#and i KNOW that i should talk to her about this but HOW

[musaslullaby]

Is the princess really getting married?

Charles leclerc x fem reader

Summary: The Princess of Monaco is getting married, but the fans don't know who the lucky one is.

Face: people on Pinterest, and the driver.

Warning: fluff, Instagram AU.

A/N: There will be a second part.

Masterlist

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Ynofficial

Description: Me every time they tell me I should go get ready.

Liked by user56, lewishaamilton, and other 948.983.

user43: Yn doesn’t want to be a princess anymore.

user32: Let’s switch places, girl. ❤️ Like to author

yourbrother: Yn, you shouldn’t post these things.

Ynofficial: Don’t be so strict.

yourbrother: I’m just trying to keep you on the right track.

Ynofficial: How boring.

user3: The best princess I’ve ever seen.

user12: This is too funny.

user34: POV: How to pretend not to be a princess.

❤️ Like to author

Ynofficial: POV: It’s not a POV.

user34: YNNNN!!!!

Ynofficial: Yes, that’s my name.

yourbrother: What am I going to do with you? ❤️ Like to author

user78: What do you have to do today?

Ynofficial: Another one of those shoots for something, honestly, I don’t even know.

user23: Wait, you’re doing a photoshoot and you don’t even know what for?

Ynofficial: Exactly.

Ynofficial

Description: At least I have him to keep me company.

Liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, and other 8.483.939.

user45: How cuteeee.

user67: The luckiest little dog in the world.

user221: Yn doesn’t need a boyfriend; she has her dog.

❤️ Like to author

Ynofficial: I totally agree.

yourbrother: He’s the only one who deserves to live in the palace.

Ynofficial: I know you love my son more than me, thanks.

yourbrother: I never said that.

Ynofficial: So, you love me?

yourbrother: You trapped me. ❤️ Like to author

user21: The last photo is worthy of a queen.

user34: Maybe you meant goddess?

user56: Guys, doesn’t that dog look like Leclerc’s dog?

user7: Who’s Leclerc?

f1lover: How can you not know? He’s a god on earth.

user90: He’s an F1 driver who has a dog of the same breed named Leo.

user50: Now that I think about it, they adopted them around the same time.

user54: Coincidence?

Ynofficial

Description: Okay, okay, I have to admit I had fun this time.

Liked by user43, checoperez, and other 98,453.

yourbrother: I told you.

Ynofficial: You usually tell a lot of lies.

user45: I love the relationship between Yn and her brother.

❤️ Like to author

user6: The heir to the Monaco throne.

user7: He’s very kind, I met him.

Ynofficial: Try living with him, then we’ll see.

user21: Were the jewels real?

Ynofficial: Yes, and they’re really heavy too.

user6: I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes.

Ynofficial: The clothes are super uncomfortable tooooo.

user67: But they’re beautiful.

user0: They look amazing on her.

Ynofficial: I can’t wait to take them off.

Ynofficial

Description: A date before saying goodbye.

Liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, and other 4.784.839.

user21: Who are you with, girl?

Ynofficial: With a human being.

user6: The luckiest human in the world. ❤️ Like to author

user5: YN OF MONACO WHAT ARE YOU DOING??

user34: Thank you, Yn.

user1: Whoever it is should thank their lucky stars every day to be with someone like Yn.

❤️ Like to author

user45: So, is she engaged??

user41: Yn, don’t play these tricks on us.

user67: It’s not funny.

user3: I love the dress.

Ynofficial: I don’t, they forced me to wear it.

user56: No way we could afford it.

user32: I wish I were a princess.

Ynofficial: Wish granted, please come take my place.

user6: Guys, isn’t the Monaco GP today?

user5: Oh God, you’re right.

user43: Do you think she’s going to the GP?

user8: I didn’t know she was into F1.

user09: Neither did I.

user5: Yn is the black sheep of the family.

❤️ Like to author

Ynofficial: You’re absolutely right.

user56: That description doesn’t sound like you.

❤️ Like to author

Ynofficial: Sorry, too poetic.

yourbrother: Mom wants to talk to you.

user6: Trouble’s coming.

Ynofficial: Time to run off to Mexico. Checo, will you host me?

checoperez: Whenever you want. ❤️ Like to author

user32: Wait, they know each other???

user9: Did I miss something?

user78: What does this dialogue even mean?

user76: YN?

Ynofficial

Description: Guess who’s not supposed to be wandering around the paddock?

Liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and other 877.473.738.

gp1: YN OF MONACO.

vroom: Wait, they allowed her to go to the GP??

race: I think at least someone from the royal family always has to be there?

user43: YN, DID YOU MEET CHARLES?

Ynofficial: 🤫🤫.

16_55: IT’S A YESSS.

user2: MY TWO FAVORITE PEOPLE MEETING. ❤️ Like to author

yourbrother: Where did you go? Mom’s going to be very angry.

Ynofficial: Cover for me.

yourbrother: Wait, what?

Ynofficial: Thanks, love you.

yourbrother: No, Yn, come back here, we agreed to stay low-key.

Ynofficial: No one will see me.

yourbrother: That includes me too, right?

Ynofficial: Maybe yes, maybe no.

63_: I love this woman.

user42: Is the car comfortable?

Ynofficial: My princess ass didn’t appreciate it.

user21_: That’s why you’re my favorite princess.

Ynofficial: I don’t think you know any others.

danielricciardo: Princess Yn is a fan of mine.

Ynofficial: You’re my childhood.

danielricciardo: I’m not that old.

Ynofficial: Don’t worry, Daniel, it’s hard to accept.

landonorris: Wait, Daniel met her and I didn’t?

maxverstappen1: He’s just privileged.

Ynofficial: I’m coming to you, don’t fight.

user98: Everyone wants Yn. ❤️ Like to author

81_4: She’s anything but a princess.

f1lover: Please marry me.

Ynofficial: Sorry, I’m a bit busy.

Ynofficial

Description: As a good princess, I have to congratulate Charles Leclerc for winning his home race, Monaco. Congratulations, Predestined One.

Liked by charles_leclerc, f1, and other 42.457.473

f1lover: How sweet, Yn.

ferrarifan: After this post, I’m over the moon.

race_: The Monaco curse is broken.

❤️ Like to author

Ynofficial: Yes, but now Charles has to endure at least a month of bad luck.

charles_leclerc: Thank you, Yn. ❤️ Like to author

charles_leclerc: I thank you, Your Highness, for wasting two minutes to make the post. ❤️ Like to author

Ynofficial: Consider yourself lucky.

landonorris: Will the next victory post be dedicated to me?

georgerussell63: Keep dreaming, mate. ❤️ Like to author

oscarpiastri: Charles has reached the pinnacle of his career after this post.

carlossainz55: I can hear him laughing and blushing from here. ❤️ Like to author

maxverstappen1: Princess, may I humbly request your attention? ❤️ Like to author

Ynofficial: I always have my full attention on you, Max Emilian Verstappen.

charles_leclerc: No, today is my day, step aside. ❤️ Like to author

user56: Is Charles jealous??

user45: Max asking for Yn’s attention?

Ynofficial

Description: I can officially say I’m off-limits.

Liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, and other 98,457.633.

yourbrother: I’m so happy for you, little sister.

❤️ Like to author

landonorris: Can I be the best man?

Ynofficial: No, you might show up to the wedding already drunk.

maxverstappen1: You said yesss! ❤️ Like to author

Ynofficial: I said yesss!

georgerussell63: Congratulations, guys.

❤️ Like to author

lewishamilton: Congrats, but honestly, I expected it.

❤️ Like to author

oscarpiastri: He has the eyes of love.

❤️ Like to author

user44: No, okay, we need to figure out who it is.

f1lover: It’ll be the most beautiful wedding ever.

ynlove: Our little girl is growing up.

charleslec_: I hope it’s Charles.

race: It’s definitely a driver.

vroom: I don’t know; it could also be a prince or noble.

user32: I doubt it, knowing Yn.

ynqueen: Love is blind.

user3: Whoever it is, I’m so happy for you.

user77: I’m going to drop a bomb: I think it’s Max.

maxie_: Oh God, yes, can you imagine??

1_11: The best couple ever.

Ynofficial: I like your theories.

user66: Yn, help us, please.

cl16: Has anyone noticed Charles didn’t even comment?

55_: Strange.

Ynofficial

Description: Goodbye, Monaco.

Liked by landonorris, carlossainz55, and other 757.648.

yourbrother: I can’t believe mom let you go.

carlossainz55: Knowing Yn, she would’ve gone anyway. ❤️ Like to author

Ynofficial: My friends know me too well.

user43: Wait, how long have they known each other???

formula1_: More importantly, since when does Yn love F1?

f1lover: It’s a new thing, actually.

race: Yn, princess of the people.

Ynofficial: Always at your service.

landonorris: Now she’s getting a big head.

charles_leclerc: As soon as they offered you to skip your duties, you accepted right away.

