Sunlight filters in through large windows, illuminating the clean, modern living room. A spacious couch faces an oversized TV, framed by soft, neutral-colored walls and minimal decor that gives it a cozy feel. Further in, to the right, lies an open kitchen and dining area. There’s a polished dining table set against the wall, and you can picture yourself here, finally settled and able to take in a meal in peace. A small staircase with four steps sits to the right, leading up to what you assume are the bedrooms.

Jake steps up beside you, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish smile. “I, uh, did a bit of cleaning before you came. Wanted to make sure you had a good first impression.”

You chuckle softly and assure him it’s perfect as he leads you up the stairs. At the top, he pushes open the door to a room and steps inside, placing the bag and box he’s holding down carefully. “Here we are. This is your room.”

You step inside, taking in the space that is, for now, just walls and an bed frame. But with your belongings, you can already imagine turning it into comfortable. Jake heads back downstairs to grab more of your things, leaving you to take in the moment.

Setting your suitcase and bag down, you take a deep breath, just as Jake returns, balancing a final pair of bags. He gives a small, easy smile as he sets them down by the bed frame.

“Oh, by the way,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck, a little sheepish. “I took the liberty of getting you a mattress. Figured it’d make the first few nights a bit more comfortable.”

Your face lights up in gratitude. “Thank you, Jake. That’s really thoughtful.”

He shrugs it off with a smile. “Glad it helps.” Gesturing around the small hall outside, he continues, “So, my room’s just across from yours, and the bathroom’s at the end of the hall, next to my room. Heeseung’s room is right beside yours, but he’s out right now, so no worries there.” He hands you a small, brass-colored key. “Here’s your copy of the front door key.”

You take it, the weight of it feeling like a tiny anchor, grounding you here. With a nod, he gives you a quick smile and quietly steps out, closing the door behind him.

As the silence settles, you glance around, noticing—thankfully—that the door has a lock, which brings a small comfort. You exhale, feeling a rare sense of privacy and security, and decide it’s time to start unpacking. Unzipping your first bag, you begin pulling out clothes and books, setting them on the bed.

With each item you unpack, the room slowly takes shape. Clothes find a place in the closet, your books line up on a narrow shelf, and you tack a few personal photos and mementos on the walls, bringing color and comfort to the once-bare space. A small, soft rug unfurls at the foot of the bed, and a cozy blanket drapes over the mattress. By the time you finish, hours have slipped by without you realizing it.

Just then, a loud growl from your stomach reminds you it’s well past dinnertime. You leave the room, closing the door behind you, and step out into the apartment. The lights are dim, shadows stretching through the now quiet space, and Jake is nowhere in sight. Shrugging, you make your way to the kitchen.

You open the fridge and peer inside, noticing containers labeled with Jake and Heeseung’s names—and a few others you don’t recognize. One container in particular catches your eye, with a handwritten label that reads Ni-ki. Just as you’re about to open it, wondering who this Ni-ki is, a soft chime sounds from the front door, signaling someone’s arrival.

Turning, you see a tall man standing in the entryway, framed by the dim glow of the hallway. He’s effortlessly cool, dressed in baggy pants and a leather jacket, a motorcycle helmet tucked under his arm. His dark hair is swept back, and his gaze sharpens as he looks at you.

“Who are you?” he asks, his voice low and slightly gruff.

You introduce yourself, explaining you’re Jake’s new roommate, and he nods in understanding.

“So, you’re the girl Jake was talking about,” he says, almost to himself. “I’m Heeseung.” He then glances at the container still in your hand and raises an eyebrow. “You might want to avoid eating Ni-ki’s leftovers,” he advises with a small smirk. “He can be… protective of his food.”

You tilt your head. “Who’s Ni-ki?”

“A friend,” Heeseung replies simply, slipping out of his jacket and hanging it by the door. As you place the container back in the fridge, he suddenly reappears in front of you, holding out a takeout bag.

“Here,” he says, passing it to you.

You take it, peeking inside to find a neatly packed dinner. You look up, surprised. “Thank you, Heeseung.”

His expression softens, a faint smile curving his lips. “You’re welcome.”

A voice from behind interrupts. “Can you close the fridge?”

You and Heeseung turn to see Jake standing at the kitchen entrance, dressed in pajamas, rubbing his eyes with a sleepy smile. You quickly apologize and shut the fridge door, but Jake waves it off as he turns his attention to Heeseung.

“Hey, man,” Jake says, stepping over to Heeseung. Then, with a gleam in his eye, he looks back at you, resting his hand on your shoulder and playfully bouncing on his feet. “Isn’t she great? The new roommate?”

Heeseung chuckles, looking down at you with a gaze that feels unexpectedly warm. “She’s even better than you said,” he says, his voice dropping to a soft, teasing tone. “Got a good taste in roommates, huh?”

Jake nods, grinning. “Right? A good pick for sure.” He tosses you a lighthearted wink, adding, “We’re lucky to have you here.”

The playful compliments catch you off guard, and you can feel your cheeks heating up. Silently grateful for the dim light that hides your blush, you stammer out a thank you, bidding them both goodnight before slipping back to your room.

Once inside, you lock the door and settle onto the bed, setting up the takeout and opening your laptop. The food is still warm, and you relax against the pillows, pulling up an episode of the series you’ve been watching.

-----

The next morning, your alarm jolts you awake, piercing through the calm of your dreams. You groan and fumble to turn it off, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you sit up.

After changing into a fresh set of clothes, you grab your toiletries and shuffle out into the hallway, relieved to find it empty. You lock the bathroom door behind you, a small sigh of relief escaping your lips.

Inside, the bathroom is decently sized, its neutral colors soothing. A simple shower sits in the far corner, while a toilet is tucked beside it. Two sinks stand side by side, both topped with a huge mirror that reflects the morning light. You notice one sink is filled with various male grooming products—shaving cream, two toothbrushs, and a few other items—while the other sink remains empty. A smile tugs at your lips as you remember Jake mentioning that the empty sink was yours.

You get to work, brushing your teeth and washing your face, the cool water refreshing against your skin. The cabinets hold a few decorations and essentials, but you keep it simple as you focus on getting ready for the day. Once you finish, you take a last glance at your reflection, before exiting the bathroom. You head back to your room to grab your bag. After making sure the door is locked behind you, you head down the stairs and out of the apartment, trying to be as quiet as possible. You hope you didn’t wake Jake and Heeseung; they both have classes later in the day, and you’d hate to disturb their sleep.

Once outside, you take a deep breath, the crisp morning air filling your lungs as you walk toward the bus stop. You decide to skip breakfast this morning, opting to grab lunch on campus and planning to pick up groceries in the afternoon instead.

The elevator ride down feels swift, and as you step outside, you see the bus pulling up just in time. You board, find a seat, and settle in, clutching your bag on your lap as you pull out your phone. With a few taps, you put on your favorite playlist, letting the music drown out the morning chatter around you.

As the bus rolls along, you gaze out the window, watching the world blur by. Trees, shops, and people merge into a soft painting of morning life, and a small smile spreads across your face.

----

After a long day of classes, you make your way back to the bus stop, the familiar rhythm of your routine guiding you. Once on the bus, you relax, your mind still buzzing from the lectures and discussions. The bus stops at the mall, and you hop off, ready to clock into your shift at the clothing store.

The hours fly by as you assist customers, folding clothes, and restocking shelves. Each sale and every smile from satisfied shoppers makes the time pass a little quicker. When your shift finally ends, you clock out, ready to head to your next job.

Another bus ride takes you to the convenience store, where you cover for one of your colleagues who is running late. Luckily, your shift is only a few hours. You greet familiar faces as you work the register, and soon enough, your colleague arrives, a bit flustered but apologetic. You clock out, the end of your shift bringing a welcome sigh of relief.

With a little time to spare, you decide to shop for groceries. The store is busy, but you quickly gather the essentials you need for the week. With bags in hand, you hop on the bus again, this time heading to a nearby takeout place where you’ve already called in an order. The thought of cooking feels too exhausting after a long day, so you indulge in the convenience.

Once you pick up your food, you decide to walk home since it’s not too far. As you approach the apartment, you pull out your keychain, finding the key that now feels familiar. Unlocking the door, you step inside, your feet heavy with fatigue. The elevator ride up feels like a small victory, and as you reach the third floor, you shuffle down the hallway to your door.

You punch in the code, the door clicking open as you step inside. Kicking off your shoes and hanging your jacket, you’re immediately greeted by the cheerful presence of Jake and Heeseung. They’re in the living room, and their warm smiles lift your spirits.

“How was your day?” Jake asks, leaning forward with genuine interest.

“Exhausting,” you reply, dragging your bag into the dining area and setting down the takeout food on the table.

Jake’s eyes light up, and he hurries over, his curiosity piqued as he peeks at the food. Meanwhile, Heeseung moves to help you with the groceries, offering to take the bags to the kitchen.

As you unpack, you can’t help but smile at Jake, who is now sneakily grabbing some fries from the takeout container. You shake your head playfully, and he grins, unrepentant in his munching.

The three of you settle around the table, sharing the fries and nuggets, laughter filling the space as you recount the amusing moments from your day. But soon, Heeseung checks the time and realizes he has to get to work.

“Alright, I gotta run,” he says, grabbing his jacket and helmet. “See you guys later!” You and Jake wave goodbye as the front door closes behind him, leaving you and Jake alone in the apartment.

The atmosphere shifts to a cozy calm as you both move to the couch, where Jake grabs a blanket and hands it to you. You settle in, finding the couch surprisingly comfortable.

“Alright, what are we in the mood for?” Jake asks, glancing over at you.

“Something light, maybe a comedy?” you suggest, settling into the cushions.

He nods, his finger hovering over a title. “I’m down for that. Do you have a favorite comedy?”

You think for a moment, a smile creeping onto your face as you recall one of your all-time favorites. “I love Superbad! It’s just so ridiculous but really relatable. What about you?”

Jake grins, leaning back. “Classic choice! I’d have to say The Hangover. That movie just cracks me up every time. The whole concept is just so over-the-top.”

You laugh, remembering the wild escapades of the characters. “It really is! And the way everything just spirals out of control—it's like a train wreck you can’t look away from.”

He clicks on a rom-com, and you settle in to watch. As the opening credits roll, you continue chatting. “So, what got you into movies?” you ask, genuinely curious.

Jake shrugs, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “I guess I grew up watching them with my family. It was always a thing for us to have movie nights on weekends. How about you?”

“Same! My parents were big on movies too, so I was basically raised on classic films. We’d have popcorn and everything. I think that’s where I got my love for them.”

You share stories of your favorite movie nights, each anecdote flowing effortlessly between you. You talk about the films that have made you cry, the ones that made you laugh until your sides hurt, and the thrillers that kept you on the edge of your seat.

“I’m a sucker for horror movies,” Jake admits, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “The adrenaline rush is just so addictive. Have you seen The Conjuring?”

You nod vigorously, recalling how it had you hiding behind your hands the entire time. “That one is terrifying! I had to sleep with the lights on for a week after.”

Jake laughs, and it feels easy and comfortable, the way friends can be. “Same! I love the ones that mess with your mind. You think it’s just a simple scare, but then it leaves you questioning everything later.”

The warmth of the couch and the soft hum of the movie make it hard to keep your eyes open. You fight against the pull of sleep, telling yourself you should stay awake, but it’s a losing battle. Your eyelids grow heavier, and soon enough, they flutter shut, surrendering to the comfort enveloping you.

Time slips away, and you drift in and out of consciousness. The sounds of the film fade into a gentle lull, a backdrop to your dreams.

You only briefly wake when you feel yourself being lifted. Your eyes flutter open, and you blink a few times, trying to make sense of your surroundings. When your gaze meets Jake’s, looking down at you with a sleepy smile, warmth spreads through your chest.

“Go back to sleep,” he mumbles, his voice low and soothing. You can’t find it in you to argue, and you let the comforting haze of sleep pull you under once more.

Jake carries you effortlessly, maneuvering through the apartment, and you feel the gentle sway of his movements. You catch brief glimpses of your surroundings as he struggles momentarily with the lock on your bedroom door, the soft click echoing in the stillness.

He finally succeeds, and with a gentle motion, he lays you down in your bed. The softness of your plushies welcomes you, and you instinctively snuggle closer to them. You hear Jake’s soft chuckle, and it makes you smile even in your half-asleep state.

Just before you fully drift off again, you feel a soft brush against your face as Jake tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

He smiles down at you, a quiet moment shared between you. Then, with a gentle touch, he walks out of the room, leaving the door slightly ajar.

A few moments pass before he returns, this time holding a makeup wipe. You stir slightly, feeling his presence as he approaches the bed. Carefully, he leans down, and you can barely register what he’s doing as he begins to remove your makeup from the day. His movements are soft and precise, and you can’t help but feel a rush of warmth at his tenderness.

“There,” he whispers when he’s done, a smile on his lips as he looks at you. “Pretty...” The word lingers in the air, and even in your half-asleep state, it makes your heart flutter. He tosses the used wipe into the small bin underneath your desk and quietly closes your door.

The sound of the movie plays softly in the background as Jake settles back into the living room, the soft glow of the screen illuminating his features. He waits for Heeseung to return, glancing occasionally toward the hallway, a small smile on his face as he thinks of you tucked away in your room.

----

The next morning, you wake up slowly, the soft sunlight filtering through your window, casting warm rays across your face. It feels like a rare luxury to have a late shift, and you stretch lazily under the covers before finally rolling out of bed. You take your time with your morning routine, enjoying the rare moment of leisure before a long shift ahead.

Once you’re dressed and refreshed, you make your way to the kitchen, the familiar scents of home enveloping you. You decide to whip up some breakfast, you switch on the TV, letting the sounds of a morning show accompany your meal prep.

After breakfast, you head back to your room to tackle some schoolwork at your desk. The quiet hum of the apartment is comforting as you focus on your notes.

It’s not long before you hear the soft sound of Heeseung’s bedroom door creaking open, followed by some shuffling footsteps. Curious, you glance toward your door, wondering if he’s finally awake. Moments later, a knock at your door pulls you from your concentration.

“Come in!” you call out, looking up to see Heeseung standing there, looking adorably disheveled. His sweatpants hang low on his hips, a baggy t-shirt swamping him, and messy hair sticks out in all directions, giving him a relaxed look. His fluffy socks peek out from beneath his pants as he shuffles inside.

“Can you make breakfast for me?” he asks, his voice still thick with sleep.

“Can’t you?” you reply teasingly.

“Too tired…” he mutters, a hint of a pout on his lips.

“Late night at the bar?” you inquire, stepping around him and heading to the kitchen, a grin spreading across your face as he follows you like a sleepy shadow.

“Yeah, I had to cover for my friend while he hooked up with some girl… and he took too long,” he explains, his tone flat as he leans against the kitchen island.

“Oh, that sounds terrible. When did you get home?” you ask, measuring out ingredients for waffles.

“Four a.m…” he mumbles, and you can’t help but chuckle softly, shaking your head at his apparent misfortune.

You hum as you mix the batter, the rhythmic motion soothing in its familiarity. Suddenly, you feel Heeseung draping himself over you from behind, his arms wrapping around your waist and his head resting against the crook of your neck.

“Heeseung?…” you mumble, surprised but not entirely against the sudden intimacy. All you receive in response are muffled grumbles, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.

After a moment of stunned hesitation, you decide to carry on with your waffle-making, pouring the batter into the hot waffle iron while he clings to you like a sleepy koala. The gentle weight of him against you is unexpected, but oddly comforting. You focus on the task at hand, feeling the warmth radiating from both the iron and his body.

You try to push the knowledge of how close you both are to the back of your mind, reminding yourself that if Jake were to come in, he wouldn’t see you from this angle. The thought makes your cheeks warm, but you push it aside, trying to maintain your composure as you concentrate on breakfast.

As the waffle iron hisses and the sweet smell begins to fill the air, you steal a glance at Heeseung, who seems perfectly content with his head resting on you, his grip tightening slightly as if to anchor himself in place.

When the waffles finally finish cooking, the kitchen fills with the delicious scent of warm sweetness, and you can’t help but feel a sense of accomplishment. Heeseung slowly releases his hold on you, finally letting you go as he moves to grab a plate. He fills it with a few waffles, drizzling syrup over them before taking a bite, a look of sheer bliss crossing his face.

“These are amazing,” he mumbles with a mouthful, and you can’t help but chuckle at his eagerness.

“Thanks! Just don’t forget who made them,” you tease, your heart warming at his genuine happiness.

He finishes chewing and leans over to wrap his arms around you once more, pulling you in for a brief hug. “Seriously, thank you. You’re a lifesaver,” he says before plopping down on the couch, clearly ready to enjoy his breakfast in comfort.

You linger in the kitchen for a moment, a smile still on your face, before opening the fridge and grabbing a vitamin drink. You pop it open and take a refreshing sip, as you walk out into the living room.

As you step into the space, you pause at the sight before you. Heeseung has sprawled across the couch, the half-eaten waffle left hanging from his mouth, his eyes shut and small snores escaping him. It’s an adorable sight, and you can’t help but laugh softly, shaking your head in disbelief at how cute he looks.

You quickly grab your phone, snapping a picture of the moment before sending it off to Jake, knowing he would appreciate the humor of the situation once he sees it after class.

With a playful smirk, you approach Heeseung, carefully prying the half-eaten waffle from his mouth. As you do, you notice his shirt has ridden up slightly, exposing a sliver of skin. You gently pull it down, wanting to make him more comfortable. Then, you grab a nearby blanket and drape it over him, ensuring he stays warm.

Ruffling his messy hair affectionately, you step back to admire your handiwork, a fond smile gracing your lips. With Heeseung settled and blissfully unaware, you retreat back to your room, determined to continue your studying.

A little while later, as you immerse yourself in your notes, your phone buzzes with a notification. You glance at the screen, seeing Jake's name light up, and you can’t help but smile at the excited message he sent:

“OMG, that’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen! Heeseung is literally draping himself over the couch like a cute baby sloth!”

You laugh, unable to help yourself as you imagine Jake’s exaggerated reactions. You quickly type back a response, “Right? He’s impossible! Just don’t tell him I took that photo.”

As the afternoon rolls around, you glance at the clock, realizing it’s time to get ready for work. You quietly shuffle around the apartment, careful not to wake Heeseung, who remains soundly asleep on the couch, still draped in the cozy blanket you had covered him with. You smile at the sight, finding it hard to resist the urge to snap another picture, but you decide to let him rest instead.

After changing into your work uniform, you grab your bag and head out, giving one last look at the peaceful scene before closing the door behind you. The chill of the air greets you as you make your way to the bus stop, excitement bubbling in your chest for the shift ahead.

Once you arrive at the sweet shop, you clock in and prepare for the bustling evening. Just as the bell above the door jingles, a wave of children floods in, their faces lighting up at the sight of colorful candies and pastries. You jump into action, serving up scoops of ice cream and filling bags with sugary treats, the cheerful chaos making the time fly by.

After what feels like hours, the rush of kids finally calms down, and you lean against the counter, wiping your brow with a sigh of relief. You chat with two of your colleagues, sharing stories and laughing about the antics of the day.

“Did you see the way that kid tried to sneak in an extra gummy bear?” one of them chuckles, mimicking the child’s guilty expression. You join in the laughter, easing the fatigue from your day.

Eventually, your shift comes to an end, and you clock out, tired but satisfied. As you take the bus home, you pull out your phone, ready to check messages. To your delight, you see a new notification from Jake. He’s sent you a picture, a selfie of him looking triumphant, with Heeseung still sprawled across the couch behind him, the blanket now haphazardly draped over his body.

You can’t help but laugh at the scene, Jake’s grin wide as he gives a thumbs-up, and you quickly save the picture to your phone.

“You’re not letting him sleep the whole day away, are you?” you text back, adding a laughing emoji to convey your playful tone.

Almost immediately, Jake replies, “Nah, I just let him be while I made some dinner. He’s gonna regret sleeping through the day!”

You smile at his enthusiasm, enjoying the banter as you make your way back to the apartment.

----

The days zoom by in a blur of laughter and warmth, transforming what started as an uncertain arrangement into a comfortable home.

Your first few weeks are filled with shared meals and movie nights, late-night chats about everything from favorite foods to secrets. Heeseung’s easy-going charm and Jake’s playful energy bring out the best in you, and you find yourself laughing more than you ever thought possible.

When you finally meet their friends—Ni-ki, Sunghoon, Sunoo, Jungwon, and Jay—you feel a mixture of nerves and excitement. Ni-ki, in particular, is quick-witted and charming, but you shoot Heeseung a warning glare, determined to keep your near mishap with the leftovers under wraps. To your relief, he complies, stifling laughter as you all share stories and get to know one another.

It’s surprising how easily you fit into this lively group, your personality blending seamlessly with theirs. Sunghoon and Sunoo’s humor keeps the atmosphere light, while Jungwon’s gentle nature balances it out perfectly. You also introduce them to your friends Wonyoung, Yunjin, Kyrell, and Yeonjung, and the two groups meld effortlessly, laughter and teasing filling the air whenever you all hang out together.