Ynofficial: You shouldn’t talk to a princess like that.

charles_leclerc: And you shouldn’t talk to a prince like that.

f1love: WAIT, WHAT DID CHARLES MEAN???

charlesmylife: Guys, Yn deleted it.

charelsofmonaco: No, I don’t understand.

16cl: I arrived too late 😭😭😭.

Flove1: Finally, we have proof that this man exists.

user65: I was convinced it was a joke.

user90: Secret agents of the world, unite, we need to find out who Yn’s boyfriend is.

user67: YN, WE HAVE TOO MANY QUESTIONS.

Ynofficial: And I have zero answers.

user56: Where are you running to, girl?

Ynofficial: Away from nobility.

Ynofficial

Description: I had to try the ice cream in Italy.

Liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, and other 74.673.883.

yourbrother: Bring me some.

Ynofficial: No.

charles_leclerc: I’ll bring it to you.

Ynofficial: Since when are you two so chummy?

f1lover: No okay, we missed something.

race: Something important.

Formula1: Is that Leo or Yn’s dog?

f_1: The numbers don’t add up.

user78: I can’t tell them apart.

user1: They look the same.

landonorris: Good job, Yn, distract him so I can win in Monza.

carlossainz55: NO, YN, BRING CHARLES HERE NOW.

Ynofficial: Now I don’t know what to do anymore.

user56: Yn is a princess even outside of Monaco.

user09: How cute is the guy tying her shoes?

[kazuhaiku]

ᡣ𐭩 unpredicted date

-> synopsis: in which mualani sets up an unpredicted date between you and kinich which leads to silly moments between the two of you.

-> warnings: mildly inspired by that one kimi ni todoke episode, fluff, gender neutral reader, silly kinich, modern!au + tags @ryescapades @lunaritex

You swear you’re going to kill (not literally) Mualani when you see her again.

When she asked you to go out on a girl's night out today, you didn’t expect to see Kinich be the one waiting in front of the aquarium instead of Kachina and Mualani.

Mualani… You sigh, then your phone beeps, signaling a message.

Speak of the devil, Mualani is the one who messaged you, simply sending you a 

mualani have fun with kinich today! you’ll thank me later, promise :3

“Y/N,” Kinich calls out your name, snapping you out of your daze. You manage to give him a small smile as you walk towards him. “Mualani told me that you guys were hanging out today and she invited me to come along but it has been fifteen minutes and she hasn’t arrived yet.”

“I wonder why…” you grit your teeth, and before you can say anything else, Kinich’s phone rings. “Is that her?” you ask, but you already know the answer anyway.

Kinich nods. “Should I put it on speaker mode?” you agree and he clicks the speaker button. “Hello?”

“KInich! I am terribly sorry but I can’t make it to today’s hangout,” Mualani fakes a cough (which sounds too fake, mind you). “Me and Kachina caught a sudden cold-” you can hear Kachina protest in the background before her voice muffles, probably Mualani covering her mouth. “Have fun with Y/N today, yeah? And take lots of pictures.” Mualani ends the call before Kinich can get another word in. He stares at his phone before putting it back into his pocket.

“Well…” Kinich reaches into his other pocket and fishes out two tickets. “Guess that’s why she asked me to hold on to these yesterday.”

“Yesterday?!” you choke on your spit. “Well she’s prepared for the worse…”

“That’s Mualani for you,” Kinich replies. “Let’s go then. We might be lucky and grab the limited edition items in the story.”

You gasp. “How’d you know they are available today?! That’s why I suggested to Mualani that we go early yesterday!”

“I searched them up,” Kinich says. “I thought you would have liked it and I was right.”

You freeze in your tracks. He was thinking about me? The limited items remind him of me? Holy shit-

“Y/N?” Kinich waves a hand in front of your face. “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah!” you shake your head. “Let’s go inside.” 

The aquarium itself is beautiful, filled with different kinds of fish some of which you recognize and some you don’t. You and Kinich don’t talk to each other up until you find a small fish that piques your interest.

“Kinich!” you grab his arm and pull him in the direction of where the fishes are located. You gasp in awe, seeing their beautiful colors. “Look! Look how pretty they are.”

Kinich sees the sign next to the aquarium. “Betta fish.”

“Oh, is that what it’s called?” you ask, eyes still trained on the fishes swimming around. “They’re beautiful…”

Your eyes sparkle as you stare at the fish. Unbeknownst to you, Kinich wasn’t even looking at the fish. He is looking at you. You, who is completely fascinated by the small fish swimming around the small aquarium. You, who has the brightest smile he has ever seen. A smile appears on Kinich’s face before he clears his throat and looks away, a tint of red appearing on his cheeks.

“Sorry, Kinich!” you apologize, though he doesn’t know what you’re apologizing for. “Are there any other things you want to look at?” you turn to look at him only to see him staring at an empty corner. “Kinich..? You okay?”

“Yeah,” Kinich murmurs. “Wanna go get the limited items?”

“You’re right!” you exclaim and once again take his hand in yours. “Come on! We have to hurry!”

The merchandise store is empty when you arrive, which means that the limited items aren’t sold out yet.

“Excuse me! We’re here for the limited items you guys sell!” you exclaim, almost out of breath.

“You’re just in time! This is the first time we’re releasing a limited item for couples!” the employee responds, bringing up two small octopus plushies. “Here we are. Two octopus plushies for the lovely couple.”

You choke on your spit. “W-Wait we’re not-”

“Thank you.” Kinich takes the plushies from the employee without denying their words. “Here.” Kinich hands you the cuter-looking one, and you accept it almost hesitantly. The employee bows as you leave the store.

You keep quiet as soon as you reach the exit and Kinich notices. “You okay? Why are you being so quiet?”

“Um… You heard what the employee said before, right?” you ask and Kinich nods. “Weren’t you going to deny her words..?”

“Was it uncomfortable for you?” Kinich asks.

“No, no! It was just unexpected. I thought you were going to deny it immediately.” you hold the octopus closer to you. “It just shocked me a bit. But on a serious note, thank you for hanging out with me today, Kinich.”

“It’s my pleasure. I like going out with you and um,” Kinich looks away. “We can do this again if you want to… Just the two of us.”

Your eyes brightened. “Really?” he nods. “Okay! I promise I’ll come ask you to go out with me some other time.”

“Okay,” Kinich replies. “Let me walk you home?”

Knowing Kinich’s slightly stubborn attitude, you accept his proposal. The walk back home is filled with silence, but you can’t ask for anything better.

(Mualani later sent a picture she took of you and Kinich in the aquarium. Kinich was looking at you with the cutest smile on his face as you are focused on the Betta fishes).

[woso-dreamzzz]

Injured (Alba's Version) IV

Alexia Putellas x Teen!Reader

Summary: The aftermath

*TW: parental neglect, aftermath of suicide*

It takes Alexia nearly a week until she realises you're missing.

You're self-sufficient and independent. You've never needed much and it's not weird for Alexia to not see you for days on end.

You come home from whatever you spend your days doing and go straight to your room.

You make your own meals, she's pretty sure because she never has to make extra. Just enough for a family of three. Two when Olga is away from work.

It's a fleeting thing really, the only way that she realises you've disappeared.

She knocks on your door, intent on finally having that conversation about what you're planning on doing with your future.

There's no answer.

"Now's not the time to sulk, y/n," She calls through the door," If you don't come out then I'm coming in!"

Still silence.

"One! Two!"

Alexia doesn't wait for three, shoving open the door.

She expects to see you on your bed, sulking or whatever it is you do when she's not around.

You're not there though.

Your bed is made. Your clothes are packed away.

There's nothing out of place. Nothing to prove that this room was even really yours apart from a few neat stacks of paper on your desk.

Alexa glances over them, frowning as if they'd give her the answer to where you've gone.

She's been home since last night, the first one up and awake in the house. There's no way you could have snuck past her.

"Jaume!" She yells out," Where's your sister?"

"I don't know! Out with friends or something?"

That's odd.

Alexia can't remember the last time you mentioned a friend to her. To be honest, Alexia can't remember the last time the two of you actually had a conversation.

She shuffles through the papers on your desk.

Yes, she thinks, you must be with friends because there's three tickets to a ballet performance on Saturday.

You must be wanting to take them with you.

It's only when Alexia sits up that night, waiting for you to come home, that she gets the sinking feeling you're not coming back.

She waits for hours until the early hours of the next morning and the sun begins to rise before panic lances through her chest.

You've not come home.

She checks her phone, wondering if she missed a text saying you would stay at a friend's house but there's nothing.

She checks your room, just to see if you've climbed in through the windows but they're locked.

You are nowhere.

She pulls Jaume out of school for the day. She calls Olga to come home from Madrid.

She scours all of the places she thinks you hang out but you're nowhere to be seen.

It's almost like you've never existed in the first place.

The call comes in the evening.