Despite your busy schedules—your classes, Jake’s shifts at the pet store and smoothie shop, and Heeseung’s late nights at the bar and his job at the sports store—there’s always time for fun. You all make a point to coordinate your schedules, planning outings that range from shopping sprees to casual movie marathons at home.

Amidst the joyful chaos, there comes a time when you begin to question your place between Jake and Heeseung. It’s subtle at first, just fleeting moments that flit past your consciousness like shadows. They both treat you with a warmth that feels more intimate than just roommates or friends.

Jake’s flirtation is often lighthearted and playful, a gentle tease that leaves you smiling longer than you should. He’ll come up behind you, throwing an arm over your shoulder as he watches whatever show you’re binging, the warmth of his body brushing against yours making your heart race. “What do you think about this one?” he’ll ask, his voice light, but there’s an underlying sincerity in his gaze that leaves you pondering what’s really behind his casual demeanor.

Heeseung, on the other hand, has a more physical way of expressing his affection. He’ll sneak up behind you while you’re washing dishes, his arms wrapping around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder as he hums a tune. “What’s for dinner?” he’ll ask, his breath tickling your ear. The way he lingers there—so close, so familiar—sends a shiver down your spine. It feels like more than just a friendly embrace, a tenderness that wraps around you like a warm blanket.

It’s in these moments that you find yourself questioning the boundaries of your relationship. Are they just being friendly, or is there something deeper at play? You try to dismiss the thought, laughing off their behavior as just typical friend antics.

Then there are the times when Jake becomes almost puppy-like, trailing after you, eager to join in whatever you’re doing. “Can I help?” he’ll ask, hovering by your side while you prepare dinner, his eyes sparkling with excitement. There’s a softness in his gaze that makes you feel special, cherished in a way you hadn’t expected when you first moved in. And when you catch him stealing glances at you when he thinks you’re not looking, your heart skips a beat, your breath catching in your throat.

You wonder if they’re both feeling the same way, caught up in a strange blend of friendship and something more. The ambiguity weighs on you, and late at night, when you lie awake in your bed, you can’t help but replay their actions in your mind. Are you just imagining things? Do they see you as more than a roommate?

The days blend into a delightful routine, filled with laughter and playful banter. But beneath the surface, Jake and Heeseung have started to engage in a little game of their own, one that you’re blissfully unaware of. You can’t quite pinpoint when it began, but it becomes clear that they’ve both developed an interest in you that goes beyond friendship.

During one lazy afternoon, the three of you gather in the living room, the sun streaming through the large windows. You’re sprawled on the couch, engrossed in a book, when Jake plops down beside you. He leans over, peering at your pages with a mischievous grin. “You know, I could help you study,” he teases, his voice dropping to a lower, suggestive tone. “I’m a great tutor, especially with… hands-on experience.” You look up, caught off guard by his words, your cheeks flushing as you playfully shove him away.

Heeseung, who’s been lounging in the armchair across from you, raises an eyebrow. “What are you studying? Maybe I could lend a hand, too. I promise I won’t distract you—much.” He flashes you a charming smile that sends your heart racing, and you can’t help but laugh nervously, your mind racing as you try to focus on your book instead.

Later that week, you’re preparing dinner, humming to yourself as you chop vegetables. Suddenly, you feel a warm presence behind you. Jake sneaks up and leans against the counter, his arms crossed, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. “Need a sous chef?” he asks, leaning closer, his voice low and teasing. “I can stir the pot and keep you company at the same time.” You chuckle, rolling your eyes, but the warmth of his body so close to yours sends a jolt through you.

“Yeah, because that’s what I need right now,” you respond, your tone light but your heart betraying you as it races.

Heeseung strolls in just then, a knowing smile on his face as he catches the two of you. “Am i interrupting something?” he chides playfully, arching an eyebrow at Jake. You feel your cheeks heat up as the playful banter continues, and you can’t help but feel like the center of attention, albeit in a way that leaves you both flustered and exhilarated.

What you don’t realize is that behind the scenes, a little competition has begun. Jake and Heeseung have started making bets on who can get your attention first, whispering and laughing about it when they think you can’t hear. “I’ll bet you a smoothie I can make her blush before dinner,” Jake declares one day, his eyes sparkling with mischief. Heeseung chuckles, countering with, “You’re on. But I’ll raise you—I’ll bet you can’t make her laugh while doing it.”

These little moments of rivalry only heighten the flirtation. One afternoon, you’re lounging in the living room when Heeseung walks in wearing a fitted shirt that highlights his toned physique. He notices you staring and grins, leaning casually against the wall. “What? You like what you see?” he asks, his voice dripping with playful confidence. You can’t help but feel your cheeks burn as you stammer a response, the heat creeping up your neck as you try to find words.

“Shut up, Heeseung,” you manage, your laughter mingling with embarrassment, but he only chuckles, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you.

Then there are times when Jake gets a bit bolder. One evening, he finds you in your room, studying. He leans against the doorway, arms crossed, looking utterly relaxed yet undeniably handsome. “You know, if you need a study break, I’m really good at helping people… unwind,” he says, a teasing glint in his eye. You can feel your heart race, and your response gets caught in your throat, leaving you momentarily speechless.

As weeks turn into months, these playful exchanges become more frequent and more suggestive, leaving you in a constant state of fluster. They often playfully compete for your attention, showering you with flirty comments and lingering touches that send your heart racing.

It’s not just the comments that leave you flustered; it’s the way they both find excuses to be close to you. Jake will brush against you as he reaches for a snack, his fingers grazing yours in a way that feels charged with something more. Heeseung will lean in while you’re cooking, his breath warm against your neck as he whispers a playful remark, leaving you shivering with both surprise and delight.

One afternoon, after weeks of playful banter and flirtation from Jake and Heeseung, you decide it’s time to turn the tables. You’ve been thinking about how much fun it could be to throw a little flirting back their way, to see if they can handle a taste of their own medicine.

You wait until a Saturday when everyone is home. The living room is buzzing with energy as you all relax together, the sound of a movie playing softly in the background. Jake is sprawled across the couch, while Heeseung sits in the armchair, legs casually crossed and an easy smile on his face as he scrolls through his phone.

Feeling a rush of confidence, you take a deep breath and lean against the doorframe, crossing your arms and adopting a playful smirk. “You know,” you begin, drawing their attention, “I could really use some help getting my grades up. Maybe I should schedule some one-on-one study sessions with the both of you.”

Jake looks up, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise, and Heeseung’s mouth curves into an amused smile. “Oh? Are you sure you can handle all this help?” Jake quips, his tone teasing, but you can see the flush creeping up his cheeks.

“Just think of it as an opportunity to show me your expertise,” you reply, maintaining eye contact with both of them as you saunter closer. You can feel the charged atmosphere as you lean casually against the arm of the couch, inching closer to Jake. “I could use some practical lessons.”

Heeseung sits up a little straighter, his eyes narrowing playfully. “Practical lessons? Sounds like someone is trying to get a little more than just academic help,” he retorts, the hint of a challenge in his voice. You can tell he’s intrigued by your sudden boldness.

“Oh, I definitely am,” you say with a playful wink, enjoying the way both of them are momentarily taken aback. “But only if you can keep up with me.” You’re met with stunned silence, and for a moment, you wonder if you’ve gone too far. But then, Jake bursts out laughing, his cheeks slightly flushed.

“You’re on!” he declares, shooting you a cocky grin that ignites a flutter in your stomach. “But just so you know, I’m not going to go easy on you.”

Heeseung rolls his eyes in mock defeat, trying to maintain his cool demeanor. “Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you when you can’t keep up.” His voice is low and teasing, the challenge hanging in the air between you.

As the afternoon unfolds, you continue to flirt playfully with both of them, tossing comments back and forth. You compliment Jake on his “impressive knowledge” of pop culture, leaning in just a bit too close as you whisper about how his recommendations have been “so helpful.” You watch as his cheeks flush, caught off guard by your boldness.

Heeseung, not to be outdone, makes his own moves. “You know,” he says, his voice smooth, “if you want to study hard, you might need to take some breaks. I could think of some fun activities to fill those breaks.” He winks, and you can’t help but laugh at how easy it is to keep the teasing going.

The three of you end up in a lighthearted competition, each trying to out-flirt the other. You toss compliments like confetti, and they respond in kind, each line making the tension between you thick and exhilarating.

“Wow, I didn’t realize you two were so charming,” you remark, feigning innocence as you watch them squirm a little under your gaze. “Maybe I should have taken you up on that help sooner.”

Jake grins, leaning back against the couch with a newfound confidence. “Well, now you know. We can definitely provide the special assistance you need.”

You feel a rush of satisfaction at finally flipping the script. The laughter fills the room, punctuated by playful banter, and it feels good to see them flustered for a change, struggling to come up with responses to your flirty remarks.

Eventually, as the evening winds down, you sit back and bask in the warmth of their attention.

You’ve made your mark, and it’s clear that your flirty game has raised the stakes between you and your two charming roommates, setting the stage for whatever might come next.

----

The late afternoon sun filtered through the curtains of your room, casting a warm glow as you returned home from work. Your phone buzzed with a notification, and you quickly glanced at the group chat. The excitement in the messages about a night out at a local club had your heart racing with anticipation. Without a second thought, you agreed to join, feeling a surge of energy at the prospect of a night filled with laughter and music.

You rushed to your closet, rifling through your clothes until you found the perfect outfit: a fitted black top that hugged your curves and a high-waisted skirt that accentuated your figure. You quickly changed and turned your attention to your makeup, after curling your hair into loose waves, you added a touch of glittering highlighter to your skin for that extra glow.

Grabbing a small, chic purse to carry your essentials, you made your way downstairs. As you descended, you spotted Heeseung standing in the living room, his back to you as he exchanged goodbyes with Jake, who lounged on the couch. Both of them turned as you approached, their expressions shifting from casual conversation to admiration.

Jake’s mouth fell slightly open, clearly impressed. “Where are you off to?” he asked, his tone a mix of curiosity and admiration.

“The club,” you replied, a smile forming on your lips as you noticed the way Heeseung’s gaze lingered on you.

Before you could say anything else, Heeseung quickly chimed in, “I can drive you.” He moved toward the closet, retrieving another helmet with a casual ease that made your heart flutter. The prospect of riding on his motorcycle sent a thrill through you.

You nodded, excitement bubbling in your chest as you took the helmet from him. After throwing on a short jacket to ward off the evening chill, you turned to Jake. “See you later!” you called out, waving goodbye. He still looked slightly dazed, clearly caught off guard by your transformation.

You followed Heeseung down to the parking lot, the anticipation of the ride sparking in the air around you. As he climbed onto his motorcycle, you felt a rush of adrenaline. You slipped on the helmet, securing it snugly before getting on behind him. As you wrapped your arms around his waist, the warmth of his body seeped through your jacket, and he started the bike, the engine rumbling beneath you.

With a twist of the throttle, you felt the bike lurch forward, and you leaned into Heeseung’s back as he expertly maneuvered through the streets. The cool wind whipped past, sending a shiver through your exposed skin, but you didn’t mind; the thrill of the ride was invigorating.

The ride to the club was quick, the familiar streets flying by as you soaked in the freedom of the moment.

As you both arrived at the club, the vibrant energy of the nightlife buzzed around you, the pulsing music spilling out into the cool evening air. You hopped off the motorcycle, feeling exhilarated, and removed your helmet, shaking your hair loose and letting it cascade down. Just then, a group of drunken guys standing outside caught sight of you, their eyes lighting up in appreciation.

“Hey there, beautiful!” one of them hollered, followed by a chorus of wolf whistles. “Looking good! I’d love to have you hugging me from behind like that!” Their comments were laced with crude humor, and you felt a grimace form on your lips as you rolled your eyes in annoyance.

Before you could respond, Heeseung had already dismounted his bike, removing his helmet and stepping forward with a glare aimed at the group. “Back off!” he shouted, his tone sharp and commanding, making it clear he wouldn’t tolerate their disrespect. The guys exchanged wary glances but quickly retreated, their bravado faltering under Heeseung’s fierce expression.

You let out a small sigh of relief, thankful for his protective instinct, and grabbed his hand, pulling him toward the entrance of the club. “Come on, you gotta clock in,” you urged, eager to escape the unwanted attention. As you reached the door, you noticed your friends waiting just outside, their faces lighting up at the sight of you.

With a friendly wave, you called out to them before turning back to Heeseung. The bouncer, recognizing him, waved you both through without hesitation, allowing you and your friends to enter the lively club atmosphere.

As you stepped inside, the beat of the music enveloped you, and the dazzling lights danced around the room, pulling you into the vibrant nightlife. Heeseung squeezed your hand gently before letting go, heading toward the bar to start his shift.

----

The night had unraveled into a blur of laughter, music, and drinks, with you and your friends dancing under the flashing lights, letting loose in a way you hadn’t in a while. You’d managed to get a couple of cheap—or even free—drinks thanks to Heeseung working behind the bar. Every time you looked over, he would give you a quick wink or a grin, sending another round your way.

And you weren’t short on attention either, noticing that a few guys in the club were more than happy to flirt. Their compliments and eager smiles were flattering, and you enjoyed the easygoing fun of it all. Still, as your friends leaned in to shout in your ear over the music, you noticed something: Heeseung’s gaze wasn’t just casually lingering. He was watching, his eyes sharp, his attention shifting from you to each new guy who tried his luck.

At one point, a guy offered to buy you a drink, and you agreed with a polite smile, following him over to the bar. As he ordered, Heeseung’s expression changed, his smile a touch too tight.

He set both drinks on the bar with an innocent smile, and you took a sip of yours, which tasted surprisingly perfect. But the guy next to you sputtered, coughing immediately as he spat his drink out, splattering a bit on your sleeve. He turned, red-faced, looking horrified.

“Why is this so… spicy?” he demanded, voice hoarse. Heeseung kept his face impassive, busying himself with a rag and the counter.

You couldn’t hold back a giggle as you watched Heeseung discreetly nudge the hot sauce bottle further under the counter, his lips twitching into a smile as the guy stomped off, grumbling. Not a minute later, you headed for the restroom, shaking your head in amusement at Heeseung’s antics.

In the quiet of the restroom, you took a moment to breathe, glancing at your reflection in the mirror. You slipped off your jacket, draping it over a nearby hook, revealing the full outfit you'd carefully chosen for tonight. The cool air in the room brushed against your exposed skin, a reminder of how much thought you'd put into tonight's look.

You ran a hand over your clothes, smoothing out any creases, then turned to check your makeup. With a practiced hand, you reapplied a touch of lip gloss and adjusted your eyeliner.

As you strolled back into the club, the pulsing lights and thumping bass surrounded you, momentarily drowning out your thoughts. You barely glanced at the guy from earlier, who was now fully engrossed in conversation with another girl, when your gaze was irresistibly drawn to the bar.

There stood Heeseung and Jake, leaning casually against the polished counter. Jake wore a pair of fitted jeans that hugged his form just right and a simple shirt that accentuated his toned physique. His hair was pushed back effortlessly. Heeseung was a perfect match, dressed in jeans as well, but opted for a sleek black t-shirt that clung to his broad shoulders. His hair was also slicked back now.

The moment they turned their attention to you, their eyes locked onto you with an intensity that left you momentarily breathless. You couldn’t help but feel a rush of surprise and excitement at seeing them both here, looking so undeniably handsome.

Heeseung’s gaze was unblinking, a flicker of something bold and daring mixed in with his usual confident smirk. His posture was casual, one hand braced against the bar while the other rested on his hip, but his eyes… they seemed to trace over you with a slow, almost deliberate sweep, lingering a second too long. The defiance in his smirk spoke volumes, as if daring anyone else to look at you the way he was. There was a possessive glint in his eyes, as if he was barely holding himself back from reaching out.

Then there was Jake, whose gaze held a different kind of heat. His eyes softened as they traveled from your face down to your outfit, then back up. He took in every detail—your makeup, the way your clothes clung to your figure, the glint of confidence in your eyes. When he met your gaze again, his lips curled into a grin, the warmth of his smile undercut by the intensity in his eyes. It was as though he was studying every inch of you, and his lips curved, like he knew exactly how captivating he found you.

You caught a brief exchange of glances between the two of them, each sizing up the other’s reaction, before they turned their focus back to you, their eyes following every step you took. Their shared gaze left you feeling bare, like they were both trying to pull you closer without needing to say a word.

“Well, well, here comes trouble,” Jake teased, his voice low and smooth, though the smile he wore was anything but innocent. He raised his glass to you, his eyes reflecting that warmth that always made you feel seen—but there was something else tonight, a sharper edge to the way he looked at you, as if he was waiting to see how you’d respond to their attention.

Heeseung’s smirk only deepened, a spark of mischief flickering in his gaze as he straightened a little, his posture shifting subtly closer. He kept his eyes locked on yours, every part of him seemed to radiate a daring energy, as though daring you to close the distance between you.

With a steadying breath, you made your way to the bar, fully aware of Jake and Heeseung's gazes. As you reached them, Heeseung leaned forward, elbows propped on the bar, his smirk never faltering, while Jake wasted no time slipping an arm around your waist, pulling you close with that effortless charm he wore so well.

"Dressed to impress,” Heeseung drawled, his tone laced with amusement as he gave you another lingering look, head tilting as if to take in every inch. “Gonna be a distraction all night, aren’t you?”

Jake tightened his hold on your waist, bringing you even closer, his lips dangerously close to your ear. “He’s just jealous because you look this good, and he’s stuck working.” His voice was smooth, and his breath sent a warm shiver down your neck. “Right, Heeseung?”

Heeseung scoffed but didn’t pull back, the gleam in his eyes only intensifying. “I think I’ll manage,” he shot back, but his eyes never left you, tracing the subtle way you leaned into Jake’s embrace. “Besides, it looks like you’re already in good hands.”

Feeling bold, you turned to face Heeseung fully, resting one hand on the counter as you smiled, the challenge in your eyes clear. “Is that a hint of jealousy I hear?”

He raised an eyebrow, a slow smile tugging at his lips. “Only if you’d do something about it,” he replied, his gaze unflinching, taunting. He reached over, his fingers brushing lightly over yours where they rested on the bar. “Think you could handle both of us?”

Before you could respond, Jake chuckled softly, his arm around you tightening, as he glanced over at Heeseung. “Oh, she can handle anything we throw at her,” he teased, his eyes locking on yours with a hint of something darker. “Right?”

You laughed softly, finding yourself delighting in their attention, the playful tension between them only adding to the thrill. Heeseung shook his head, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest, while Jake’s fingers absently traced along your waist, making it clear he wasn’t planning to let you go anytime soon.

You leaned closer to Jake, letting him feel the warmth of your smile against his cheek. “Oh, I can handle you two just fine,” you murmured, voice barely above a whisper, but you knew they both heard it. The shift in their expressions told you enough—they were both thoroughly captivated.

Heeseung exhaled a low laugh, eyes twinkling with intrigue, while Jake’s hand at your waist stilled, his grip firm, like he wasn’t about to let you out of his sight for the rest of the night.

Jake tilted his head just slightly, the corners of his mouth curving up in a half-smile. “Is that so?” he murmured, his voice low, almost daring. He let his gaze drift slowly over your face, down to your lips, and then back to your eyes.

Heeseung watched, clearly enjoying the exchange, a slow, amused grin spreading across his face. He leaned across the bar, his gaze locked on yours as he teased, “Guess we’ll have to test that out, then. Wouldn’t want you getting too comfortable.” His voice was smooth, the subtle challenge in his words matched by the spark in his eyes.

Feeling both their gazes, you couldn’t help the little smile that played on your lips. You leaned slightly closer to Jake, keeping eye contact with Heeseung as you replied, “Maybe it’s you two who won’t be able to keep up.”

Jake let out a breathy chuckle, but his eyes never left you, even as he responded, “We’ll see about that.”

Heeseung raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained but also intrigued, and he nodded in agreement, watching as Jake held you close. With an easy grin, he said, “I think you’ll keep us busy.” He reached out to hand you a drink, fingers brushing against yours in the brief exchange, his eyes lingering on you.

You took a sip, feeling their attention wrap around you like a warmth that made the crowded club fall away.

Just as Jake’s hand tightened on your waist, you felt a tug from behind—your friends, appearing at just the right moment, grinning as they coaxed you toward the dance floor.

“Come on!” they called, laughter in their voices. Before either Jake or Heeseung could react, you slipped from Jake’s hold with a wink. Both of them stared after you, looking mildly stunned—and maybe just a bit thrown off by how easily you’d gotten away. Jake tried to reach for you, a playful protest on his lips, but your friends swept you into their midst, pulling you into the rhythm of the music.

On the dance floor, you let yourself get lost in the energy, moving in time with the pulsing beat. You stole a glance back at the bar, where both Heeseung and Jake were watching intently, as if sizing up their next move. Heeseung raised his drink to you, that confident smirk still plastered on his face, while Jake looked torn between amusement and a slight, playful irritation at your escape.