It's Alba.

"I can't talk right now," Alexia says after two missed calls," I'm-"

"I'm sorry," Alba says instead.

"What?"

"I'm sorry." Alba chokes her words out like they're so physically painful she can barely say them. Like she's so numb that even talking is difficult. "I tried but..."

"Alba? What's happened? Listen, I really can't talk right now. I'm-"

"I really did try. They did too but it was already too late."

"Alba, what is going on?"

"We should go to the hospital," Alba says," I'll send you which one."

In the deepest pit of her chest, Alexia already knows what has happened. In some deep, dark part of her, she's known since Alba called. In the worst, most hidden piece of herself, Alexia has known since the beginning.

It's an awful thing for an aunt to see.

It's a terrible thing for a brother to see.

It's even worse for a mother to see.

A picture goes up at the ballet company.

(Alexia didn't even know you joined one).

It's of you smiling, the headhsot that they used on the website, displayed proudly in the main foyer.

'Rest In Peace' sits under it and a little plaque with your name and how long you lived. It states your interests with no hint about trains at all. It talks about your reserved disposition but mentions how you endeared yourself to everyone.

Flowers sit under it, bouquets upon bouquets from the dancers and the staff and audience members who have seen you perform.

(Alexia has never been to a performance once).

Support pours in from people Alexia hasn't spoken to in years. Old coaches. Old teammates. Old friends.

Everyone seems to have a fond memory of you but all Alexia can think about is the last words she said to you.

She can't remember them.

She can't remember what she said or how she felt or what she was doing.

There is a gap in her memory from that moment.

Everyone talks about you so fondly, with such clarity that Alexia can't replicate.

You have gone on a wisp of breeze and Alexia is left trying to catch the impossible.

Her mind circles around herself, trying to work out where this all went wrong.

She loved you. She loved you so much.

Her beautiful baby girl who was a little nervous and a little quiet but beautiful all the same.

The little girl who loved trains and ballet and doing all the super feminine stuff that Alexia had to learn when she was a bit older.

The people around her tell stories of you, like Ingrid talking about how you used to love having her braid your hair back but Alexia sits there numb.

She's been numb since she saw your body in the hospital morgue.

She's been numb since the funeral where you lay in your coffin, perfectly peaceful like you were taking a long sleep.

She's been numb since they all returned to Eli's house for food and drink to celebrate your life.

Alba is not talking to her, has not talked to her outside what is needed since she called.

Alexia hasn't even noticed, too preoccupied with the realisation that she's a mother that just had to bury her daughter.

It was not a disease that took you. It was not a heart attack. It was not a random attack on the street.

It was you.

You made this decision, decided that this world was not worth living in anymore. That you could no longer cope with everything happening around you.

Things that Alexia has no knowledge on and, now, will never have any knowledge on.

You thought that this path was better than returning home.

You thought that everything would be better, more peaceful if you took your life away.

People have been cautious around Alexia, seeing just how close she is to tears.

She didn't cry during the funeral when you were lowered down into the ground with nothing but a neat blouse and a skirt.

Nothing to take with you now that you're gone.

Olga had to pack your things away in your room because Alexia could not force herself to even step through the doorway.

Your things are gone.

You are gone.

And Alexia will never know why.

[foldingfittedsheets]

A basic human skill that people usually lock down around the age of three or four is impulse control. To conceptualize an action and it’s consequences before taking it. Maybe considering how that action affects other people. We then refine it through most of our childhood.

When I was a teenager my hold on this ability became… tenuous. I became a volatile and dangerous creature.

It’s probably not unique to me, but I had a perfect storm in terms of mental upsets. I had just mastered enough basic social skills, so I finally had a strong group of friends when my dad suddenly needed to move for work. Ripped away from my support network, blooming with hormones, I was dragged to Arizona. I was always a child of forests and mist and suddenly everything was hot, dry, and extremely pointy and aggressive.

Additionally to being abruptly transplanted I found myself an object of affection in a way I’d never been before. Lonely and desperate to make friends the only people who wanted to spend time with me had romantic designs. I just wanted to figure out my shit but I had a baby lesbian flirting with increasing aggression in art, a soft boy making heart eyes at me in biology, a senior nerd asking if I wanted to play Halo at his house and could he hold my hand?

Reader, I snapped. I didn’t want this romantic attention but I also didn’t want to be alone. My brain coped the only way it knew how, by simply cutting out decision making. Any action was the right action to take.