Laughing, you lost yourself in the music, feeling their gazes follow your every move.

----

The night took an unexpected turn when one of your friends became a little too enthusiastic with the drinks. Before you knew it, she was outside, hunched over on the sidewalk, throwing up. You quickly moved to her side, pulling her hair back and rubbing her shoulder, doing your best to soothe her as she mumbled apologies.

Once she was done, the group decided it was best to get her home. You all piled into a car, the designated driver taking the wheel while the rest of you kept a close eye on your friend.

When you reached her place, you carefully helped her inside, guiding her up to her bedroom and laying her down, making sure she was comfortable. With her settled, someone found a stash of drinks in the kitchen, and before long, the vibe had lightened back up. One friend pulled out a karaoke machine, and soon everyone was singing loud, off-key renditions of your favorite songs, letting the night carry you all along.

As the hours ticked by, one by one, everyone found a cozy spot to curl up, and before you knew it, the house was filled with the soft sounds of snores and murmured dreams, a blur of a night settling into a peaceful sleep.

----

The next morning, you woke up with a pounding headache and the usual regret that came with a night like this. Squinting against the morning light filtering in through the window, you groaned, reaching for your phone. Your notifications were littered with messages and missed calls from both Jake and Heeseung. You smiled a little, heart warming at their worry, even if it made you feel a bit guilty.

You dialed Jake’s number, and he answered almost immediately. “Where are you?” he asked, his voice filled with relief and lingering worry. “Are you okay?”

"Yeah, I’m okay," you mumbled, rubbing your forehead. “I’m at my friend’s place. She got a bit… too drunk, so we crashed here for the night.”

Jake exhaled, sounding both relieved and a little exasperated. “Alright, just hang tight. I’ll come get you.”

You thanked him, already feeling a bit better just knowing he’d be there soon. After the call, you stumbled to the kitchen, grabbing a water bottle and downing some Advil. You checked on your friends, giving soft goodbyes to those who were half-awake and murmuring farewells to the ones still knocked out.

Stepping outside, you saw Jake’s car pull up, and you hurried over to climb in. As you slipped into the backseat, you noticed both Jake and Heeseung in the front seats, eyes full of concern as they looked you over.

“Good?” Jake asked, glancing up and down to check on you. You nodded, managing a small smile as he pulled away from the curb.

When you finally got back home, Jake parked and turned to open your door, but Heeseung beat him to it, sweeping you up in his arms so you wouldn’t have to walk barefoot on the pavement. You laughed, feeling a bit like royalty as Jake carried your heels and purse alongside.

Once inside, they led you straight to the bathroom, letting you shower and wash away the remnants of the night. As you closed the door, you couldn’t help but feel grateful, a smile spreading across your face as you let the hot water soothe away the morning’s aches.

After finishing your shower, you called out for one of them to bring you some clothes. “Hey, could you grab me something to wear?”

A moment later, Heeseung’s voice came through the slightly cracked bathroom door. “I got you.” You heard a rustling, and then he slid a pile of clothes through the gap. You reached out, taking them gratefully.

“Thanks!” you replied, quickly pulling on the comfy oversized shirt and sweatpants. Once you had dried your hair with a towel, you opened the bathroom door to find both Jake and Heeseung sprawled out on the couch, looking cozy under a soft blanket.

You joined them, settling down in the middle, feeling the warmth radiating from both of them. They shifted slightly, making room for you as you grabbed some popcorn from the bowl resting on Jake's lap. The familiar comfort of their presence wrapped around you like a warm hug, and you let out a content sigh as you nestled deeper into the cushions.

The movie played on, but your eyelids grew heavier by the minute. The soft light from the screen flickered in the dim room, casting gentle shadows over their faces. You leaned your head against Heeseung's shoulder, feeling his warmth seep into you.

As the movie continued, you felt Jake's hand brush against yours, and his fingers intertwined with yours, a comforting gesture that lulled you further into relaxation.

Eventually, the movie ended, and you barely noticed Jake turning it off. Heeseung glanced down at you, noticing how peaceful you looked, and he exchanged a knowing look with Jake. They both smiled softly before leaning back against the couch, pulling you with them.

Before long, the three of you were all asleep, the quiet hum of the world outside fading into a blissful silence as you cuddled together.

----

The atmosphere in your room was relaxed and comfortable as the three of you lounged together, the glow of fairy lights casting a soft ambiance. You felt a sense of warmth and belonging, but there was an unspoken question hanging in the air—what was this dynamic you had built with Jake and Heeseung?

After a while, you turned to them, curiosity piquing your interest. “So, what do we call this? This… thing we have going on?”

They both exchanged glances, a playful light dancing in their eyes before they climbed into your bed. Heeseung settled on your right side, while Jake nestled to your left, and you found yourself sandwiched between them.

“We like you a lot,” Heeseung confessed, his voice low and sincere, “and we’d love to have you for ourselves. But we also don’t want to see you with any other guy.”

Jake nodded, chiming in, “Yeah, same here. We both want you.” He paused, his expression serious. “At the end of the day, we’d rather share you than lose you to someone else.”

Your heart raced as you processed their words. You couldn’t help but smile, feeling warmth spread through you at their admissions. “But wouldn’t one of you get jealous of the other?”

“No,” Heeseung said, his tone firm yet gentle. “We both love you, and that’s what matters. You belong to both of us.”

As you gazed at them, a flutter of excitement and apprehension filled your chest. “I— I’ve been unsure about this. It feels wrong to like two friends at the same time.”

Jake pouted, tapping his lips thoughtfully. “Doesn’t seem wrong if we like you at the same time,” he reasoned, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

You found your gaze drawn to his lips, swallowing hard. The tension in the room shifted, and Heeseung noticed, a teasing smirk creeping onto his face. “Looks like someone’s interested,” he quipped, nudging your shoulder playfully.

“I am not—” you started to protest, but before you could finish, Jake leaned in, closing the gap between you. His lips pressed against yours, soft yet insistent, and you gasped in surprise before instinctively kissing him back.

The moment was electric, and as Jake deepened the kiss, Heeseung leaned closer, trailing kisses along your throat. The sensation sent shivers down your spine as he nipped playfully at your skin, and you couldn’t help but let out another gasp, caught between the two of them.

Jake pulled back from the kiss, his grin widening as his gaze landed on the marks Heeseung had left on your throat and the exposed skin of your shoulder. The contrast of their playful possessiveness sent a thrill coursing through you, and you felt heat rise to your cheeks.

“We have to show you that you’re ours,” he declared, his voice laced with a mix of mischief and determination.

Before you could fully process what that meant, both of them leaned in closer, their intentions clear. You gasped as Heeseung pressed his lips against your neck, his mouth warm and insistent as he began to leave his mark. Jake mirrored his actions on the other side, nipping and kissing a trail that made your head spin.

You whimpered at the sensation, the combined heat of their mouths igniting a fire deep within you. Your fingers tangled in their hair, gripping tightly as you succumbed to the intoxicating wave of pleasure and need. The soft sounds of your enjoyment filled the room, and you could hardly think straight as they lavished attention on your sensitive skin.

“Yours,” you breathed out, the word slipping from your lips as they continued their ministrations, creating a symphony of sweet tension and fervent desire. Each gentle tug and nibble sent shivers racing through you, and you could feel your heart pounding in rhythm with their touches.

“Just like this,” Heeseung murmured against your skin, his breath hot and teasing. “You’re ours.”

Jake's hands roamed down your arms, his fingers trailing along the exposed skin, amplifying the sensations coursing through you. The way they worked together, each touch calculated yet spontaneous, made you feel cherished and desired in a way you had never experienced before.

Heeseung's hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer as he pressed his lips against yours. You instinctively grabbed his bicep, fingers digging into the firm muscles as you deepened the kiss, losing yourself in the moment. It felt right; the heat between you was undeniable, intoxicating. His kisses were fervent, each one making you crave more, driving you to the brink of madness.

Meanwhile, Jake positioned himself on the other side, his fingers weaving into your hair as he leaned in to claim your now vacant lips as well. The sensation of his mouth on yours was electrifying, and you could feel the warmth radiating from his body. Your grip tightened around his neck, anchoring yourself as he kissed you with a mix of urgency and devotion.

In that tangled mess of limbs and kisses, they continued to explore every inch of your skin they could reach, marking you with their lips and leaving a trail of warmth in their wake.

Heeseung's kisses danced along your collarbone, trailing lower to your shoulder, each gentle nibble igniting a new spark of desire. His hands roamed your sides, fingertips brushing just beneath the hem of your shirt, teasingly inching upward as if he were mapping out every curve of your body.

Jake, on the other hand, his hands glided down your back, holding you against him as if he never wanted to let go. He would pull you closer, the heat radiating off him intoxicating. With each kiss he pressed to your lips, he’d angle your head just right, deepening the kiss and making you melt.

As Heeseung’s mouth found its way back to yours, he captured your lips in a heated kiss, his tongue teasingly brushing against yours. It was playful yet fervent, drawing soft moans from you as you surrendered to the sensations. Your hands were restless, instinctively roaming to their arms, gripping tightly as you sought to anchor yourself in the overwhelming pleasure.

With every caress, they exchanged knowing glances, a silent agreement to share this moment entirely. Jake leaned down, kissing a path from your shoulder to your neck, nipping lightly at the sensitive skin while Heeseung took his turn, trailing kisses down your jawline. You gasped at the sensations, feeling completely lost in the ecstasy of it all.

“We’ll take care of you.” Heeseung murmured between kisses, his breath hot against your ear.

Jake’s hand slipped beneath your shirt, his fingertips brushing against your bare skin, sending shivers coursing through your body. “Yeah, we’re not letting you out of our sight,” he added, his tone both playful and serious.

Your mind raced with thoughts, a delightful confusion enveloping you as you relished in their attention. All you could focus on was the pleasure they were giving you, the way their bodies enveloped you.

[professonalarttheclownfan]

Jealous

David x fem!reader

(I am obsessed with this man)

UPDATE-finally got round to editing it and making it a little better in my opinion.

You been hired as a part of the makeup team for the 3rd Terrfier having the first 2 be some of your favourite films, you were stoked beyond words.

The makeup and costuming department was a small due to a smaller budget. So you’d gotten the know the others well. It was the first day on set and you’d yet to meet any of the actors, getting the prosthetics ready, and talking through any final makeup changes with Damien.

You’d been given the golden ticket, working on the man himself, thee art the clown. Due to clashing schedules the cast read through was something you’d had to miss out on, so you really were a newbie. Having been in awe of David since Terrfier came out, getting to be so up close to him was a dream come true.

You’d come to set early to get set up and after talking with Damien, you grabbed your kit, laying out the things you needed and the order you’d use stuff in. Being able to be in the quiet was calming, your nerves were heightened, feeling like you were living in a dream. You were talented, but to be working with the likes of Damien and David had your head spinning.

A light knock pulled you out of your head, it was still slightly early but nothing major, still, the knock surprised you none the less.

“Come in” you called out, pushing your half empty kit bag on the the shelf. You hadn’t realised it was David that had knocked since you were stood with your back still facing the door.

“Thought I’d come say hey” his voice was gentle yet charming, you spun on your heels to face him, your cheeks turning up ward into a bright smile. There he was stood right there, within arms reach. You were taken aback at how truly handsome he was, you knew he was attractive from photos and panel videos but nothing like having him stand in-front of you in the flesh.

“Since you know we’re going to be spending hours a day together. Plus we never got to meet at the cast reading. I was kinda gutted you weren’t there. I love your work, especially that joker piece you did” he continued, letting out a small laugh.

“Hey! yeah, im y/n. It’s actually nice to finally meet you. I was so bummed I had to miss it. Im in shock that you know of my work! But thank you that really means alot!” You answered sticking your hand toward him, he returned the gesture. Gently placing his hand in yours and shaking it. You locked eye contact with the tall man, a blush rose to your cheeks, which in turn caused to look away.

You both clicked instantly, after light flirting and a conversation that seemed to flow like water, it was time to get him in the chair. This man was a charmer, you don’t know how you’d survive the duration of filming, you could already feel yourself gaining feelings for him.

~a couple of months into filming

You’d gotten to know David well, and he you. You two had become kind of inseparable. Finding that you both seemed to gravitate toward each other, even on days that David wasn’t filming you’d usually end up doing something together to get your and his mind off of work for a while. The early mornings and late nights you had together became the best part of the working day for both of you, although doing the makeup and taking the said makeup off was tedious, you and David got the trailer to yourselves and that time was filled with belly laughs and constant chatter between the two of you. Your feelings had developed for David, being around him so much just intensified them.

After filming finished, premiers and cons were beginning. Your name had gotten out there, you’d become as popular as the main cast especially due to all the content fans got from your and David’s outings.

~You’d been invited to a panel, along with David. You’d stood at the side of the stage. You’d never done anything like this before, your anxiety was through the roof, your knees shook as you waited shifting your weight from one foot to the other. You felt a firm squeeze on your shoulder you knew instantly who it was, David. He kept his arm over your shoulders whilst he stood beside you. As if he was magic, he could tell how nervous you were about the whole thing. You appreciated him.

“You’re gonna smash it pretty lady” he whispered to you, pulling you into a hug, he rested his chin on top of your head not letting go until he was called up onto the stage.

It was your turn, you tapped the tip of your middle finger against the pad of your thumb a habit you’d picked up to replace picking at the skin around your fingers when you got anxious, the crowd was far larger then you’d expected. You took the seat next to David, and plopped your self on the chair behind the long table.

The interviewer was pretty, no. Drop dead gorgeous. And you could tell she had eyes for David, you swallowed down the pit you had in your stomach. The flirting was obvious, she batted her lashes, pushed her arms to reveal more of her cleavage, all the text book things. You didn’t hate her, why would you? but you envied that she could probably have David right there and then if she wanted too. You were quiet on the stage, you’d usually be able to keep your anxiety in check and David picked up on this instantly, he hated seeing you struggling, he wanted to hug you, comfort you, but he couldn’t so instead he hooked his pinky finger on to yours under the table, if anything it helped calm him too.

If asked a question you’d answer and thank fans when ever they came up. You were extremely grateful and loved every single one of them, they meant you could be sat were you were today. But due to your inner turmoil you tried your best to stay composed remaining polite and appreciative but quiet. Jealousy bubbled, even though he sat there with his pinky intertwined with yours you’d convinced yourself he only viewed you as a friend, he was a charming beautiful soul, you hated being like this you were a grown adult. But with it mixed in with the shame and the embarrassment, for thinking about David romantically. Why would a man such as himself glance your way, when he was surrounded by such interesting, gorgeous women?

A fan had walked up to the mic situated in the audience, you were away with your thoughts and you hadn’t realised the fan had asked a question directed toward just you, having the majority of fans ask questions primarily for David you hadn’t realised this one was for you. You felt David unlink his pinky with yours and gently place his hand on your wrist, David gave your arm a slight stroke with his thumb to get your attention, offering you a reassuring smile whilst tilting his head ever so slightly toward the fan.

“Hey, Sorry! Could you repeat that? I didn’t quite hear” you smiled at the fan, feeling bad for not listening.

“Of course! hi I’m kay! im such a huge fan of you! So obviously me and the fans want to know what was your favourite thing to do in your down time when you weren’t working on the film? We’ve seen all the photos of your guys days out but I really wanna know!” Kay finished, it was an odd question but a sweet one at that with all the photos circulating of you and the cast hanging out, fans get curious.

“Hmm, probably just catching a film with David and sometimes other cast members every so often! Or me and David would find the BEST takeout places if we were filming in the same location for a while so we’d always get takeout then build Lego sets together. Elliot would join in when he wasn’t too busy too! Me and David also have a shared love of theatre so we’d catch shows together! Especially musicals. I think having down time when filming a project like this is highly important! being around guts and gore is so so fun but day in day out can get tiring”

The fan seemed super happy with the answer you gave, but what you did miss out was any time you spent with David was your favourite when working or not, even when the job load was stressful David made it all feel okay again.

You were desperate to get off of the stage, your emotions were starting to drain you and so was your social battery and thankfully the panel was coming to a finish,

“We want to thank the panel today! to the wonderful David and Y/n!” The lady said, the crowd erupted with applause, you thanked the crowd and left the stage. The interviewer nodded her head toward you as you walked off, you returned the gesture. Once off the stage you turned to wait for David releasing she’d swooped in to give David a goodbye hug, the hug lasted a while, and with that you walked away you needed air.

Mentally beating yourself up for ever thinking there was something special between you and him, surprised at yourself for just walking away, as you’d usually wait for David or vice versa. But you needed a breather. Being in love with this man was too much. Soon as the press and cons were over you’d have to go back to your old life anyway, a life that was a million worlds away from David’s . His new found stardom would mean, you’d soon become just another makeup artist he’s worked with. And it hurt.

You’d managed to make your way outside avoiding the large crowds of horror fans by navigating the labyrinth of corridors in the venue,“Hey, y/n wait up!” David called out to you, you hadn’t realised David was behind you, his tall frame taking large fast steps toward you making his way through the door that was propped open.

“Why’d you speed off? I saw you wait for me off stage for a sec then you vanished. I was gonna ask if you wanted to sneak off and go get coffee, luckily I’d seen you through the window” he smiled down at you once he caught up, your face was flush and red. It’s like you couldn’t even look at him, you’d made your self feel like a child with a one way crush.

“Just needed some air, big crowds, it’s all new to me.” You answered him, you both walked in sync with each other. You allowed yourself to take deep breaths, it was all abit overwhelming. From being around people you now considered family every day, to falling in love, to having to do press and premieres. To knowing it was all going to go back to how it was before again.

“Wanna sit?” He gestured toward a bench, and you obliged. You had seemed to manage to find a quiet haven away from the craziness that was just beyond a wall.

“Y/n, what’s really going on? I know you were anxious but on that stage, it’s like you’d lost your sparkle. And I know for a fact you can handle your anxiety like a badass.” he was so in tuned with people, especially yourself.

“I don’t know, I guess I was in my own head. Which I shouldn’t have been. The fans had come from far and wide. And I sat there, like an idiot” you looked toward your feet, kicking at the dry, dead leaves that lay on the floor.

“well, despite what’s going on in that head. You did well, I could tell you were struggling with something but the fact you got up there and did it anyways. I’m proud of you” he once again smiled at you, nudging you lightly with his shoulder.

“Thank you David, I’m so proud of what we’ve all created. But those crowds dude. They’re intense” you said whilst letting out a long breath,

“Y/n, wanna know something funny, the interviewer slipped her number in my pocket whilst we were leaving the stage! That’s an old school trick if I ever did see one.” He laughed, suddenly the jealousy came bubbling back in your stomach again, you gave a pathetic attempt at a laugh back trying to hide the hurt but failing miserably , you were never an actor.

“Bless her, I’m sure some horror film buff will make her happy” David said as he took the piece of paper out of his pocket and crumpled it in his fist. You looked at him,

“Your not going to text her?” You questioned, genuinely confused.

David looked at you, raising an eyebrow, “Why would I want to text another woman when I’ve got the woman I want right next to me.”

Your eyebrows knit together,

“Y/n, have you not caught on yet? You think I let just anyone paint my nails” he stated, as if the question was rhetorical.

you chuckled, genuine this time, “Yes David, because you’re so sweet if someone asked if they could paint your nails you’d let them” smiling at him, he was a man to be cherished.

“Well that’s besides the point, y/n. I am absolutely crazy about you. Silly. Head over heels or what ever you want to call it. I’m in love with you. And I need to tell you now, before you have to go back, other wise I’d never do it.”

You grabbed his arm, hooking yours onto his, relaxing into the bench and crossing your leg over the other in the process. A smile so wide slapped on your face you’d look manic to anyone walking by.

“Good, because im in love with you too. And thank god, because it means I don’t have to be jealous anymore” you smirked at him, as he turned to look at you, a grin plasters on his face too.

“Jealous nelly are we? I could tell you weren’t fond of that interviewer” he said as he leaned in, to finally kiss you.

[grillthegridmydear]

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: 　Love You Like A Love Song - Part One :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

F1 Grid X Reader

The grid reacts to a love song you wrote about them.

Part Two

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Max Verstappen

✧Wildest Dreams - Taylor Swift

Max was almost always found on the race track, if not in real life then in the simulator with team redline or just solo streaming. It was his comfort zone, what he knew best. Stepping out of that comfort usually had Max counting down the seconds until it was over and he could go back home to you and the cats, but today was different seeing as he had followed you to the studio on this particular winter morning. You were so secretive on the jet ride to London, furiously scribbling in your leather notebook that was falling apart from being under constant strain of ripped out pages, daily use and the odd time that Sassy got her claws on it when it was left out in odd spaces in their home.

"Tell me again why I had to be here today if I am not allowed to hear the new songs yet?" he mumbled with a cheeky grin as he followed you through the door out of the cold and rainy weather, the recording studio was warm at least. Elliot, your producer, got there before them and had boosted the heat in the building to knock the chill out of your bones before what promised to be a long day in front of the mic. "Because we only have one more song to record Maxie, and I want to know what you think of it." You never really meant to be secretive about your music but the nerves of releasing this particular album were leagues higher than in the past since it was your first studio album since you and Max had started dating a year ago.

You met on night two of the European leg of your last tour, Victoria was a big fan of your music and had dragged Tom and Max to your Amsterdam show. His only exposure to you prior to that night had been through the walls of his sisters home when he came to see his nephews but seeing you on stage that night was the nail in the coffin on his single life. Being the world famous racing driver that he was gave him the chance to meet you after the show and the rest was history.

Which led him to where he was today, sitting on the ridiculously comfortable couch behind the production table watching you working on the final piece of the puzzle that would make up your newest record.

"Alright, lets get playback and do a first run through." Elliot prompted you through the microphone that fed his voice through the soundproof booth into your headset. One nod of acknowledgement from you and the playback started, Max could hear the live feed through the speakers for the first time and the drum beat caused him to sit forward with his full attention.

The last thing he was expecting was the lyrics that came out through those speakers,

He's so tall and handsome as hell

He's so bad, but he does it so well

You had always joked about him being your muse since the week you started dating, when you would be on dates and he would see you stop dead in your tracks to pull out that notebook.

Say you'll remember me

Standing in a nice dress

Staring at the sunset, babe

Red lips and rosy cheeks

Say you'll see me again

Even if it's just in your wildest dreams, ah-ah, ha

He felt the flush in his cheeks and the grin rise on his cheeks before he even had the chance to fully process what was happening. The song you were most excited to show him that you couldn't even wait until the album was finished, it was about him.

After the initial recording session Elliot busied himself with the hundreds of buttons, sliders and dials on the panel in front of him, you crouched to get your water bottle, ready to go again if needed but Max, he couldn't take his eyes off of you even if he tried. When the ok was given from Elliot you crept out from behind the door of the booth with a shy smile on your face as you made your way to stand in front of him, awaiting the reaction of the love of your life.

"so what do you think?"

Max could barely get the words out between the kisses he was peppering all over your face and neck.

"Vic is going to be so jealous I got a song."

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✧Lando Norris

✧Nonsense - Sabrina Carpenter

Your Vegas show was strategically planned to fall the day before Lando had to be stuck in the paddock all weekend for the first Las Vegas Grand Prix, which led to many of the drivers and their girlfriends to fill up the VIP section of the theatre that housed hundred of excited fans waiting excitedly to see you take the stage.

You and Lando had known each other for years, being in the same year in school up until your GCSE's when he had left to focus on racing and you had moved from England to the states to pursue your music career. You were childhood sweethearts that stood the test of time and the long distance to end up where you are today, both living in Monaco during the off season with you accompanying Lando to each and every race in the last year, spending all your spare time in one of two places, the studio or cuddled up in Lando's arms in the privacy of your apartment. But with your first full studio album skyrocketing you through the charts a world tour soon followed and it had been a few weeks since your schedules had synced up enough to allow you both some real time to spend together. Lando had never been so thankful to have the racing season coming to a close in a few weeks, and with your last 5 shows coming in the following days to wrap up the tour he was ecstatic to have you all to himself for winter break.

His conversation with Oscar and Lily was cut short when the familiar piano notes of 'Emails I Can't Send' ring out through the venue and the screams and cheers of everyone in the room make a dumb grin break out on his face. Your figure appearing on the stage in your iconic tour outfit that Lando was obsessed with, but what made his smile bigger was the slight changes in the style of the outfit that graced your body on the stage, your dress that was usually a hot pink or lavender colour was changed to the oh so familiar papaya colour he knew as his team colours and your white boots had the number 4 emblazoned on them in his iconic neon yellow branding on the chunky heel stem.

The night was electric as he watched you up there, giving the crowd what he would say is the night of their lives as song after hit song was performed with your infectious talent and energy.

Right as the final notes of 'Sue Me' rang out to the crowd he expected the show to end as he knew the set list by heart from being to a few shows at the beginning of the tour, but you weren't leaving the stage and as you started speaking to the crowd his fixed gaze that had been watching you the whole night was broken as he heard the hushed conversation of some of the WAGs that were surrounding him, he barely had time to notice that Alexandra, Lily and Rebecca were looking at him with shit eating grins on their faces and Carlos was recording him on his phone before you stole his attention again.

"So guys, my boyfriend is actually in the crowd tonight." was all you managed to say before the fans cheered, hundreds of faces looking right at him as you let out that beautiful laugh he loves so much before continuing. "Lando is racing in Vegas this weekend and I've been on tour so I haven't been able to see him in like, forever. But the cool thing about that is he hasn't been able to hear this next song, same as you guys."

An unfamiliar melody started to loop through the venue as the cheers of fans kicked up once again. Pure confusion spread across his face as you continued to introduce the new song. "So this is my new single on the deluxe edition of the album and I hope you all enjoy it."

The room was electric as you began to sing, and Lando very quickly realised the reason why everyone of the drivers and their partners surrounding him had the same reaction, because Lando was not expecting to have a song about him drop that very night, but god was he glad it was.

I'll be honest

Lookin' at you got me thinkin' nonsense

Cartwheels in my stomach when you walk in

And when you got your arms around me

Ooh, it feels so good I had to jump the octave

His face felt like it was on fire but his ego was growing by the second.

I'm talkin' all around clock

I'm talkin' hope nobody knocks

I'm talkin' opposite of soft

I'm talkin' wild, wild thoughts

You gotta keep up with me

I got some young energy

I caught the L-O-V-E

How do you do this to me?

The song began to end and the last lines of the outro had Lando impossibly excited for the night to end so he finally got to have you to himself again.

he loves me so good its downright heinous

this songs P1 in my boyfriends playlist

what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas

Oh yeah, he was definitely glad he got you all to himself.

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Oscar Piastri

✧Human - Dodie

University had been consuming what felt like your entire existence, barely having enough time or energy to apply to anything that didn't involve coursework, especially since you had your contemporary song writing final project due in a few days. Life had consisted of spending days locked away in your dorm room in front of your travel keyboard trying to construct a melody that felt lightyears away from you.

"You can't keep rotting away in there you know, I don't think we will get our deposit back if you melt into the carpet."

Hattie had been your best friend from the day you started preschool, your entire lives had been spend joined at the hip, you were unable to be separated in your younger years, down to the first days of school every year which were spent in the Piastri home's kitchen eating a breakfast that Nicole had made while you and Hattie chattered so loud that the whole house was brought to life with your laughter. Your tight bond had extended to today, where you both sat in the shared kitchen of your university housing, cups of tea decorating the table along with a pair of laptops and more sheet music blank than filled.

This had easily become the hardest assignment of your degree for you, where Hattie seemingly had no issue and was just finishing the arrangements of her own work before she got to submit her assignment and go home for summer break, you on the other hand felt like smacking your head against the wall, your fractured concentration being split even further by the commentary coming from your phone that was propped up in front of 6 crumpled pieces of composition paper, the Spanish Grand Prix well underway on the other side of the world, where Hattie's brother (who just so happened to be your boyfriend) was in the final laps of his race weekend.

"I know, I cant for the life of me figure out what's wrong. Nothing I've written feels good enough and I really don't want to fail this assignment. The last thing I need is to be back here in three months to repeat this class."

The voices that seeped from your phone announced that with that final lap the race was over and glancing at the chart that took up the left side of the screen a smile broke out on your face. Hattie let her curiosity get the better of her as she rounded the table to watch over your shoulder. "P2, He will be happy with that."

Your whole body itched for a change of scenery after a further 30 minutes with no progress so while Hattie started on dinner for you both you slipped on a jacket and stuffed your notebook into your pocket, heading outside for some fresh air. The weather had cooled only slightly compared to the usual stifling Australian heat which allowed you to sit under the awning of the bike sheds outside the building. Your phone rings not 2 minutes after you settle into a comfortable position, a the familiar contact flashing on the screen as you swipe to answer.

"Congratulations on your podium, Osc." Your words rang out through the empty courtyard as familiar breathing was heard in your ear, the boy you had loved since your childhood clearly having settled in his drivers room after his race. "Thank you, how is your assignment going? Still giving you trouble?" Your audible groan at the mention of the demonic workload hanging over your week was met with warm laughter on the other end of the phone. "That bad huh?"

"I don't know why but I haven't been able to focus enough to even get a melody going, everything I've tried sounds like it was written by The Wiggles." The snort of laughter that rang through her ears eased the stress that held her body hostage by the second and her own laughter broke out to match. "Hey, everyone loves The Wiggles, I think you would make a very cute Wiggle personally."

Oscar's words had her breaking up laughing this time. "Yeah, you would say that." Her voice taunted him over the line, memories flooding her mind of the ridiculous stories that Nicole had told her when she and Oscar had first gotten together when he came back after graduating from his British boarding school, about Oscar being five years old and in love with the Yellow Wiggle at that stage in his life. "I know you can make something amazing, everything you write is so incredible but you need to be kinder to yourself love, you're only human after all."

Oscar's advice rang through her mind as she ended the call with him, his presence being required to go to his post race debrief before he could go to the airport to fly back home to start the summer break with her. Before she could blink the floodgates in her mind finally let loose the creativity that she had been craving since she began the writing process a week ago. Sprinting up the stairs she had just enough time to grab the bowl of spaghetti Hattie had prepared her with a rushed thank you thrown over her shoulder.

An hour and a half later she finally submitted the dreaded assignment and packed her microphone away with the rest of her minimal recording equipment, quickly attaching the audio file to a text and sending it to Oscar before the night caught up with her and she drifted off to sleep in the navy blue OP81 hoodie that she wore to death.

The next morning was hectic, full of packing and cleaning as both girls got ready to pack up Hattie's car and get on the road, with the semester finally over and the promise of a few weeks on the road with Oscar melting the last of her stress. In the chaos of the morning she didn't get to check her messages until noon, where she was met with two texts, one from Logan and one from Oscar.

Oscars message was opened first, a quick 'I knew you could do it <3' sent in the middle of the night, considering the time difference it must have been when he was getting on his flight. The message from Logan showed a video of Oscar sitting on the plane, her voice playing through the speakers of Oscars phone as he stared at it with pure adoration in his eyes.

I want to give you your grin So tell me you can't bear a room that I'm not in Paint me in trust I'll be your best friend Call me the one This night just can't end Oh Oh, I'm so human We're just human

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George Russell

✧Bewitched - Laufey

"Remind me why I'm doing this again, this feels like something that I shouldn't be allowed to do."

The ball of stress that stood in front of George pacing in a midnight blue evening gown would have been the funniest thing in the world to him if he was looking at anyone in the world other than you, his beautiful girlfriend who looked about 3 seconds away from passing out. This seemed like an appropriate time as any for you to suddenly develop stage fright, because you were used to busking on the streets of London with your guitar in your teenage years, eventually moving up to small, intimate gigs in your early 20s to crowds that seemed smaller than a classroom, this was in a whole different ballpark. George met you when you both attended a charity event three years before that was funding for sick children across the UK, part of what drew him to you was your unwavering confidence that you walked through life with, he supposed that musicians had to be born with a certain level of audacity but you were unlike anyone he had ever met before, which is why your anxious behaviour was such a shock to the system.

It eventually became too much for George to take as he stood from his seat in the dressing room and held you firm by the hips, halting you from burning a permanent line in the ridiculously expensive carpet that lined the floors. That seemed to do the trick as you finally managed to take a deep enough breath to ease the tension in your body long enough to look him in the eyes. "What if it's shit Georgie?"

Your statement pulled a chuckle from him before he he could think to stop it. "Impossible love, you've never been shit at anything you've ever done." His reassurance sent a visible comfort through your body as the rest of your muscles relaxed. "Except for padel, you are brutal at padel." George took the laugh that lit up the room as a good sign, god he loved your laugh, he once described it as reminding him of sleigh bells at Christmas which got a good laugh out of Lando and Alex, they still hadn't let him live it down, not that he minded much.

The knock at the door sent your body rigid once more as the stage hand that had been sent for you poked his head around the door to give you a 5 minute warning until you took to the stage. It was unlike anything you had ever done before, George supposed that being invited to perform at one of the most prestigious concert halls in the UK was daunting to begin with, but being asked to perform at their anniversary celebration that was being attended by what seemed like every important person they could think of, royalty included, well George was impressed that this was the extent of your nerves. A big deal indeed.

"You'll be watching me the whole time?"

Your request was endearing if unnecessary, because there were very few moments in his life now that George was not totally enraptured by you, he had been the muse of many memes in his time but his favourite had to be all the times that journalists and fans alike had compiled evidence of the many times that George was probably supposed to be paying attention to something, a meeting, a conversation, but his eyes never left you. "I'll be in the wings the entire time my love, now go, break a leg."

Heavy velvet curtains hid him from sight as the lights faded on to reveal you, centre stage and framed by a beautiful orchestra. The polite applause was so different from the screams of fans that he was used to hearing on a race weekend, but it set the tone as the orchestra began to play, now George was familiar with pretty much every song you had ever written due to how often your voice could be heard through your shared home, but this song was completely new, you had kept it under lock and key deeming it a surprise. As your voice joined the strings and woodwinds he began to realise that this was a wonderful surprise indeed.

You bewitch me Every damn second you're with me I try to think straight But I'm falling so badly, I'm coming apart You wrote me a note, cast a spell on my heart And bewitched me Bewitch You bewitched me

As the audience broke out into thunderous applause and you took your bow, George took a moment to pat the small square box in the pocket of his suit jacket, the box that held the promise of forever.

Bewitched was the only word word to describe him.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Logan Sargeant

✧Pancakes for Dinner - Lizzy Mc Alpine

In the last few years Logan had been away from his family and friends during the Fourth of July weekend. It was never easy, he spent most of his childhood surrounded by all the people he loved most, with barbecue food and football on the beach filling up the day, the celebrations starting early in the morning and ending with the insane firework display at night. They were some of his favourite memories, the ones that comforted him on the days and nights when his career started to feel like a noose around his neck that tightened with every race weekend that didn't go according to plan.

Which is why he was so happy that this year, the race calendar perfectly bordered his beloved holiday, with Austria ending mere hours before he found himself on a flight back to Florida to celebrate on his week off before Silverstone. Seeing his family was a welcome reprieve from his hectic life, but seeing you was the cherry on top of a perfect week.

The firepit that roared at the beginning of the night had died down to a comforting glow, the beach behind his family home now empty apart from you and him, the rest of the guests gone inside to continue the festivities in the house. "It's good to have you back Lo, I miss you a lot when you're off living the dream" your voice carries across the space between you as you messed with the guitar that sat on your lap, beer forgotten at your feet as you strummed random chords. You had always been his best friend ever since you both met at a karting track as kids, he used to race with your brother before he decided that baseball was his calling, but you and Logan were attached at the hip until he left to move to England to take his career to another level. Now your friendship consisted of facetime calls, battling with time zone differences instead of a 10 minute walk to your house. "You should agree to come to more races then, you know you're invited to basically every one right?"

In reality he knew that globetrotting with him to a new country every fortnight wasn't that simple. You were a veterinary nurse in Florida and he was a racing driver, both of your schedules too hectic to allow for any real time spent together that didn't involve him making the trip back to his hometown. "You really want to put me and your boss on the same continent, I'm too pretty to go to jail!"

The two of you busted up into laughter at the idea of James Vowels being unfortunate enough to be close enough to you that you could finally give the man a piece of your mind. "I do miss Lily though, so might have to take some time off for Austin this year." The fake offended noise that left his lips made you laugh hard enough that Logan was sure his neighbours could hear you. He was sure that the only bond that could rival the one you shared with him was the one that you held with his teammates girlfriend, the fact that you had spent more time at the golf course with Lily this year than you had seeing him face to face sparked emotions in him that he wasn't quite ready to acknowledge.

"What are you playing there?"

The sly smile that crept up onto your face, illuminated by the firelight made his heart stutter, your answer didn't betray your emotions as you started strumming the melody more clearly.

"I wrote you something."

Logan swore his pulse started up in double time as you met his eyes. You had played guitar since you were eight years old but your own songs had been secret for as long as he can remember. But something in the moment caused you to let him into a part of your life he was sure he would never see.

"Play it for me."

The world around them was muffled and felt a million miles away as you nodded before training your eyes on the black ocean in front of you both. Lyrics flowing from you before you changed your mind.

I wanna eat pancakes for dinner I wanna get stuck in your head I wanna watch a T.V. show together And when we're under the weather we can watch it in bed I wanna go out on the weekends I wanna dress up just to get undressed I think that I should probably tell you this In case there is an accident And I never see you again So please save all your questions for the end And maybe I'll be brave enough by then

Laughter from the house behind you both broke the electric energy that filled the air.

"So? What do you think?"

Logan could only hope his kiss was worth a thousand words.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Alex Albon

✧Juno - Sabrina Carpenter

There wasn't a person alive that believed the joke that Alexander Albon was the biggest WAG in the world than the man himself. While he spent his days driving his Williams car in the midfield of the F1 grid he was more than aware that you kissed him good morning every day you spent together, only to go and play a sold out concert to a stadium of adoring fans, of which Alex was your biggest.

He still found himself pinching his arm whenever he saw you, either on stage playing the global superstar or in the comfort of your own home playing with your puppy Juniper. It seemed uncharacteristic of him when he slid into your DM's one night after seeing a concert with his sisters, but fate apparently had his cards picked out in his favour when you visited a race a few weeks later as a guest of Red Bull and he got to meet you in person, the rest was history as you had been dating the Thai driver ever since.

The distance wasn't always easy but this particular summer break lined up perfectly with the end of the US leg of your most recent tour, which is how you both ended up spending your three week break in Bali, completely wrapped up in each other with no work interruptions.

Until today that is.

His place in your shared bed gave him the perfect view of you pacing the balcony of the villa that had been rented for the duration of your stay. His eyes easily following your body as it appeared in the doorway before disappearing just as quick, back and forth as you spoke to your management team on the phone, a call which was hitting the forty minute mark, causing his patience to wear thin. Luckily just before the call was about to hit an hour in length you ended it and your figure bounding back into the room caused him to sit up against the headboard. You grabbed your laptop from your bag before sliding back into bed, lips meeting his before you settled in and began furiously searching through the files on your desktop.

"what part of vacation do they not understand?" he groaned, his face finding the crook of your neck as you let out a laugh, nudging his side.

"That was Marcus, Short and Sweet drops in an hour."

Alex could feel the excitement vibrating through your body. Your most recent album had been in the works for months and while he usually got to live through the entire process with late night writing sessions and studio visits between races, you had been oddly secretive when it came to this one. He was excited for you, he loved your voice and your music was what had brought you together so seeing you continue to make the music that made you so happy made the challenges that came with your relationship worth it.

A soft "aha" pulled him out of his daydream as you pulled up the folder that contained the songs. He sat up again, ready for the full listening party that he was so used to at this point. Which is why his proud grin turned a tad confused as you dragged the cursor down to the third to last track on the album, his question died on his tongue as you pressed play on the file titled Juno (A.A<3) and the music started to pour through the speakers of your laptop.

Oh, I know you want my touch for life If you love me right, then who knows? I might let you make me Juno You know I just might (Might) Let you lock me down tonight One of me is cute, but two though? Give it to me, baby You make me wanna make you fall in love

His ears burned as the song ended and by the look on your face he was reacting exactly how you wanted.

"So? What do you think?"

Your laptop tumbled onto a stray cushion that found its way onto the floor, as he tackled you back onto the sheets. laughter filling the room.

Thank god for the end of the tour.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Part two will be up asap. Requests are open.

Hope you enjoyed!

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

[fallenisded]

Baby, it’s cold outside…

Pairing: Sunarin x an absolutely downbad (writer) barista!reader <3

a/n: what is up chat, its been two years since i last posted a little something. Im going through it.. 🫠 And tumblr sunarinxreader tag is lacking right now,,, so here’s a little something while an exam thats going to determine my future is literally just a week away :3

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The soft chime of the bell that hung above the door signals the departure of the last customer of the warm, coffee scented cafe. You stood behind the counter and thanked the stars internally. That guy has been sitting in the corner for hours since he first came, thank god he finished whatever he has going on with him.

“Oh, he finally left huh?” The Manager came out of his little camping spot and chuckled softly when he saw his only still checked barista deflated at the same spot they stood at, completely drained from acting all cheery for service. “You betcha he left. If not, I would have forced him out myself by blasting Mariah Carey obnoxiously.”

Right after saying that, it came back as quickly to bite your ass. A tall lanky guy entered the cafe, with that stupid jingle of a chime that you’ve heard more that you can count on for the entire day today. Looks like the poor barista really needed to blast Mariah Carey now. You really looked like you wanted to choke the living daylights out of..oh wait..why is he kinda…

“Hi, sorry. This place isn’t closing anytime soon right?” Well, technically no, because they would close at 10. Now let’s take a look at the time, oh! It’s 9:48. Yeah, totally. Just when they were going to open your mouth to answer the gorgeously handsome, jaw dropping man that seemingly just came out of a romance shoujo, the manager cut you off by a second. “Don’t worry, we can still serve one last customer,” What the fuck.