It started with the boy in biology. I’d stolen his pencil out of mischief and to my overwhelming fury instead of trying to steal it back he just softened his eyes and chucked me gently under my chin, a gesture so overtly sweet and romantic that I saw red.

I stabbed him with his own pencil.

I honestly and truly have no memory of it. It happened as fast as a snake striking and I was instantly filled with terrified remorse. Unfortunately that manifested as psychotic giggling.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t- I don’t know why- I’m so sorry!” I said, while hysterically laughing. I ended up having lodged some graphite in his palm and had to tweeze it out with my nails while apologizing furiously. (It’s very important to note here that he forgave me and we’re still friends)

That was weird, I thought. Why didn’t I think before I stabbed someone?

The next event was equally catastrophic, and I had even less reason to do it. In gym with two girls I was tentatively befriending, we were warming up running laps. I started racing one of them. At breakneck speed we were sprinting around the gym.

This time, there was a blip of thought before I fucked up. I should get the other girl! I have no idea why or what the plan was but I turned on a swivel and body checked the other girl. We both fell down in immense pain. I think that’s the moment I broke my tailbone. Her knees were horribly bruised and she looked at me in bewildered pain. “Why did you do that?!”

I had no idea. I apologized and helped her up, both of us hobbling like newborn horses, bruised and hurting.

By this time there’d been enough social upheavals that I was reduced to spending time with some girls I had nothing in common with and low key disliked. Sat at a table listening to this girl talk about how she wanted to be a stripper when she grew up I thought, You’d better put the cap on before you throw it.

I then chucked my empty water bottle directly at her face. It bounced off her forehead with a bop! that would have made a sound mixer weep at its perfection.

All eyes turned to me is startlement. I stared back at her, stunned by my own action, just as confused as everyone else at the table as to why I’d done that. One of the girls to my right said, “Were you trying to hit that fly?”

“Yes!” I lied, “I’m sorry, I thought I could hit the fly!”

Everyone laughed at my antics and I joined in rather than admit I had just chucked something at her for no reason.

Things did start to improve after that. I solidified a friendship with the girl I’d raced (who I developed a massive crush on and ten years later would go on to date). My outbursts turned more whimsical rather than aggressive. Like accosting a girl leaving the cafeteria to look deeply into her eyes and say with great compassion, “It’s going to be alright.”

My new friend and I snuck into the van that delivered our cafeterias baked goods and lay giggling in the back. When I’d impulsively hopped in she’d joined me and made it a game.

After a year in Arizona I broke down crying to my mother, an act of great desperation, and we ended up moving back home. My impulse control returned to normal teenage levels and life resumed in a happier state of mind.

[tojisun]

(quietly) oh god thinking about kyle falling in love with his new neighbour.

How he was just going to crack open a window to let the breeze in only to stop at the sight of his neighbour and her daughter dancing in the rain, twin smiles tugging at their lips as they hop around in their front lawn, feet digging into the muddy parts of their grass garden, letting the water splash out.

Laughter trickles from the two, and it tickles Kyle’s ears, filling him up with such longing he can’t even put a proper name to it.

She is the single mother who moved from another country.

Why she settled in this little suburb, Kyle doesn’t know but he’s thankful of her because there are times when he forgets about many things—himself, for one; the touch of soft blankets and the feel of warm water, for another—but somehow he always finds himself snapping back to his body at seeing her.

At hearing her.

She is beautiful. She is beyond beautiful. She is—

God, how can anyone have that much fortitude and strength and love? How can anyone see the world so optimistically; so full of wonder?

“Oh, you,” she’d murmured, shy, when Kyle had told her of his thoughts, and he watched as her eyelashes brushed against her cheeks at her quiet chuckle.

Kyle’s throat had gone parched—he has never felt this type of yearning before; one that makes him full even when he’s yet to eat anything. One that lulls him to a quiet sleep like his mind and his body have finally found their centre of gravity; like they’re no longer unyielding nor unforgiving. But kind.

Filling. Wondrous.

“It’s because of my little duckling,” she continued, eyes crinkling in her delight. She turned to her snoozing daughter. “I would have been lost without my darling Pen.”

She looked at Kyle then, smiling like he wasn’t just a kind stranger. Like he wasn’t just a nobody.

Kyle stares at the them now, his lips quivering as he watches them dance and splash and giggle to each other. Their laughter sounds like chimes. Like twinkling bells. Like what home sounds.

Kyle stares at them now, wondering if he could ever be part of their family.

(He already is. Have been, for a while now.

Penelope adores Kyle. So much so that she would not stop asking you when could she play agIn with the kind man next door.