“Thanks, can I have a mint macchiato? Hot,” A mint macchiato. At 9:48 at night. On Christmas Eve. Just who is this man? The manager immediately enters in the order without even a slight hesitation. “And to who?” You could practically see yourself banging your head onto the coffee machine. Is this really a good idea, Mr Manager??

“Suna,” Okay nevermind. Not only is his appearance an eye candy, even his name sounds hot. “Alright, our lovely barista here will call out to you when they’re done with your drink,” the receipt machine prints out the paper slip after this greek carved Suna taps his card onto the card reader. You glared at the manager when he mentioned you, muttering curses underneath your breath as you positioned yourself at the coffee machine to make the espresso. 

The familiar aroma of the espresso beans filled your senses as you grumpily clicked the filter onto the machine, letting it brew. You got out the proper cup and drizzled it in peppermint syrup. Getting out the milk from the fridge to make the foam, you noticed Suna was watching your every movement over the little glass panel that separated the two of you. Most of the time, this would be called creepy. But when it’s him, it’s strangely flustering. Could you imagine a drop dead gorgeous guy is just watching over you as you make his drink? There’s just something so intimate and domestic about it.

“S-Suna,” You stuttered out after assembling the drink. The flustering got to you. After this, you are going to clock out and this embarrassing act of yours is going to haunt you until the next day of Christmas. Suna’s cold fingers accidentally grazed onto yours when he went to get his MINT MACCHIATO, letting you get goosebumps everywhere. He’s abnormally cold. Must’ve been outside. Who are we kidding, of course it’s outside. “Thanks,” And he seemed to catch their stutter with that disgustingly dreamy smirk of his. He brings the cup to his slightly chapped lips to take a sip, satisfied with the taste, he lets out a sigh that looks like it was kept inside for too long. 

Instead of moving to sit at one of the many comfortable seats that’s prepared for the participants, he just stood there, leaning on the self-collecting counter like he’s taking a photo for a modelling agency. The manager was long forgotten about as these two just stood there in silence while Suna enjoyed his drink. 

For the barista, it felt awkward to watch a man they found so attractive drinking the drink they made.

For Suna Rintarou? He liked watching the expressions and how awkward they can get even though they were grumpy while prepping his drink for him. He found it adoring.

He didn’t know what made him rush into the cafe. But what he does know is how much this barista attracted him when he saw them all deflated on the counter when he stood outside the cafe, on his phone with an annoying twin on the other line. With snow landing in his fluffy brown hair and on the shoulder’s of his coat.

“Tsumu, I’ll call you back later. This person is pretty cute,” That was all he said before hanging up.

“Sorry if I stopped you from going back home. I know it’s Christmas Eve and all.”

“Huh?”

Suna turned around to face you properly, he locked eyes with you, making your breath hitch. Holy fuck, his eyes are so beautiful.

“Excuse me?” HIs voice dragged them out of your own head. Wait, why does his face seem a little more flushed than before?

“You just called me beautiful..?” He chuckled softly. This time, it was your turn to feel your cheeks get warmer. Ding, you just said your thoughts out loud. You just dug your own little grave of embarrassment. “Oh my god.”

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a/n: WOOOOOOO I FINISHED TYPING THIS IN AN HOUR GRWAWWWWWWW

[spaceottery]

Petals and Flames // Rengoku x reader // Pt. 1

pairing: Rengoku Kyojuro x female!reader word count: 4600k (i´m sorry) a/n.: here goes my first real post and fanfic! I´m so nervous lmao but I hope you can enjoy this story! I´m already thinking about a pt 2, so hopefully, this will reach as many Rengoku simps as possible! Also: I got the picture from @mamikozzz on Tumblr! I do not know if this is a fanart of theirs or actually a manga panel, but nonetheless, it does not belong to me! c: plot: you and rengoku meet for the first time! i´m sure there is no demon you need to be saved from! warnings: small mentions of blood (regular Demon Slayer-esque injuries, nothing wild)

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You strolled through the marketplace, a basket hanging from your arm filled with various vegetables and fruits. The sun was high in the sky, casting a gentle warmth over everything. You admired the vibrant colors of the produce and the cheerful chatter of the townsfolk. It was a peaceful day, one that felt like a small respite from the more challenging aspects of life.

Earlier today, you had left your sister Naoko in charge of your family's stall, where you sold various kinds of flowers, arrangements and bouquets. Usually, despite her only being thirteen years of age, she was able to handle herself quite well, so you thought nothing of it. It’s how you two managed life every other week as well. 

But as you approached your stall, you noticed that an unusually large crowd gathered around it today. While some people pointed fingers and tried to maintain their laughter, others had a mix of curiosity and concern written on their faces.  

Pushing through the crowd, you finally reached the front and saw what the commotion was about: Your sister was standing on a crate, trying to manage a small, unruly group of children who seemed fascinated by the colorful flower arrangements. Eyes wide, they were tugging at the ribbons and petals, much to her frustration. It seemed like every time she tried to get a word in, there was yet another vase to be caught or another arrangement to be put out of reach for damage control. 

You had to admit, the sight amused you. Still, you had to do something and help her. Trying to regain control of the situation, you stepped forward, but just as you did, someone else beat you to it. A tall figure with bright, fiery hair stepped into the throng, his presence commanding immediate attention.

Rengoku Kyojuro, the Flame Hashira, stood there with a gentle smile on his face. Despite the chaos, his demeanor was calm and reassuring. He knelt down to the children's level, his voice warm and friendly as he spoke to them.

"Hello there, little ones," he said, his tone soft yet carrying a sense of authority. "It looks like you're all very interested in these beautiful flowers."

The children looked up at him with wide eyes, momentarily forgetting about the flowers as they took in his impressive presence. Rengoku’s smile never faltered as he began to gently redirect their attention, helping your sister regain control.

When the immediate commotion settled, you approached him with a mix of relief and curiosity. "Thank you so much for your help," you said, smiling gratefully.

The tall man turned to face you, his eyes warm and kind. "It was my pleasure. I couldn’t stand by and watch such a lovely display of flowers being damaged like that."

After the crowd had finally dispersed and your sister had regained her composure, you took a moment to thank the man once again, bowing down a bit. He had a striking figure; clothed in a white haori with a distinctive flame motif, a sword tugged to his side, golden hair which seemed to catch the sunlight, giving him an almost ethereal appearance, standing tall and proud, with a wide, friendly smile on his face - he was a hard one to miss, and quite handsome on top of that. But, who exactly was he? Curiosity finally got the better of you, and you decided to ask, "If you don’t mind me asking, who are you? What brings you to our market today?"

He smiled warmly, turning towards your much smaller figure. "I am Rengoku Kyojuro, a Demon Slayer. Normally, as the name suggests, I would be searching for demons, but right now, I find myself in need of a more mundane pursuit - finding some good food!"

You were taken aback by his unexpected revelation. "A Demon Slayer? That sounds intense. But if you’re looking for food, you’ve come to the right place. There are some fantastic stalls around here. Is there anything in particular you’d like?"

Rengoku’s eyes lit up with enthusiasm. "I’ve heard this market has some of the best local cuisine. I’d love to try whatever is most recommended!"

You thought for a moment; your hand drifted up to your mouth, finger resting lightly on your lips. Then, you gestured towards a few of the nearby stalls. "The dumpling stall over there has a great reputation. And if you’re interested in something sweet, the bakery at the end of the street is exceptional - oh, but a bit pricey maybe..."

Rengoku nodded appreciatively. "Thank you for the recommendations. It’s not often I get to enjoy a peaceful day like this. By the way, I don’t believe I caught your names. May I ask what they are?”

You smiled and replied, “I’m y/n. And this is my little  sister, Naoko. Our family has been selling flowers in this town for ages. The both of us run this stall while the rest works at home.”

Naoko gave a polite bow. “Nice to meet you, Rengoku-san.”

Rengoku’s eyes twinkled with genuine warmth. “A pleasure to meet you both. Thank you again for your recommendations.” 

As he prepared to head towards the food stalls, he paused and looked back at you. "Say, I have gotten word that a few people went missing over the last three days. Do you happen to know anything about it?" 

You and your sister looked at each other curiously before you shook your head. "Sorry, we haven’t heard anything about people going missing. You could ask the other vendors though?"

Rengoku nodded thoughtfully, his expression remaining calm and composed. "I see. Thank you for your help and for the recommendations. I’ll be sure to enjoy the food and continue my search for information elsewhere. Please, stay safe and take care."

You and your sister returned his smile. "Thank you, Rengoku. We hope you find what you’re looking for and have a pleasant day." With a final bow, Rengoku turned and made his way towards the dumpling stall you told him about.

As you and your sister resumed your duties, you couldn’t help but feel a bit of worry about what Rengoku said. The realization that a Demon Slayer was searching for missing people suggested there might be a demon nearby. The peaceful day suddenly felt more ominous, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was amiss. 

Quickly noticing your distress, Naoko glanced up from where she was fixing the flower arrangements the kids had touched. "Hey Sis, you seem a bit worried. Is everything okay?"

You hesitated before replying, "I just can’t help but think that if a Demon Slayer is looking for missing people, you know, there might be real danger close by…"

She gave you a reassuring smile. "Don’t worry too much. If there really is a demon nearby, and it’s not just some misunderstanding, we have a Demon Slayer right in town now anyway, so what's the worst that could happen? I‘m sure he’ll find that bitch!"

You laughed at her tone. Her words were comforting, but your anxiety didn’t vanish completely just yet. "I suppose you’re right. I guess I just need to focus on something else."

"Why don’t you help me with rearranging these flowers?" she suggested. "It might be a good distraction and, it will help get things back in order after the kids’ visit."

You nodded, making your way towards her. As you helped her rework the damaged arrangements, the rhythmic tasks of arranging flowers and preparing new bouquets began to calm your nerves. The act of focusing on something familiar and productive helped shift your thoughts away from the unsettling news.

By the time you finished rearranging, the stall looked as vibrant and inviting as before. The day continued with its usual flow, and while the sense of unease lingered in the back of your mind, the reassurance that someone was on the case helped keep your worries at bay.

—————

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the marketplace began to wind down. You and Naoko finished packing up your stall, securing the last of the flower arrangements and putting away the remaining products. As you started your way home, you exchanged waves and goodbyes with the other vendors, who offered friendly smiles and well-wishes. The evening air was crisp, and the streets were bathed in the soft glow of lanterns. 

“So,” Naoko began with a teasing tone, “Rengoku-san - he was quite handsome, wasn’t he?” She glanced at you with a mischievous grin.

You blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”

Naoko laughed softly. “Oh, come on. I saw the way you were looking at him. I think you were a bit smitten.”

You felt your cheeks warm slightly, but you couldn't help but laugh along. “Well, he did have a certain charm. But I was mostly focused on the fact that he was a Demon Slayer and all, you know?”

Naoko winked at you. “Sure, sure. Anyway, it’s not every day we get to meet someone like him. It was kind of exciting, don’t you think??”

You nodded, your mood lifting as you shared a laugh. “Yes, I suppose it was.”

As you continued down the familiar path towards home, the street grew darker. The light from the lanterns cast long shadows, and the sounds of the market gradually faded into the background. Unbeknownst to you and Naoko, a pair of glowing green eyes watched from the darkness, hidden just beyond the reach of the light.

The demon observed your departure with a chilling gaze, its presence concealed in the shadows. It lingered, waiting for the right moment to strike. The peaceful facade of the evening belied the danger lurking just out of sight.

Laughing and chatting, you and Naoko remained blissfully unaware of the threat looming over you. As you reached the doorstep of your home, the feeling of unease from earlier had mostly dissipated, replaced by the comfort of familiarity.

You locked the door behind you and settled in for the evening, unaware that Rengoku’s search might soon become a matter of urgency.

—————

As you and Naoko entered the cozy warmth of your home, you were greeted with excited chatter and the joyful sounds of your three younger siblings. They ran up to you both, their faces lighting up with smiles.

“Welcome back!” exclaimed your youngest sibling, a little girl with a cheerful grin. “How was your day?”

Naoko bent down to their level, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Oh, you won’t believe what happened today! We met a real Demon Slayer - his name was Rengoku Kyojuro!”

Your siblings' eyes widened in amazement. “A Demon Slayer? Really?” they asked in unison.

Naoko nodded enthusiastically. “Yes! He was so kind and tall, with the most amazing golden hair, a really cool haori with flames on it and a big sword! It was like something out of a story!”

Their mother, who had been preparing dinner in the kitchen, emerged with a warm smile. “That sounds very exciting. I’m glad you had such an interesting day.” While your siblings went on, you turned to face your mother, who was just about to ask you something. “Y/n, could you please help me set the table for dinner?”

You nodded and went over to assist your mother, setting out plates and utensils as she began to serve the meal. Naoko continued to share details about your encounter with Rengoku, capturing the kids' imagination with her animated storytelling. Your parents listened with interest, enjoying the lively atmosphere.

—————

After the meal, you and Naoko helped clear the table, laughing and chatting with your siblings. The dishes were soon washed and put away, and the evening's bustle settled into a peaceful quiet.

With the chores done, you and Naoko headed upstairs to your shared room. Your three younger siblings, already tired from their day, settled into their own room for the night. The soft sounds of their whispers and giggles faded as they drifted off to sleep.

In your room, you and Naoko changed into your nightclothes and sat down on your futons, the events of the day still fresh in your minds. But for you specifically, it was a certain someone's bright smile which remained most prominent in your thoughts. You couldn't help it - the way he spoke to the children, his positive demeanor, his eyes… Your cheeks felt a little hot. 

“This day was unusual, but in a good way,” you said, a smile playing on your lips. “Meeting a Demon Slayer without having to be rescued doesn't happen every day.”

Naoko grinned, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “I know! Rengoku-san seemed so kind and brave. I wonder what he’s doing now. Do you think he found any clues about the missing people?”

You shrugged, sitting down on your futon while you undid your hair. “I hope so. It’s a bit unsettling, thinking there might be a demon nearby. But I guess he’s probably doing everything he can to protect the civilians of this town.”

Naoko nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, and it’s a good thing we’re safe here. From tomorrow, we should focus on preparing for the flower festival. It’ll be nice to have something positive to look forward to. There is a lot to do for it anyways.”

You talked on and on about the plans for tomorrow, discussing arrangements and preparations. You thought to yourself that if you were lucky enough to meet Rengoku-san again, you'd ask him to stay for the festival. Soon, your conversation dwindled, and you both settled into your futons, the soft rustling of the bedding a gentle lullaby.

The room grew quiet as you and Naoko drifted off to sleep. As the moonlight filtered through the window, casting pale shadows on the walls, a tall figure watched from the darkness outside.

The demon observed the peaceful house with an unsettling grin. He had been tracking the area, searching for a vulnerable target. The sight of Naoko, so full of life and innocence, made it clear: She would be the next to fall.

The demon’s smile widened as he contemplated his next move. The night was still young, and he would wait patiently for the right moment to strike. For now, he relished the thought of the chaos he would soon bring to your lives.

As the night continued, the shadows outside grew deeper, and the demon's sinister plans began to take shape.

—————

The night was quiet, the only sounds being the gentle rustling of the wind outside and the soft breathing of you and Naoko as you slept. But the silence was abruptly shattered by a chilling sound - the creak of a door slowly opening. 

You jolted awake, heart pounding. The dim light from the moon cast eerie shadows across the room, and in that fleeting moment of clarity, you saw it: a monstrous figure, its eyes glowing with an unnatural green light, towering over Naoko.

A demon. Is this a nightmare? Or reality?

A gasp escaped your lips as you saw the demon's clawed hand wrapped tightly around Naoko’s neck. She was struggling, her face flushed with fear and desperation. Terror paralyzed you for a heartbeat, but then instinct took over. 

With shaking hands, you grabbed two hairpins from your bedside table. Summoning every ounce of courage you had, you lunged at the demon. The pins found their mark, stabbing into the demon’s eyes.

He howled in agony, a guttural, ear-splitting scream that echoed through the room. The demon released Naoko momentarily, frantically clawing at his eyes to remove the painful objects. Seizing the opportunity, you grabbed Naoko by the arm and swung her to the other side of the room, away from the demon’s reach.

“Naoko, get out of here!” you shouted, your voice trembling with fear. 

From the hallway, you heard the sound of lights being turned on and your parents’ worried voices calling out for you both. The demon, his eyes still burning with rage and pain, turned towards the door. He could sense that his time was running short; he had already been here for quite a few days, so he didn't want to take risks concerning Demon Slayers.

Enraged by the failed attack and the noise, the demon let out a roar of fury. He fixed his gaze on you, eyes still filled with hatred, then charging towards you.

Naoko, now safe but shaking uncontrollably, screamed in despair as she saw the demon’s intentions. “No! Don’t take her!”

Ignoring her cries, the demon advanced on you, his movements swift and deadly. In the chaos of the moment, you could hear the distant sound of approaching footsteps and the rising shouts of your parents. You needed to act quickly. You needed to think of something. Tears started running down your face when it hit you - if this really was a demon, if this really was no nightmare, there was close to nothing you could do. He would outrun and overpower you any time.

The demon lunged at you, and in a final act of desperation, you braced yourself and jumped back. But the demon was too fast. His claws reached out to grab you as he began to retreat through the door, dragging you towards the opening.

Your last sight was of Naoko, her face a mask of horror and tears, as she reached out helplessly. The world outside grew darker as the demon pulled you away, the night swallowing your cries and the frantic shouts of your parents. 

—————

The demon tore through the forest, his grip on you unyielding and merciless. His green eyes gleamed with malevolent satisfaction as he laughed on, clearly amused by your futile struggles. The trees blurred past in a nightmarish rush of darkness and shadows.  

“Why resist?” the demon hissed, his voice a chilling rasp. “There is nothing you can do anyway. Be happy that I took you instead - you saved your sister tonight! You’re a hero! As a thanks, I'll make sure to send her off soon to meet you in the afterlife!”

You could barely see through the tears streaming down your face, the terror clouding your vision. Every attempt to break free was met with the demon’s fierce grip. Despair gnawed at you as you struggled to think of any way to escape.

“Please, let me go!” you cried out, your voice breaking. “You don’t have to do this!”

The demon’s laughter was loud and mocking. “There’s no escaping me woman. I want to do this!”

You could feel your strength waning. So that's it? You will be brutally murdered by a demon? You didn't even get to say goodbye to everyone. You didn't even get to see your siblings come of age. Heck, you didn't even enter adulthood fully yourself. That’s hoe your life ends?

The forest was a blur, each moment dragging on endlessly as the creature’s grip tightened.

—————

“Naoko! "Where's y/n?” her mother cried out, her voice laced with fear. “What happened?”

Naoko, standing in stunned silence, could only stare at the empty space where you had been. Her body trembled with silent sobs, her eyes wide with disbelief and horror. Her parents’ frantic questions seemed to wash over her without registering.

“Naoko? Please talk to us Naoko!”

Naoko couldn’t respond. She needed to pull herself together immediately. What should she do now? What should she do now?

It striked her then: Rengoku. He was the only one who could possibly help.

Ignoring her parents’ calls, she turned and ran out of the house, driven by a mix of fear and determination.

The streets were eerily quiet as Naoko sprinted through the town, her heart pounding with urgency. The cold night air bit at her as she searched desperately for Rengoku, shouting out his name as loud as she could. He was her only hope to save you from that demon.

—————

Rengoku was patrolling the now quiet streets of the town, breathing in the cold air. The tranquility of the evening had provided him a brief respite from his duties. He thought about today, mind wandering without a real destination. Food, crow, people, flowers, you, children, food, sword, lanterns- wait, you? He stood still for a minute. This isn’t the first time you crossed his mind today.

But why?

It isn’t just because you are someone he talked to today. He talks to all different kinds of people all the time. Was there anything off about you? No, thats not it… Could it be that…

But before he got to that thought, his moment of peace was abruptly shattered by a piercing cry that cut through the night air.

"Rengoku-san! Rengoku-san!” The voice was filled with desperation and fear, drawing his attention immediately.

He turned towards the sound and saw Naoko, the young girl from earlier this day, running towards him. Her face was streaked with tears, her eyes wide with a mixture of terror and adrenaline. She was panting heavily, her breaths coming in short, frantic gasps.

Without hesitation, Rengoku approached her, his sharp gaze assessing her distress. “Naoko, what’s wrong? What happened?”

Naoko’s voice trembled as she struggled to catch her breath. “It’s y/n. A demon broke into our home. He... he took her away. I didn’t know who else to turn to, so I came to find you.You said you were a Demon Slayer, right? Please, you have to help!”

Rengoku’s expression hardened, his eyes narrowing with concern and resolve. “Where did the demon go? Do you know?”

Naoko nodded vigorously. “Yes, I saw him running into the forest. It was moving fast. I don't know if it might be too late...”

Rengoku placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “You did the right thing. I’ll find y/n and ensure her safety.”