She tells you that Kyle is so patient—not in those words, but she tells you that Kyle always asks more about her stories, and asks her who are her friends and which of her collection of toys is her favourite.

And Pen is still too young to understand the word ‘patience’ but she tells you how Kyle is nothing but.

How he never once rejects her tea time invitation, even if the tea is just bottled sweet tea and grocery store cupcakes that you were able buy that week.

How he never once asks why she doesn’t know how to tie her shoelaces, and instead teaches her time and time again. That he never gets snappy even if she keeps forgetting.

She even recounts to you how excited she had been when Kyle showed up for the dad-daughter dance hosted at her school. He’d asked for your permission then, going shy as he stuttered out his, “But I don’t want to impose and you can say no, I swear, and we can just ignore this and—”

“Kyle,” you murmured, your eyes prickling with tears. “I’d be honoured if you were there for Pen.”

He said something to you then. It was a slip of his tongue, clearly something he didn’t want you to hear, and you honoured his wishes but when a man like Kyle—

No.

When Kyle says, “I wish I can be there f’r you too.” What is the natural reaction if not to let him know that he can?

That you want him too?)

(Penny likes Mr. Kyle.

He talks funny, like the many others in this new country.

Mama said it’s not nice to say that Mr. Kyle talks funny but Mr. Kyle is not angry. He just laughs with Penny, and says she should hear his best friend, Mr. Johnny, talk.

Penny is told Mr. Johnny sings more than he talks. Penny giggles at the idea of it.

Penny likes Mr. Kyle.

He is warm and he always has toffee in his pocket for Penny.

He also laughs loud, like the one from the belly, and she thinks that his laugh fills their house with how loud it is. Mama said that Mr. Kyle laughs loud so that the monsters under Penny’s bed would leave. Penny cried and said many thanks to Mr. Kyle after that.

Penny likes Mr. Kyle.

He…

He makes mama happy.

Not the way Penny makes mama happy. No one can make mama more happy than Penny could! But he buys her flowers and donuts and- and books! Adults are so weird.

Books are no fun.

Sometimes she wished Mr. Kyle can be her real dad.)

[spiderbeam]

Here's a concept: I've been stuck on the idea of a dork reader who develops a small crush on Franco and works on her Spanish to impress talk to him but her pronunciation makes what she says borderline offensive/obscene and she knows it as she says it and starts apologizing and it's super awkward and embarrassing for her but I see Franco as being charmed that she put in the effort?

ohh i actually had to think about this one (and it got a little away from me) but. i can see this as either an mechanic!reader or engineer!reader from williams.

you’ve recently befriended franco. and in your opinion, he makes it too easy. i mean—it’s not many drivers that go out of their way to greet everyone in the team every weekend without fail once they arrive on the paddock. but franco does. and he’s been doing so well, and you can’t help the fondness you’re starting to harbor for him. it’s his smile—you’re sure of it. but it’s also his determination to make the best of the few races he has, it’s how utterly drained he looks after every race but smiles and jokes anyway—how hard he is on himself when he doesn’t perform as he wishes. and you’re always having to remind him that he’s been doing this for three races. you find it you enjoy his company a lot more than you should.

you’ve been working on a little side-project during your free time.

now, you know you’re not gonna be able to learn an entire language in the span of eight races. and spanish is hard. but you’re determined to try your best to learn a few phrases.

buena suerte. good luck. lo haras increíble. you’ll do great. vas con todo. give it your all. but even then, they feel impersonal. so, you move away from standard phrases and try to learn one for him.

you find your moment after free practice, sitting inside franco’s driver room as you sit besides him. he’s tired, but with an excited energy he can’t seem to shed. your thigh is nudging against his, his hand inching closer to yours, and you decide to do it now before you chicken out.

you meet his gaze with an encouraging smile on your lips. “estoy muy orgullosa de como cogiste el auto.”

and franco is drinking from his water bottle as he faces you, and you can see the moment he stops, and coughs—and continues coughing. you stare at him in bewilderment.

his voice is scratchy and hoarse when he says, “¿cómo? yo no—what?” he coughs again, and there’s a red blush on his cheeks that wasn’t there before.

“what?” you blink, embarrassment lodging itself inside your throat. “i just, i’m proud of you—of how quickly you got the hang of the car.” you can feel heat spreading across your cheeks as you start rambling. “i know it’s been a really tough transition, and you’ve been doing so well and—” you swallow sharply, clamping down your jaw to prevent yourself from digging yourself an even deeper hole.

franco blinks at you. “oh.” a laugh escapes him, a smile pulling at his lips as humiliation blooms in your chest. “oh, corazona,” franco coos, tilting his head with a look that makes your heart skip a beat. there’s a glint in his eyes you can’t seem to place. “since when have you been learning spanish?”