He turned swiftly, his mind already shifting into action. The thought of a demon threatening innocent lives spurred him into immediate motion. Rengoku sprinted towards the edge of town, his mind focused on locating the demon and rescuing you. The forest loomed ahead, dark and foreboding, but he didn’t hesitate.

As he entered the forest, Rengoku’s senses sharpened, tuning into the subtle sounds of the night. His resolve was unshakeable. He had promised to protect those in need, and he would not fail.

With each step, he quickened his pace, his heart set on finding the demon and saving you from its clutches. The night air was filled with a tense silence, broken only by the sound of Rengoku’s determined strides as he plunged deeper into the forest, heading towards the direction Naoko had indicated.

He raced through the forest, his breaths coming in quick bursts as he pushed himself faster, guided by the desperate cry he’d heard earlier. The darkness of the woods seemed to close in around him, but he focused solely on the task at hand - finding and rescuing you.

Suddenly, a scream cut through the silence. It was your voice. Rengoku’s heart skipped a beat, fueling his determination as he followed the sound.

He burst into a small clearing and saw the horrifying scene unfold before him. The demon stood tall and menacing, his fangs bared and claws dripping with your blood. You were clutched in his grip, struggling weakly against his hold. Your face was contorted in pain and terror, tears streaming down your cheeks as the demon scratched at your arms, savoring your fear.

The sight of you suffering sparked a fierce anger within Rengoku. He stepped forward, his eyes blazing with resolve. “Release her, demon!”

The demon turned, his gaze shifting to Rengoku with a sneer. “Shit, a Demon Slayer. How inconvenient. Sorry, but I think I’ll enjoy this little game a bit longer.”

With a swift motion, Rengoku drew his sword, the red blade gleaming in the dim light. The battle began with a swirl of strikes. Rengoku’s movements were precise and fluid, each swing of his sword aimed at driving the demon back. The demon retaliated with his own feral attacks, claws slashing and snapping as he tried to maintain his hold on you.

Despite Rengoku’s skillful attacks, the demon used you as a shield, his claws digging deeper into your arms to taunt and provoke him. You cried out in pain with each scratch, your voice a chilling reminder of the demon’s cruelty. The sight of you suffering, your blood staining the ground, ignited a fury within Rengoku that burned hotter than ever before. He wasn’t sure why, but the sight of your pain spurred him to fight harder, his strikes becoming more intense and focused.

The demon’s taunts only fueled Rengoku’s rage. He redoubled his efforts, pushing the demon back with a series of powerful blows. You, in your agony, managed to wiggle slightly, creating just enough of an opening for Rengoku to make a decisive move. With a burst of strength, Rengoku executed a precise strike, slicing through the demon’s neck. The head fell to the ground with a sickening thud.

As the demon’s body slumped lifelessly to the ground, Rengoku rushed to your side. You lay there, wounded and in pain, your body trembling. He carefully cradled you in his arms, his eyes filled with concern as he examined your injuries. The scratches on your arms were deep and bloody, but thankfully not life-threatening.

“You’re safe now,” Rengoku said softly, his voice soothing despite the urgency of the situation. “I’m here. Try to breathe with me.”

Your eyes fluttered open, meeting his gaze with relief. You gave him a small nod.

You felt so warm.

Rengoku’s heart ached at the sight of your wounds, and he gently lifted you, preparing to carry you to your home. He moved swiftly, his priority now to get you back to your family and ensure you receive the medical attention you need.

As he carried you through the forest, he couldn’t shake the feeling of protectiveness he felt towards you. The sight of your pain had awakened something within him, a deep, unspoken connection that he would come to understand in time.

Back at your home, Naoko had already alerted your parents and they were anxiously waiting for your return. As Rengoku emerged from the forest with you in his arms, they rushed to you, their faces a mix of shock, relief, and concern.

Rengoku carefully handed you over to them, his duty now complete. He glanced back at Naoko, who was standing nearby, her eyes filled with gratitude and worry. “She’ll need medical attention immediately. Make sure she’s taken care of.”

Naoko nodded, tears still in her eyes. “Thank you, Rengoku-san. I don’t know how to repay you.”

Rengoku’s gaze softened. “You don’t need to. Just make sure she recovers. It's my job to protect you, so I have to apologize for not finding the demon earlier. I am terribly sorry!” He bowed down deep, eyes closed.

Naoko shook her head. "Don't apologize. If it wasn't for you, it would have been much worse." 

Rengoku-san, you’ve done so much for us tonight," your mother said, her voice trembling with gratitude. "Please, stay and rest. You can’t continue on without some proper sleep. It's the least we can offer."

Rengoku, though eager to continue his duty, was touched by their kindness. He nodded, accepting their offer with a warm smile. "Thank you. I’ll gladly stay for the night."

—————

As Rengoku settled into a corner of the room, he kept a vigilant watch over you, who was now lying in a bed, bandaged and resting. Despite the pain, you were slowly drifting into sleep, comforted by the presence of those around you and the sense of safety that Rengoku's protection had brought.

As he watched you, he couldn’t help but feel a swell of emotion - something he hadn’t quite felt before. There was a soft tenderness in his heart as he saw you resting peacefully, safe from harm. The more he watched you, the more he realized that his concern for you went beyond mere duty. He admired your bravery and resilience and found himself thinking about you with a newfound fondness as he saw you finally relax and fall into a serene sleep.

•.°——❀——°.•

a/n.: Like I said, there might be more coming! This feels like a build up to be explored even more, but while that is in work, I hope you can enjoy this story for now!

[margotw10bis]

Pretty Baby. KNJ [m]

sugardaddy!namjoon x sugarbaby!reader

Genre: smut; short-story

Words: 2.2k

Synopsis: Namjoon is your sugar daddy. However, you can't deny how your heart is jumping in your chest when he calls you his "pretty baby"… But when did it all begin?

Warnings: rough sex; unprotected sex; oral sex (f. receiving); Namjoon is huge 😳; he loves ass; use of "daddy"

1 → 2 → 3 (Bonus : Memories ; Doubts & Possibilities)

This part takes place before chapter 1.

Namjoon has always thought your first encounter was that night at a bar when he asked you to be his sugar baby. Little did he know there was, in fact, an unofficial encounter, several months before that.

It was at Incheon Airport, while you were waiting to pick Jimin up after a trip with his childhood friend Jungkook. You were actually grumpy when you saw that his plane had 20 minutes delay. But all of that went forgotten when you heard some sobbing nearby. You looked all around you and noticed a little boy, maybe three or four years old. He was crying but he was all alone. You frowned and was ready to walk to him when a tall, brawny and blond hair man kneeled down in front of the boy.

You stepped closer, ready to jump in if the man had bad intentions. However, you heard him talking with the sweetest tone possible despite his deep voice.

"Are you lost?" The man asked

The boy nodded, crying louder. Your heart broke a little to witness him this sad and scared.

"Don't worry, I'm gonna help you. I promise I gonna find your parents" His savior said, putting a reassuring hand on the boy's shoulder

His palm was so big on the small child's body that you wondered if the man has ever been a child before. His aura was nothing but goodness and the way the little boy stopped crying proved you right. The stranger, of whom you could see the face now, was the most handsome man you've ever seen. His eyes, which you surely thought could be very intimidating in other situations, were so pretty in their brown shade. His lips were pulp and the cute dimples on his cheeks when he smiled were like a Cupid's arrow entering your heart. Was that love at first sight?

The man asked the boy for his name.

"Seo-joon" He answered with a hiccup

"Let me see your bag, maybe there is your parents number"

You could totally see that the man was trying to be as delicate as possible and it made you giggle by the sweetness. He was definitely daddy material — only if you knew how much...

The backpack of the little child had, indeed, a tag with his parents' information. The man dialed the number and a panicked voice answered the call.

"Hello, I'm with your son. Don't worry, he is okay. We are in the arrival hall, near the information panels"

Seo-joon's parents arrived quickly after that, running to their son. They were crying and thanking the stranger at the same time. An embarrassed smile grew on the man's face. You wanted to talk to him but he walked away before you could do it.

You had been thinking about him for months but what could you do? You knew nothing about him, not even his name. But luck was on your side since Jimin, without knowing it, gave you the opportunity to see the man again when he literally dragged your ass to a luxurious bar. At first, you didn't want to go but your best friend insisted so much that you gave up.

You were sitting at the bar, waiting for your drinks when a man sat down next to you. When you turned your head and saw the stranger from the airport, your heart stopped and your throat went dry. He was even more handsome than from your memories.

He introduced himself and you did the same. Namjoon started to flirt with and you flirted back. But you surely didn't imagine what he would say next:

"Look, I'm going to be honest. You're very pretty but I'm not looking for a girlfriend" You remember that your heart broke a little when he said that "But, if you're okay if it, we can have a different kind of relationship"

"What kind?" You asked, completely dumbfounded

"A sugar daddy/baby one" Namjoon answered, looking straight into your eyes

What?! You had never, in your entire life, thought about having a sugar daddy. You didn't even need the money, your current job was paying you enough. And Namjoon wasn't so much older, even though he was 35 and you were 24.

You just asked him why and he was honest enough to tell you that he didn't have time for more and that you wouldn't be the only one. You thought about it for a few minutes and then you realized that seeing him again was fate and that you couldn't miss the chance. You wanted to be with him the very first minute you saw him. If you had to be his sugar baby for that, then a sugar baby you would be. You accepted, not caring about the ridiculous amount of money he offered you. You didn't need the money but you wanted the man.

After that, you spent the night — a very hot night during which you realized how much of a beast Namjoon was in bed — with him in a hotel room. A few days later, he texted you an address. He didn't say what you would do there and you didn't question. You just went to the rendezvous.

You were quite surprised to stand in front of a luxurious block apartment in one of the most expensive districts of Seoul. At first, you thought it was Namjoon's place and you were very curious to see how his flat was, to see if he had photos of him, his family and his friends. But when Namjoon joined you and opened the door of one of the apartments, you were more than surprised to meet an empty one.

The place was huge and the windows provided an amazing view on Seoul, but there was no furniture at all.

"Do you like it?" Namjoon asked you

"The view is beautiful" You managed to say, not knowing where he wanted to go with his question

"Good. It's yours, baby"

You gasped and looked at Namjoon with wide open eyes. In the other hand, Namjoon was pleased by your reaction and he walked closer to kiss you deeply. His hands quickly found your ass and he pressed your body against his. You were small in his arms. You knew Namjoon was very strong and he could break you very easily but instead of being scared of it, you just felt good in his embrace. You felt protected and you wished you could never leave it.

It didn't take long for Namjoon to lead to the kitchen island. He grabbed your thighs to make you sit on it and started kissing your neck. Your fingers were in his soft hair and your legs circled his waist, trying to pull him deeper into your skin. You felt his hand slowly going down to capture your tit in order to massage it. Your head rolled back at the pleasure of it. He took off your top and bra in no time to finally get to see your pretty boobs. He smirked when he noticed your already hard nipples.

He dived into it, sucking and rolling his tongue around it. Soft moans left your mouth and your pussy became wetter and wetter. Fuck, he was good. You whimpered when he bit on one of your nipples but an instant pleasure chased the pain. You loved how rough he was. You kind of got the clue that the rougher he was, the more he cared. So you did want him to be harsh with you.

Namjoon pushed your chest down so you could lie on your back. The material of the kitchen island was so cold against your burning skin that it made your shiver. Namjoon took some seconds to admire how beautiful you were and then made sure to completely undress you. Your naked body entirely at his disposal was the best thing ever for him.

"My pretty baby" He whispered before taking a big licking of your wet pussy

You jolted and moaned of how good it was to feel his tongue on you. He was eating your pussy so good that you couldn't think straight. Namjoon loved to see how your body reacted when he was touching you and he made it as his mission to make you cum as much as he could. He entered you with one of his long digits. He knew your tight pussy wasn't used enough to his big cock for penetrating you directly. He was pumping you, covering his finger with your juices. When the sliding was smooth enough, he added another finger.

"It feels good, daddy" You moaned with red cheeks — calling him daddy was very new to you at the time

"Your pussy is so tight, I love it. Let's find out if you can take another one" He teased before entering you with a third digit

Fuck, he was stretching you so good that you gasped. Namjoon curled his fingers inside your pussy to hit your g-spot, making you lose your sanity. His tongue was keeping its devilish pattern on your clit and you could feel your orgasm slowly building inside your stomach. Namjoon smirked when your walls got tighter around his fingers. He sped up his pace, just to push you closer to the edge.

"Cum on my fingers. Come on, baby"

His raspy voice against your pussy was a real sin and it was enough for you to go to the other side. You cummed hard on his fingers, screaming his name despite your heavy breathe.

Namjoon stood up to kiss you, your arousal still tasted on his tongue. You were slowly coming back to Earth while Namjoon used the hand that was in your pussy to lube his big cock. You didn't even notice him taking off his clothes. You opened your eyes to awe his buff body. His biceps and abs were flexing as he was pumping himself. He was so damn hot that you had to bite your lower lip to prevent a moan at his sight.

"Open your legs for daddy" Namjoon orders and fuck, you could feel your pussy dripping

You hold your thighs to give as much room for Namjoon as you could and he guided his fat dick to your entrance. The tip was teasing you and you couldn't wait to feel him inside you. You shuddered when the teasing was longer than you thought it would be.

"Beg for it"

Namjoon loved hearing how desperate you were for his cock. It boosted his already huge ego and you didn't mind making it bigger. Namjoon was, in fact, the man you loved and you could do whatever he wanted to make him happy.

"Please, daddy, I need your cock" You begged, making Namjoon satisfied

"Good girl" He praises as he gently entered you

Fuck, he was so big, it was almost painful. When he was fully in you, Namjoon pushed your knees against your chest to open you wider. It made your cunt clench and Namjoon growl. He started pounding you hard and deep. That was no doubt he knew what he was doing. Never a man had fucked you this good and the pleasure was enhanced by this huge size.

Sounds of skins clapping were echoing in the empty apartment like the sweetest melody ever. Your boobs, bouncing in rhythm with Namjoon's dick strokes, appealed him and he bent over to suck on your nipples. You groaned, feeling overwhelmed by all the sensations on your body.

"Fucking big" You choked up, making Namjoon giggle

"Fucking tight" He replied playfully

Your pretty face was torn by pleasure which spurred him to fuck rougher, if it was even possible. You looked so precious like that. His pretty baby.

You felt your second orgasm near so you grabbed Namjoon's hair to kiss him messily. Moans from both sides were mixing between your lips.

"Faster, daddy" You begged, completely delirious

Namjoon did it and you reached your high — again — in no time. You thought that he would slow down but it surely wasn't his intention. He, instead, put one of his warm palms around your neck and the other one on your clit. It was like Namjoon wanted to never end your orgasm but it was too much for you. Your eyes filled with tears and your mouth opened, no sound able to come from your shaking body.

"Look at you" He smirked "So fucked up. Tell daddy how much you love his cock"

"I fucking love your cock!" You screamed

"You're so fucking pretty"

Namjoon pounded a couple of times more before pulling abruptly out of your pussy and jerk him off to paint your stomach with his hot and thick white seed. He took a few seconds to admire his art piece but he didn't wait long before picking it up with his index and middle finger. He brought them up to your mouth.

"Open" He ordered and pushed his digits inside your mouth

You could taste his salty cum on your tongue as you rolled it around his fingers to clean them up.

"Good fucking girl" He praised

He kissed you so gently after that that it surprised you. You didn't think Namjoon could be so caring after fucking you so roughly. But it'd soon be your favourite thing about him. He hugged you tight despite your sticky tummy and his sweaty body — you both didn't care at all about it.

"How about a hot bath?" He offered you with a very sweet voice

You were definitely in love with the man. 

Memories → Next

Taglist @gimeow @whoreseok723 @wecanpretendit @missbangtangirl @dprmoon @baechugff @parkinglot-nights @nikkinik485 @hoseokteardrop

[perseephoneee]

christmas tree farm (elijah mikaelson x f!reader)

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ happy day 2 of ficmas!

prompt: you like drawing one of the workers at the local Christmas tree farm

a/n: this took so long and i'm so sorry but also this is my dream. like, yes, let me find elijah at a Christmas tree farm. i love him your honor.

↳ masterlist  ↳ ship exchange ↳ join my taglist ↳ ficmas 2023

There’s never a great reason to go to a Christmas tree farm every day, yet you did it without reason.

Well, one reason.

The Mikaelson Tree Farm was only four blocks from your apartment, and initially you went to help your friend, Bonnie, pick out a tree. It was the day after Thanksgiving, but she was excited since it was her first time getting a tree alone. She convinced you with a promised cup of hot cocoa, and you found yourself at the expansive farm. What made it better than others was that an arborist owned it, so they understood the novelty of trees better than anyone.

You had brought your sketchbook along as well. As the quarter was close to ending, you were working hard on your animation final. Not that you were an art major by any means, but you liked to draw as a hobby, and when an opportunity arose to take an art class, you did so happily. Now, though, you had to do a short animation for your final, which meant lots and lots of panels. 

“Do you think this one is too dense?” Bonnie asked, taking careful steps around a Douglas Fir. You peered at it, continuing to shade out its leaves in your journal. 

“Depends on how many ornaments you want to shove in there,” you mumbled, adding a few people to the background of your illustration. 

“I’ve got a good amount that I inherited from Grams,” Bonnie sighed. 

“Then you might want some more space.”

“You’re probably right,” Bonnie looked around, hands on her hips and breath fogging before her. “Plus, this would shed a lot.”

“You’d probably want a Nordmann then,” a smooth voice said from behind you. Both you and Bonnie turned to the source of the voice, and you felt yourself freeze up as you took in the handsome man behind you. He wore a red flannel with a cargo jacket, and you wondered how he wasn’t cold. “Sorry for bothering you. My family owns the farm; I couldn’t help but overhear.”

“So, you know things about trees,” you said, holding your notebook close to your chest. 

“Yes…I know about trees,” he smiled.

“Like the Lorax,” you blurted out, feeling your eyes widen. You could almost hear the look of disappointment on Bonnie’s face. The man chuckled, though, albeit with little confusion. 

“I’m Elijah,” he said, shaking Bonnie’s hand and yours. 

“Nordmann, why would I want that?” Bonnie inquired, pivoting to your previous conversation. 

“Nordmanns don’t shed,” Elijah explained. “They have a blue tone underneath their leaves and are also pretty.”

“Very nice,” Bonnie nudged you, and you sent her a look of approval. “Show me a Nordmann.”

Bonnie ended up choosing a six-foot-tall Nordmann that she affectionately named “Norman the Nordmann.” Elijah and one of his brothers cut the tree down for her and carried it back to her car. Frankly, the level of attraction you felt watching a man carrying a tree over his shoulder was embarrassing, but you didn’t care. You just said thank you in a meek voice and left with Bonnie to decorate her tree. Still, you couldn’t get Elijah out of your mind. 

Plus, as you spent time working on your animation final, you realized that one of your characters started to look more and more like Elijah. 

Which is how you kept ending up at the Christmas tree farm. 

You couldn’t just show up and sit around waiting to see Elijah walk by. That would be incredibly humiliating for you. So, instead, after your third time going to the farm and lurking in the trees like a creeper, you decided to buy a wreath. The farm had a tiny little hut selling wreaths, ornaments, hot cocoa, and more. They even had a photo album full of pictures of their customers from over the years. One of the sisters always sat in the hut, reading a new book each day, and finally pointed out that you always came in but never bought anything, which is how you ended up with a beautiful wreath you hung up in your apartment. Feeling guilty, you came back the next day and bought another wreath. You always bought a wreath and free hot cocoa after you finished sketching the farm (and Elijah). You realized at some point you should probably buy a tree and move on from your infatuation, but that would involve confronting your wiles, which would simply be unacceptable. 

Today was week three, thirteen wreaths later. You curled up in the corner of the farm with your journal, burrowing into your scarf to fight off the chill. You already had several panels drawn of the day in and day out of the farm, but now you were debating tearing yourself away and drawing Freya (your hot cocoa provider and sister who reads inside the wreath hut) through the acts of reading. Something blocked your light though, as you were drawing, and you looked up to see Elijah hovering over you. Your eyes widened. 

“You have come in every day, you realize that?” he asked, hands in his pockets and a slight smirk on his lips. You likely looked like a deer in the headlights. 

“I like trees,” you answered, immediately looking down at your hands as your brain screamed WHAT ARE YOU DOING? 

“Like the Lorax?” Elijah smirked, and you felt your jaw drop as he recalled your first day. 

“I can go,” you said, starting to get up, but Elijah put a hand on your shoulder, stopping you. The heat from his hand spread throughout your arm like fire to a forest. 

“You don’t have to leave,” he dropped his hand, fiddling with the cuffs of his flannel. “I just noticed that you have never gotten a tree.”

“I haven’t.”

“Do you want one?” He gestured towards the plethora of Christmas trees around you, and you started feeling like a mouse cornered by a cat. A very attractive cat. 

“I could…get a tree,” you crossed your arms, hugging yourself. Putting your journal back in your bag, you gave Elijah your name and followed him deeper into the tree line. He showed you several different variants, explaining their pros and cons, but you stopped at a four-foot Noble that was more sparse on one side and slightly crooked. “I like him.”

Elijah looked at the tree you were pointing at and raised an eyebrow as if to ask seriously? You had a small smile as you circled your crooked, kind of terrible, tree. It was imperfect, and it’s why you liked it. Elijah sighed but agreed to give you the tree. He cut it down himself (it was small enough), and you checked out with Freya, who laughed at you finally buying a tree. 

“Where’s your car?” Elijah asked, tree propped up against him. 

“Oh, uh, I don’t have one,” you stammered. You realize you can’t get a tree home without a car. “I walked.”

“You walked,” Elijah said plainly. You were thinking that he probably thought you were an idiot. 

“I live four blocks away.”

“Alright… let's go,” Elijah sighed, hoisting the tree over his shoulder. 

“Uh, excuse me?” You held out your hands to stop him. 

“To take your tree home.”

“I can take my own tree home, thank you very much.” Elijah stared at you with a blank expression. He would’ve made an excellent diplomat if he wasn’t busy cutting down trees. You stared right back, trying your best to assert dominance. His eyes stared into yours deeply, and finally you relented. “Fine, you can take my tree home,” you mumbled, feeling frustrated as a smile broke across his face. 

“Lead the way,” he gestured. You stalk a guy for weeks, and now he’s coming to your apartment with a tree you didn’t intend to buy. You thought that Bonnie would’ve gotten a kick out of this. He follows you out of the lot and onto the street, keeping quiet as he carries the tree with no complaints. You wonder how much he could bench press if he lifted the tree like it was nothing. You got to your building, a little four-story brick apartment, and let him in. Immediately, his eyes were drawn to the plethora of wreaths lining the doors in the hall. “Are these all…?”

“Yes,” you answered quickly. “I’m the building manager, so I gave everyone a wreath.” Elijah still looked surprised but didn’t say anything else as he followed you to your apartment door tucked into the corner of the first floor. You wiggled your lock before slamming your shoulder into the door to open it. “It gets stuck sometimes,” you explained, opening the door further for Elijah to enter. 

With Elijah peering around your place, you suddenly felt very self-conscious. It was a small place. The layout was straightforward. Your front door opened into your small kitchen, with the bathroom to the right. Your living room was just a couch, a TV you got from your aunt, and a coffee table. You didn’t have a dining room, just a tiny breakfast nook you haggled off Facebook Marketplace. Your bedroom was off the living room, just a bed and a desk. The thing that sold you on the apartment, though was the beautiful circular window behind the couch and the fact you got cheap rent in a city as long as you acted as building manager. 

“Where would you like to put your tree?” Elijah inquired. 

“I guess over here is fine,” you walked over to the space between the wall and your couch, currently inhabited by your basket of yarn that you use for knit projects. 

“Do you have a tree stand?” He put the tree down against the wall. You kept your mouth shut as you watched realization flash across his face. “You bought a tree without a tree stand?”

“I didn’t intend to buy a tree,” you defend yourself. Elijah lets out a small sigh of exasperation, fidgeting with the tree so it can lean on its own. 

“I’ll be right back,” Elijah exits before you can say anything. You glare at the tree, internally blaming it for your current predicament. Keeping busy, you started a pot of coffee in your kitchen while you hunted around for something to decorate the tree with. You came back with a basket of crochet stars and some twine. Maybe you could make a garland and then harass Bonnie for some twinkle lights. You know she had them; she covered her entire place in them like it was Tinkerbell’s house. As you were stringing stars onto your twine, you heard a knock on your door before Elijah entered, box in hand. “Alright, I got you a tree stand, and Freya sent me with ornaments.”

“She’s a good egg,” you smiled, helping him with the box as he started fitting the tree into the stand. 

“That she is,” he laughed, sending you a grin that made your stomach perform cartwheels. You laid out the ornaments Freya sent on your counter, smiling at the cute little animals. She even sent along a glitter-covered mushroom. Your coffee machine dinged, and you moved to pour yourself a cup. 

“Do you want coffee? I got vanilla syrup,” you offered, holding up a reindeer mug. 

“That would be lovely, thank you,” Elijah smiled. You made him a small latte, as you enjoyed any chance to perfect your latte art. You went to a Korean cafe once and watched them craft a bear, and since then have forced yourself to learn how to do the same. You added a little heart, and handed the latte to Elijah who looked at it fondly. “You’re very creative.” He looked at the star garland you had discarded from earlier. “Did you make this?”

“Yeah…it’s the only decor I have,” you shrugged, taking a sip of your coffee and enjoying the warmth seeping into your bones. Elijah picked up the garland and started wrapping it around the tree, making sure each branch was evenly spaced and that the stars were visible. 

“Do all customers get you decorating their tree?” you asked, the corner of your mouth lifting up in a smile. 

“Just the ones I like,” Elijah responded, his back still towards you. You felt your cheeks flush at his comment. He was likely just flattering you. He stepped away from the tree when he was done, and your eyes lit up as you took in his careful work. 

“Well, thank you,” you coughed, putting your coffee down on the counter and shuffling on your feet. You expected Elijah to make a move to leave, but he stayed there, staring at you with thoughtful eyes. He really had very kind eyes, the type you felt at ease under. 

“Can I ask you a question?” Elijah’s brows furrowed, his fingers dancing over the buttons of his cuffs as he looked at you inquisitively. You nodded to let him continue. “Why did you come to the farm everyday?”

“Honestly?” you laughed, glancing away. “I liked to draw you.”

“Draw me?”

“Yeah…it’s silly, isn’t it?” you rubbed the back of your neck, your arms wrapping around to curl more into yourself. 

“May I see?”

“See what?”

“The drawings,” Elijah dared a step closer to you. He smelled like the trees he cultivated, rich and earthy. You felt that if someone were to be personified as a rainy forest, he would be that person. You walked over to your bag, nervously pulling out your sketchbook and handing it to him. His fingers brushed yours, but you quickly pulled away. You hated people looking at your work, so you kept yourself busy by cleaning up the kitchen. You could hear the flipping of the pages, and with each turn the coil in your stomach grew tighter. You were so nervous, you felt like you could break at any moment. What if he hated the drawings? You could never recover. When you heard the thud of the book closing, you dared turning towards Elijah and felt your heart clench as you met his gaze. 

“My brother would hate you,” Elijah said, putting your sketchbook carefully on the kitchen counter. “You’re a much better artist than him.”

“Oh,” you responded, some pressure alleviating in your chest. 

“You captured me very kindly,” Elijah smiled, stepping around the kitchen island to get closer to you. You instinctively took a step back. 

“I see you very kindly,” you whispered, your voice soft on his ears. “It was for a class animation, I…hope I didn’t offend you.”

“You couldn’t offend me,” Elijah reassured. “You make me feel appreciated.”

“Are you not?” 

“A family as large as mine,” Elijah sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s easy to lose sight of things.”

“Well, I see you…if that matters,” you said. Your heart was running a race with how fast it was beating. Elijah grabbed your hand, his thumb running over your knuckles like you were a precious artifact. 

“Y/N,” Elijah started, biting his lip in thought. “I’m glad that you kept coming back.” You noticed that his fingers were calloused and rough, likely from all the work of the farm. “I would like to take you out, if that’s alright.”

“Yes,” you answered quickly, earning a smile from the man in front of you. “I would like that a lot.” Elijah tucked a strand of hair behind your ear before glancing back at your sketchbook. 

“May I see the animation, when its done?”

“Of course.”

“Can I give you something?” Elijah questioned, turning back to look at you. You nodded slowly, unsure of what he was thinking. Elijah leaned down, pressing a soft kiss against your lips. His hands came up to cup your head, his fingers brushing through the strands of your hair. He was gentle, but firm, and you found yourself tugging him closer by the front of his shirt. Kissing him felt like first snowfall, or when you learned you had a day off from school. He pulled away, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth and the top of your head. 

“That was a good gift,” you whispered, enjoying the deep chuckle that emanated from Elijah. “Does this mean I can stop buying Christmas wreaths?” That earned an even bigger laugh. 

“You really are an enigma,” Elijah smiled, kissing you again on your lips. 

Oh yes, you guess there is a very good reason to go to a Christmas Tree Farm every day

[bring-backup-99]

Night Three

Full fic on Ao3

PAIRING: tech x fem reader

SUMMARY: You’ve spent the last two nights hooking up with a handsome stranger. You promise yourself this is the last time.

WORDS COUNT: 1311

RATING + WARNINGS: 18+, spicy, porn with minimal plot, PiV, oral sex (female receiving), touch of Dom!Tech

NOTES: This is Part 3 of the first installment of my reverse harem “Bad Choices” smutlet series on Ao3. Yes, this is how I channeled my extra energy after the Season 2 finale.

Although it’s written in second person, my heroine eventually has a very established relationship with the Batch.

“This is the last time,” you tell yourself. You’re not waiting for this man at a bar anymore. It doesn’t matter how this night ends, good or bad. At the moment odds are 40/60 bad, based on the fact that you’re lying on the cold floor of a spaceship, dress gone, underwear lost, legs spread, and half fucked. He’s fixing something and not giving you any relief. This is not ideal.

When he finally appeared, you didn’t stay long. He kissed you ravenously, paid your tab, then pulled you out of the bar. He put you on top of a speeder, which you assume he stole since he ditched it a short way from the spaceport. He seemed hungry for you tonight, based on the way he’d been kissing you, pressing you against walls and ships to manhandle you. Finally, one of the ships had a gangway open, and he practically carried you up the stairs before shutting the door behind you both.

He immediately stripped off your dress and panties and lifted you so your legs hooked around his waist, your lips locked together, and you ground yourself against…some kind of pouch. Maybe a tool belt. You couldn’t tell. After what he did to you last night, you were beyond horny and were desperate to feel him inside you again. He pinned you to the wall, his hands between your legs, two fingers sliding knuckle deep into you. You whimpered, needing more. And then he…just put you down. A noise from the ship’s console had distracted him, and he’d turned to it immediately.

“That should not be happening,” he’d said, echoing your own thoughts, as you watched him pull a tool off his belt, crouch under the control panel to examine the issue, then lie on his back and start working.

Your brain could not process what was happening. One moment you were ready to get absolutely railed by this tall, handsome stranger, and now he’d gone full mechanic mode. Legs unsteady, you staggered over to one of the chairs and collapsed into it. You watched him work for a moment before noticing the large bulge still in his pants. He wasn’t so far under the panel that you couldn’t get to him, so you decided to throw caution to the wind. What was the worst that could happen?

He didn’t make any noise when you straddled his thighs, and he barely twitched when your hand stroked the length of him through his pants. You did it again, this time cupping his balls with one hand as the other worked up his shaft, feeling him harden fully, and then began undoing the fastening that kept him from you. You groaned when you finally saw his erection, feeling its heat in your palms. Since he still hadn’t stopped you, or the work he was doing, you eased yourself up, rubbing the head against your wet opening, then sinking yourself down on him.

That got his attention. He paused and looked at you. You could see your reflection in his ever present goggles. You could not suppress your cry as you felt yourself spread around him. He watched you fuck yourself on him, one hand holding on to the console to support yourself, knees screaming in protest against the cold hard metal floor. You felt him shift slightly to meet you and heard the clink of his tools placed next to him.

His hands grasped your hips, and then, in a move that was truly incomprehensible to you, he lifted you off of him and deposited you on the floor.

You lay there stunned for a moment, watching him refasten his pants and hearing his tools clinking again as he worked under the console.

In response to your cry of frustration, you hear him say, “You began prematurely.” Defeated, you don’t move until he finally gets up and offers you a hand. “Don’t pout,” he says, putting you back into one of the chairs.

You sit still, the cold torture against your hot skin. He tinkers around the ship for a few minutes more before returning, having removed his belt and a number of the pouches that were strapped to his body.

“Do you want to leave?” he asks, coming down on one knee in front of you, spreading your legs, pulling your hips toward him, while pushing your torso back. You whimper, feeling his breath along your thighs. He lifts your hips, his face dipping between your legs, taking in the mingled scent of his musk and your excitement. His tongue traces around your swollen labia, tasting you, then flits against your clit, making you moan. He holds your wrists firmly, as he fully presses his lips around you, sucking roughly, using his tongue to ravage your sensitive tip. You’re so close, so tantalizingly close, that of course he stops, but just for a moment. He’s undone his pants, thick cock ready.

Demonstrating his strength again, he lifts you onto him, before switching places with you on the chair. You sink down on him, moaning in sweet relief. He moves with you this time, thrusting into you as you fuck him. You use his shoulders for leverage as you bring yourself up and down on his length. His hand reaches between you, collecting your wetness from his shaft, then catching your swollen nub between his fingers, tugging and stroking it, while your cries become wilder and louder. The orgasm is blinding and made more intense by the rough rhythm he is keeping inside you, taking you through waves and waves of bliss.

“I don’t think I can move,” you whisper as you collapse against him, your pussy pulsing around his thickness.

“That will not be a problem,” he answers, almost snarkily, not that you care anymore. He holds your hips down as he pushes deeper into you. When you tighten around him, he gasps, his thrusts losing their rhythm but making up for it in force. The friction stimulates you again, and you’re moaning against his shoulder, trying to ride him. He groans and starts to say something.

“I don’t object,” you answer before he forms the words. His hands grasp your hips firmly, moving you in time with his thrusts, until finally with a loud gasp, you feel him orgasm inside you. You keep rocking your hips on him as his cock twitches. Finally he stops you, and you press yourself to his chest, taking a few minutes to recover. With great effort, you lift yourself off him, his cum spilling out of you, onto his softening cock, down your thigh. He catches you as your legs give way and gently places you back in the chair, which is now much warmer than earlier. He cleans you both up with a soft towel he produced out of nowhere, and lets you rest.

You jerk awake from a light doze. You hadn’t been asleep too long since you’re not yet chilled by the cool air of the ship. You retrieve and slip on your dress, but your underwear are nowhere to be found.

He’s sitting in the pilot’s chair, working at the console, and turns to you as you approach.

“Would you like me to return you to your domicile?”

“Hmmmm?” You pretend to contemplate as you lean down to kiss him. “But I’m not tired.”

Your hand drifts into his lap, your fingers stroking along the outline of his hardening cock. The console beeps, a comm signal. He answers.

“Tech. We’re ready for pick up.”

“Understood. I will leave momentarily.”

You sigh. “Well that’s disappointing.”

“Transit time is 1.12 hours…if you would like to accompany me.” He’s already stood and lifted you against the console, your legs wrapped around him. You can hear him pushing buttons behind you, but you don’t care.

He really is impossible to refuse.

*

The rest of the series can be found here.

Warning: It gets kinky.

[bitchinbarzal]

Flights & Feelings | T Meier

summary: you meet a handsome stranger on a plane and now you can’t stop thinking about him.

-

You’re half-asleep in your window seat, head lolling against the plastic panel as the plane hums steadily around you. The flight from Zürich to Newark is long, and you spent the first few hours flipping through a book you couldn’t focus on, still daydreaming about the cobblestone streets and quiet cafes you left behind in Switzerland.

Your vacation had been everything you’d hoped for; peaceful, breathtaking, and exactly the break from reality you’d needed. Now, reality is a plane at 30,000 feet, a slightly stiff neck, and the deep voice of the man sliding into the seat beside you.

“Sorry, they just moved me” he mutters as he settles in, his broad frame taking up more space than the average passenger. His accent is light but noticeable, a blend of Swiss-German and something else you can’t quite place.

You blink the sleep from your eyes and glance over. He’s tall - impossibly so, even folded into the too-small airplane seat. He looks familiar, but you can’t put your finger on why.

“No worries” you murmur, offering a small, polite smile.

He smiles back, and just like that, the long flight doesn’t seem so tedious anymore.

His name is Timo, and he’s heading back to New Jersey for work. You tell him about your trip, how you spent two weeks wandering through the Swiss Alps, eating your body weight in fondue, and drinking wine on terraces overlooking the lake.

“Good choice” he grins “The food alone is worth the visit”

“Right? I don’t know how I’m supposed to go back to my sad grocery store meals after this”

“You could always move there”

The idea makes you laugh “Tempting. But my life is in Jersey”

“Mine too” he says, surprising you. You raise an eyebrow, and he shrugs, leaning back against the seat “I live there most of the year”

It’s only when he mentions hockey that it clicks. Timo Meier. You don’t follow the sport closely, but even you know the name. The Devils are a big deal in New Jersey, and if he plays for them, that explains why he looks so familiar.

You don’t bring it up, though. Maybe you should, but there’s something nice about talking to him like this. Like two strangers on a plane, sharing stories and bad airplane food without the weight of anything else.

And you do talk. The conversation flows easily, shifting from travel to movies to the injustice of how small the drink cups are on airplanes.

By the time the plane begins its descent into Newark, you realize you don’t want the flight to end.

You want to keep talking to him.

You want to see him again.

But you don’t say anything, and neither does he. The seatbelt sign blinks off, and the usual shuffle of passengers begins. You grab your bag, he grabs his, and somewhere between customs and baggage claim, you lose him in the crowd.

It’s only when you’re in your Uber, staring out the window at the skyline, that you realise neither of you got the other’s number.

You tell yourself it was just a passing moment. A good conversation on a long flight.

But you still think about him.

It’s been a couple of weeks, and life has settled back into its usual routine.

“Hey” your friend nudges you, pointing toward the TV above the bar “Isn’t that the guy from your flight?”

You glance up just in time to see Timo’s face on the screen. It’s a post-game interview, and he’s still in his jersey, looking slightly out of breath as he talks to the reporter.

The caption at the bottom flashes: Timo Meier – 2 Goals Tonight.

A mix of surprise and something else, something warmer, settles in your chest.

You wonder, for the first time, if he ever thought about you too.

The universe has a funny way of working things out.

You don’t expect to see him again, but a week later, you find yourself at Prudential Center for a game. A friend had extra tickets, and you figured, why not?

The game is exciting, even for a casual observer like you. The energy in the arena is electric, the fans loud and passionate. And Timo? He’s good. Really good. You find yourself watching him more than anyone else on the ice.

After the game, your friend drags you to a bar nearby, packed with Devils fans celebrating the win. You’re halfway through your drink when a voice behind you says.

“You didn’t tell me you were a hockey fan”

You turn, heart skipping a beat.

Timo is standing there, still in his team-issued jacket, hair damp from a post-game shower.

Your lips part in surprise “I’m not, really. Just here for fun with my friends”

He tilts his head, studying you like he’s trying to figure something out. Then he grins, shaking his head. “I can’t believe this”

“Believe what?”

“That we met again”

“You say that like it wasn’t bound to happen” You smile, pulse thrumming “Jersey isn’t that big”

“Big enough” he counters. His eyes flicker with something like amusement before he reaches for his phone, unlocking it and handing it to you “Here. Before we lose track of each other again”

You take it without hesitation, fingers tapping in your number before handing it back.

“There” you say, feeling lighter than you have in weeks “Now you have no excuse”

He chuckles, tucking his phone away “Neither do you”

Maybe it was just a conversation on a plane.

But maybe, it was something more.

[captainmullin]

zegagrande night life

notes: short mullin/rackam drabble that would Not leave me alone after all of our talk about Relink and Mullin’s relationships with the people there! Jealous Rackam was also a surprise to me, too - he popped out and now we’re rolling with it oops

Rolan is. Well, you'll see!

They laughed at their own joke, leaning against the wood paneling of the bar and tracing their finger across the grain; feeling the pattern change under their touch. Their senses had become muddy, an attempt to stop the world outside from getting in any closer, but it only served to make their judgment worse. Mullin slouched against the counter, humming to themself as they listened to the band play quietly in the corner. The bartender had paid them no mind, silently sliding them another of the same drink they had been nursing for about an hour. The captain of the Grandcypher didn’t normally partake this much when they were on a mission, but tonight was different.

“He’s so… stupid. Stupid, dumb, handsome-“ They began to mutter to themself and they took a drink, “-stupid, man.”

“Oh! Uh, who is stupid?”

Mullin whipped their head around at the voice, only relaxing when they realized it just Rolan, out on an evening walk. He was passing by that evening - gathering intel, really, but no one really needs to know that - but was curious when he saw the flash of Mulln’s telltale lavender hair dip into the bar. Not one to pass up a conversation with a friend, Rolan followed them. The reason he hadn’t approached them until now was because he simply lost track of them; their dark cloak obscuring their figure.

“Wha- Ro!” A new nickname. Maybe that’s where Vyrn got the habit from?

“‘Ro’?” He asked, taking the seat next to the captain. Their face was flushed, an even blush spreading across their cheeks and even a little on their nose. Their cloak hood had tumbled forward, tilting over to partially cover their face as they pressed their cheek against the bar.

They relaxed into the cool surface, trying to beat the warmth building up in their chest. Stupid alcohol.

"Ro- Rolan. Sorry," Mullin mumbled, leaning up and attempting to make an effort to sit back up. They wrinkled their nose in confusion - Rolan had to admit, that was a little cute - but refrained from asking why he was there. "You wanna sit?"

"Sure, if you'll have me," He replied, moving his chair closer to theirs so he could make sure they wouldn't fall. "So, who's stupid?"

"Hm? ...Oh. No one. 's nothing." Mullin replied, tucking some of their hair behind their ear. "Just... thinkin' out loud."

"What, I can't even guess?" There was a playful tone to Roman's voice, but a genuine curiosity to it. "I bet I could do it in three."

Mullin loves a good gamble. Surely, they'll take the bait. I could probably just do it in one, but...

"Ugh, fine. You're on!"

Gotcha!

Rolan smiled then, and signaled to the barkeeper for another round. "Okay, can I ask questions and then guess?"

"Hmm... you get five questions. But only five, so use them wisely." Mullin said after a moment of silence. They started sipping on their drink again, feeling more refreshed after starting a new challenge.

"Hm..." Rolan looked around the bar, and (as if right on cue) he spotted Rackam's figure near the entrance. Since he was further away, Mullin hadn't noticed, but they were bound to soon. "Okay, first question. Is he tall?"

"How'd you know it was a he? That's a dumb first question, y’know." Mullin retorted, back still towards the door. "But yeah, he's..."

They paused, and thought for a moment: "Mhm. He's tall."

"I could probably guess now, then?"

Mullin turned to look at Rolan, a frown on their lips: "No way. You could try, though."

Rolan's smile grew wider, a bit more teasing now. It's actually kind of fun, watching them get flustered. I wonder...

"I asked a question, so can I guess?" He asked, moving closer to them and wrapping an arm around Mullin's shoulder. Mullin made a noise of confusion at first, but returned their attention back to their bet.

"Okay, fine. Guess."

Rolan thought about it, then remembered the name of one of their crewmates: "Richard, yes? Your gambling friend?"

At that, Mullin barked a laugh, earning a look from the bartender, but nothing more. Rolan shrugged off their dismissal.

"Richard is a good guess, but no. You're down a question and a guess." Mullin smirked, feeling a bit overconfident in their win. Rolan scooted even closer, then, and pressed his knee against theirs. Mullin looked at him - really looked - but made no comment. The touch was warm, and comforting.

Rackam had made his way through the crowd, having bumped into several people on the way in - in an attempt to find Mullin, if Rolan had to guess. Aside from their hair, they looked like every other bar patron. Rolan didn't seem to mind having their attention on him, just for a minute. He had two more guesses, after all.

"Okay, fine, my next question-" Rolan watched Rackam, watched as his hand went to scratch the back of his neck when he questioned another person about Mullin's whereabouts. "Does he fight?"

"What man doesn't, nowadays?" Mullin gestured to the room around them, Zegagrande having been caught in their fued. "What's your next question?"

"That was a dumb one, yeah. Hm..." Rolan leaned in, almost conspiratorially. "Is he close with your family?"

That one caught Mullin off guard: Rolan could almost see the wheels in their head turning as they tried to think of a response through the fogginess of the alcohol coursing through their system. They pouted a little.

"I think he is." Mullin finally replied after a long beat. "He's warm but firm with them."

"Well, that's a good quality to have in your lover, I suppose!" Rolan replied, trying to keep up his ruse of lightheartedness - Mullin huffed.

"He's not my lover! We haven't even... ugh." They looked away from Rolan and turned their attention back to their drink, finishing it in one swift movement. "Bleh. Nevermind."

Now that caught Rolan's attention: "You haven't what? That can be my fourth question."

"...You're cheating the system," Mullin replied, a pout beginning to be permanently fixed on their face, "You won't learn anything from that."

"Are you sure?" Rolan asked. He leaned more into their competitiveness. "If you tell me, I'll make my second guess."

"I-" Mullin faltered for a brief moment, and Rolan took it upon him to tilt Mullin's hood back, exposing their hair. He brushed some of it out of their face. Their blush deepened - his fingers were light and delicate.

"U-Um. We haven't- I haven't told him. That I like him. And-" They realized a new drink had appeared in front of them and took a sip, "-and we've only really hugged."

Rolan smiled the same gentle smile he had been wearing all night: "So, you're drinking by yourself in a dingy underground bar because..."

His hand, which was only resting on one of their shoulders, moved it's way over to the nape of their neck - he could feel the warmth coming off of their body - and he took the risk of running a finger across and up to their ear. Mullin made another noise of surprise.

"Just make your guess," They snapped a little at him, embarrassed at how one small touch could mess with them so easily. "You have two guesses and one question left."

Rolan chuckled. "Fine, fine. My second guess is..."

Despite messing with Mullin, his gaze hadn't left Rackam's figure all evening. He wanted to time this right, see their reaction, but not yet. This is fun.

"...Drang, the mercenary from Phantagrande."

"That's your second guess? I thought you'd be better at this." Mullin replied, an air of smugness coming from them. Rolan clicked his tongue.

"Now, now. I have one more question!" He replied. He glanced over at their drinks: "But you should probably start heading back to the inn."

"What? I'm fine!" Mullin huffed and crossed their arms. "You're a spoilsport."

"Okay, if you really want me to continue..." Rolan sighed - maybe a bit dramatically - and pretended to think of his last guess. "Is he the helmsman of the Grandcypher?"

Mullin rolled their eyes: "Rolan, that one doesn't count."

"Are you sure?" Rolan said, slipping his hand underneath their chin, leaning closer to them. Mullin shuddered at the touch, but made no movement to pull away. He's acting strange tonight. But... they inhaled a shaky breath, their lips parted to speak, but Rolan beat them to it. He leaned over and whispered something into their ear.

"If the answer is no, then..." his breath tickled their ear; his entire being too close to Mullin for their liking. He was acting coy.

"Yes- the answer is yes." Mullin hissed, almost a little too fast - Rolan moved away and Mullin let out a sigh of relief. They snatched their drink from the counter and downed half of it. "Happy?"

Rolan just smiled. At that moment, Rackam had finally found them, walking towards the bar with a scowl on his face. Mullin lit up when they saw him, Rolan's odd behavior put aside.

"Rackam!" They said, almost a little too excited as they saw the helmsman approach the bar. Rolan reached out to steady Mullin, watching as they swayed when they spun around in their seat. His hand made contact with their shoulder - they made a noise of complaint.

"I'm not that drunk, Ro!" They protested, starting to stand. Their fifth drink of the evening rested on the counter - already forgotten by the captain. They tried to straighten out their clothes, brushing down the fabric, but it was ultimately no use.

"Mullin, I think you should sit back down..." Rolan said, gentle with them. I guess our little game is done. This was insightful.

"Rolan, what's going on?" Rackam said - a little short, but not uncharacteristic of him. "I was told to go find 'em and now you're here too?"

"Aha, well, Mullin asked me to join them, and I saw no harm..."

"And that gives you the right to touch them?" Rackam replied, the furrow on his brow increasing ever so slightly. He didn't like it when Mullin accepted other's touch - they didn't like physical contact, not really - so he always got a little worried whenever they were more carefree. (...and he didn't like the way Rolan looked at them).

"O-Oh, well, they're not feeling very well, so-"

"Be nice, Rackam." Mullin pouted at the taller man. "He's just helpin'. But I'm fine though, really!"

"Ah... really?" Rackam replied, giving Rolan a once-over. "Well, okay. If you're sure, Captain."

"You can use my name in public, y’know," Mullin pouted, reaching out to take Rackam's arm. "It's Mullin. Mewwww-lin." They enunciated the first syllable, causing Rackam to flush in embarrassment.

"Mew- Mullin. Captain. I know. C'mon, let's get you back..." He mumbled, helping them to their feet and wrapping an arm around their shoulder; Mullin giggled - giggled? - and held out their arms instead.

"I don't know if I can walk. Could you carry me?"

At that, Rackam coughed and looked away, glancing at Rolan (who seemed incredibly amused), then changed his mind. Well, if it keeps him from helping any more...

"Okay, geez, fine. Just- shh, here-" Rackam stumbled, gently picking them up and holding their head against his chest. His arms held them close, and he tried to ignore the stare from Rolan. Was Rackam easily riled up? No. But something about Rolan's gaze was really pissing him off.

Another giggle from Mullin, who had wrapped their arms around their helmsman's neck and was now playing with his hair. They twirled the brown curls between their fingers, smiling to themself at how soft it was.

"Sheesh. C'mon, Djeeta's waitin' for us." Rackam said, but there was no malice to his words. He still remained gentle with them, as if he had done this before.

"Have a good night, Mew." Rolan said, hiding a smirk behind his hand. "Make sure they drink water!"

He called out. Ah... I'm not sure if I could compete with him. Good luck.

Rackam just gave Rolan a look before he walked back off towards the entrance, carrying a sleeping Mullin with him.

[lady-sunbeam]

Pearls, Part Five

Part Four, Part Six

Masterlist

Summary: Elain and Lucien tour the city. Elain realizes she's in far deeper than she thought.

Word Count: 2.7k

Considering her forwardness in offering Lucien a kiss despite all her time of evading him and his scent of apples and bourbon, Elain thought it rather silly that she found herself so anxious – and yet as Lucien ducked into his own quarters to freshen up, she lingered in the doorframe and tucked her trembling hands behind her skirt.

He’d already kissed her, she reminded herself as she watched the muscles of his back move while he checked the knives strapped beneath his tunic and to his sides. He’d kissed her so brilliantly that the memory of Graysen and the lingering regret of Azriel had been utterly dashed from her mind, burned out the moment his lips roved over hers and his tongue swept into her mouth. She might rationalize that having done it before actually made her more nervous now, for the first kiss could be explained away as a moment of passion, and she could have denied the point that she kissed him back right up until he broke away and she tugged him back down. Even still, her attraction for him could still have been nothing more than the result of proximity to a handsome male and the tug of a bond existing outside of her immediate control.

This promise of something later, though, indicated its thoughtfulness. And the fact that she did not wish to revoke it frightened her.

Lucien looked over his shoulder, arching a brow as he walked towards the door and offered her his arm. Courteously, he said nothing about the mild flush on her cheeks or the wideness of her eyes.

She slipped her hand under and around to rest lightly on his forearm, resisting the incredible and sudden urge to grab hold of his bicep that had a small, dying piece of her mind looking upon her in ever weakening reproach while the rest of her demanded more, more, more.

But Lucien seemed unaware of her struggle with dignity and led her along as if he knew this palace intimately and brought her to the balcony looking out over Day’s capital. She might have asked why, but the shimmering veil of the palace wards faded just at the edge of it and parted over Lucien’s skin like water.

Lucien frowned. “He’s keyed me to the wards already,” he murmured, turning over his shoulder to let his metal eye click and whir. “Just how in hell did he manage that?”

Though there was something dark in Lucien’s eye and an immense sort of sorrow, or perhaps longing, Elain couldn’t help her tiny smile. It seemed appropriate that the male who wished to gift Nyx had a Pegasus would also be the sort to bring his son into his life as quickly as possible, even if he was still reeling.

Hesitating, she said, “You’ll be on the will by dinner.”

It had every chance to offend him, and she would flee right back to the Night Court if it did.

Lucien tipped his head back and laughed.

It was a merry sound that blazed like dawn and was as warm as the sun, and she felt like a cat for all the desire that suddenly flooded her demanding she bask in it forever. The laugh alone should have told her and everyone else who his father was, and it wasn’t for the similar timbre of it, or the rhythm, but for the way it was pure light.

It was the sort of laugh that her giggling softly, and Lucien’s eye widened at the sound. He turned to face her, grinning broadly, and then they were both laughing for no real reason at all, the servants in the hall pausing and looking over with furrowed brows.

She’d deprived herself of him for too long.

Lucien brought her to a small restaurant within the city that lay nestled between a clothier and an old townhome for sale. The bistro was a pale blue, a mural of a wide lake beneath the sun painted across the front, broken up only by windows and the wide-open door.

He led her up the front steps and into the interior – natural wood paneling that groaned, tall windows in the back and front to replace the light lost by having buildings on either side. Stained glass filled them, depictions of various High Lords and heroes, and above, in the ceiling, was a skylight.

They were seated by a small table near one of the stained-glass windows, Lucien pulling out her chair without a word. His eye trailed up the image, and a wry smile touched his mouth, but he said nothing as he turned to her.

“We’ll have to write to your sister,” he said quietly. His low voice rumbled down her spine. “But I don’t think it wise to explain the whole of it.”

In the case of interception. Elain nodded slowly and waited until the waitress had set down two glasses of water before she answered. “I’ll send it. No one would think anything of it, as opposed to their emissary.”

She almost flinched at the word. It just served as a reminder that he would likely not be returning to the Night Court any time soon, perhaps other than to retrieve of any of his personal effects from the apartment across the city, and that a title much larger than emissary awaited him, regardless of how he felt about it. When the time came, the magic would presumably choose him.

But Lucien’s face was perfectly smooth as he perused the menu. “We’ll have to explain the same reasoning to Helion.”

“If nothing else, you know he’s taking it well.”

“Or he’s panicking.” Lucien smiled a bit at her over the menu before setting it down. “I’d rather talk about you, Elain.”

The slow drag of his tongue over each letter had her drooping like on a warm sunny day, the anxious beating of her heart easing until it was almost leisurely. The waitress came and went; she had the vague recollection of ordering and receiving her meal but spent the whole of the time watching him.

“—it washed me out terribly; compared to Feyre and Nesta I was positively wretched.”

Lucien’s eye sparked. The corner of his mouth ticked up in what she now knew to be the precursor to flirtation. If she leaned forward a bit and brushed back her hair so he could see the pearls in her ears, it was entirely coincidental and not at all because she delighted in the hope and attraction that had that tiny smile widening. “You’ve not been wretched a day in your life,” he murmured, and she envied the tea he’d been drinking. Oh gods, what a bizarre thing to feel. “But if I never see you in Night Court black again, I will take that to mean you’ve found a place that feels like home.”

“I love Feyre dearly,” she said quietly. “And Rhys, and Nyx, and all of my family. But as much as I tried, Night was never quite right for me. Never quite my home.”

His eye searched hers as it danced across her face. They’d had a similar conversation at the festival, and though it had only been a few days, it felt as if it were a lifetime past. “It’s too cold,” he said quietly. “At least for me.”

She nodded. “Most of the flowers I prefer don’t grow as easily there. And. . . I would be content to spend all my days outside. But I’d freeze doing that.”

Lucien huffed a soft laugh. “I can’t promise that winter doesn’t ever hit Day, but it’s certainly not as brutal.”

The light through the glass cast dizzying kaleidoscopes across his skin and set his eye ablaze. The sun caught upon the soft sheets of blazing hair and set it burning, just as she was sure to do if he kept looking at her like that.

Eventually, she slipped away to the restroom before her heart could explode out of her chest, hurrying inside and staring into the mirror. Her face was flushed in the aftermath of a compliment, hands trembling with the fear of somehow ruining it. She splashed cool water on her face, watched it drip down her wrists before she located towels and dabbed it up.

Gods, he was gorgeous.

When she returned, the table had been cleared and Lucien was waiting for her. It was only then that she realized what the stained glass was.

Above him towered a man eerily like Helion, with amber eyes and dark skin, broad shoulders and a vague rendering of the nose that had passed to Lucien. The male wore the same crown Helion did, and with the simplicity of the stained glass she might have thought it really was Helion were it not for the young boy sitting at his sandaled feet – Helion’s father, then. And Lucien’s grandfather.

Executed Under the Mountain, she recalled, and the weight of the sorrow rocked her. Lucien had been an adult, had perhaps even met the male, and they’d never known what they were to each other. They’d never gotten the chance.

They spent the remainder of the day exploring the city. She was content not to mention the stained glass, and he said nothing of how she had agreed so quickly to linger in Day. It was not a promise of anything. It was only a kindness, to give him a safe way to meet with his father without fearing for the life of his mother.

The dessert Lucien had wanted to try was a flaky pastry with custard that tasted of lemon and cinnamon. He bought one for each of them and sat on a high wall looking down upon a strip of beach, and while she might have said that the sun was setting and they should return to the palace quickly, the thought never crossed her mind next to Lucien. He’d been keeping an eye out the entire day.

It melted in her mouth, earning a soft moan. If she’d been paying attention, she would have noticed the tips of Lucien’s ears flush, but he only said quietly, “I feared that I would come here and realize it could not be my home.”

Elain’s brows furrowed as she looked over at him. He watched the stars, the ships in the harbor and the people still lounging on the beach. She understood for once what Rhys meant when he claimed the nights in his court were the most beautiful – the stars shone brighter there, the sky a thousand shades of blue and purple and black. The night did not prevail here. Day did, and already she was desperate to watch the sunrise.

“I worried I would come here and feel what I felt when I went to Summer. I visited once, and beautiful as it was, I knew I wouldn’t want to live there. Spring was home because of my friends, but I was bored. It was too refined. And Night’s landscape is harsh, as we’ve discussed. So I thought there might be something that glared out at me, and I did not want to realize that I would be bound to a place I did not love.”

“And?”

Lucien shook his head. “I won’t say it’s home yet. That takes time. But it is the most beautiful place I’ve ever visited.”

Gently, she knocked his boot with her foot and smiled up at him. “The dessert lived up to your expectations, then?”

“It did.” His eye narrowed in on the corner of her mouth, and he gave her a half smile as his hand lifted and inched near her chin. “It seems you did, too.”

His callused thumb brushed against the corner of her mouth, wiping away a bit of crumbling pastry. But his hand lingered. Slid fully against her cheek to cup her face.

Lucien’s breathing had slowed, eye dark and the other perfectly still as her lips parted with the shortness of her breath. It caught his attention like a predatory cat with a swishing tail.

“The lady suggested a kiss,” he murmured. “I find I’m amicable.”

Elain could only nod and lean closer to him. “Good.”

“Good.”

A breathless laugh. “Very. . . very good.”

Slowly, gently, as if time itself had slowed to give them an eternity to make up for the years they lost, his lips claimed hers, warm and leisurely and steady. She opened for his tongue and swallowed the soft, shaky sigh he let out, draping her arms around his neck and tugging herself closer to the heat radiating from him.

His other hand held her waist and drifted to the small of her back, the one on her cheek slipping into her hair and angling her face for better access. A soft, breathy moan left her mouth, and at the very sound of it, the air around them warmed, Lucien’s grip tightening.

She knew he’d go no further unless she asked for it. Was being careful not to frighten her, or himself. And as much as she wanted him to ravish her utterly. . . she still did not know him fully. And this bond between them would only grow to demand more if she took him to her bed.

And after everything that happened today, she didn’t want it to be merely a distraction. She wanted it to be because he loved her, and she loved him, because they were promising something to each other beyond the few weeks or months she would stay in Day.

She pulled back gently, eyes slipped shut, and gently rested her forehead against his to hear the thundering of his heart and the heavy breaths from his mouth. “We should stop.”

He nodded wordlessly.

“I’m sure there’s lipstick on your face.”

A soft huff, but still neither moved, only opened their eyes to look at each other. Lucien’s thumb drifted gently across her high cheekbone, and he murmured, “I didn’t think I’d ever get to do that.”

“And? Now that you’ve had a few.”

“Perfect.” He reached up to smooth her hair with a gentle hand. “You may very well have created a monster.”

“You can’t be worse than Rhys.”

He winced. “I’m sure sharing a house with the pair of them is its own form of horror.”

She laughed softly, stirring his long lashes. “The worst part is when Feyre tries to play it off.” Without thinking, she reached over to straighten his lapels, knuckles brushing against the warm, strong column of his neck. It bobbed beneath her touch. “And then Rhys comes in smiling like a cat with its prey.”

Lucien laughed. “An image I didn’t think would ever exist.”

“You seem to generally be in a state of surprise.”

His eye softened, meeting her own, and the hand that lingered on her back tightened just a fraction. “I consider it to be a good thing.”

“A pragmatist, are you?”

“A realist.”

“Clearly it’s not so real, if you’re always surprised.”

“Fitting, then, that my mate is a Seer.” He leaned back just a bit and thumbed at a bit of smeared gloss on her chin. She did the same to the mess of it on his face, though she didn’t get very far, her hands sticky.

“The servants will have something to talk about,” he muttered dryly as he peered down at her fingers and touched the sticky residue on his face. “As will anyone that walked by in the last ten minutes.”

A dark flush stained her cheeks. Gods, she was losing it.

Lucien turned around and slid down from the wall, offering her a hand to climb down. Where hers shook with adrenaline, his looked surprisingly steady until she took it and found his skin to be unnaturally warm.

He winnowed her back to the balcony without his eye ever leaving hers and escorted her back to her room. He seemed to simmer with something unsaid, so she leaned up on her toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“The theater,” she reminded him quietly. “Tomorrow evening at seven.”

He nodded, stricken by her kiss, and before she could think too long on it or wonder if it had been, for whatever reason, unwelcome, he swept down and pressed a kiss to her forehead. A soft laugh bubbled out of her, but he was already gone.