“not that long…” you look away from him, fidgeting with your fingers. “i just wanted to, y’know, congratulate you like you deserve.”

franco clicks his tongue, resting his forehead against your shoulder. “that’s really sweet,” he says softly, “and it means a lot. but i think you’ve been learning spain spanish.”

you blink, turning your head slightly. he rests his chin on your shoulder to meet your gaze. “um… i think so? i didn’t think it would make much of a difference.”

“it does.” franco chuckles again. “cause in spain, coger means to grab, but in argentina…” his tongue swipes along his canines, lips twitching upward into an amused smirk. “…coger means to fuck. and i think i’d remember if i’d had sex with a car.”

“oh my god.” mortification must be too evident in your face, because this time, franco laughs louder than before. it’s a laugh that rattles his chest, that makes his body vibrate against yours.

“don’t worry,” he says after a beat. he leans closer to you, his lips brushing against your ear. “it’s cute.”

a/n: ohhhh this one definitely got away from me. idk if i should even count this as a ramble cause it could be a drabble 😭 franco is my achilles heel i’m sorry

send me concepts ✉️

[a-b-riddle]

check tags for warnings

In the mood to write angst. Imagine you’re the conscientious observer who accidentally sees how your team talks about you behind your back.

Your morals were… complicated. You didn’t believe in killing anyone. Your faith told you that killing someone is wrong and even if it’s to save your life, handling a gun is something that doesn’t sit well with you. You’ve been to gun ranges. Mandatory for your position in the military that you have basic fire arm knowledge. But having something in your hands that could so easily take a life made you uneasy.

You were pescatarian, but tried to limit meat. Cried anytime you saw chickens in those trucks heading toward their demise. You fed stray cats around your house back home. You tried to be kind and cherished life in all most of its forms. The exception being garlic butter shrimp that was too good to give up and anytime of bug resembling a cock roach. And yes, palmetto bugs were still cock roaches.

And wasps.

Fuck wasps.

At the same time, you were pro-choice. Initially, you were pro-choice for other women, but you didn’t think you would have the strength to get an abortion. It wasn’t until you were holding your friend’s hand as she got her D&C that your views on your own body autonomy changed. It didn’t have to be medical to be necessary.

But you still refused to hold a weapon. Which is why even though you were a very talented medic, you were always judged for not carrying any sort of defense while in the field.

But no one on base would dare say anything to you about it. At least not to your face…

You got stuck instructing a training seminar when your phone continued to buzz in your back pocket. But even with the consistent messages, you didn’t falter by showing the newest members how to give basic first aid until health could arrive.

Nearly two hours later, you finally fish your phone out to see what’s going on.

Dozens of text messages in a group chat between you, Captain Price, Johnny, Kyle and Simon. You had gotten close to them over the last few months. You were halfway through your contract and were already dreading leaving knowing they were staying behind until the job is done.

You open it, your phone taking you to the first unread message.

Cpt.: Hows the arm healing up?

Soap: Fine. Hen did a good job of keeping the sutures nice and even. Should barely scar.

Gaz: Wouldn’t have a scar if she just fucking carried.

Soap: You think she honestly would even know what to do with a gun if you gave her one Garrick 😂

Ghost: Still think she’s a liability. Someone who won’t raise arms against an enemy isn’t meant to be on the team.

Cpt: Already tried. Laswell says we need the numbers. As long as she does her job there’s nothing I can do. We can’t be down a medic and it’s either her or nothing.

You shook as you continued reading the conversation.

Liability. Coward. It went on and on about how weak you were. Why couldn’t you just carry a small pistol instead of expecting everyone else to keep you safe.

It then switched to your personality. No one should be that happy. Annoying. A yapper. Couldn’t get a word in most of the time.

On and on they went until you realized they spoke so freely because they didn’t realize you were in this group chat. What did they say when you weren’t around?

You felt like a fool having extending more than just trying to be a civil coworker, but a friend. Taking on tasks that weren’t your responsibility simply to help them.

Getting a floral arrangement delivered for Johnny’s sister after she had given birth. Talking on the phone to the nursing home where Price’s mother resided trying to sort out her insurance. Taking priority Kyle when he was injured after falling out of a plane (both times) over your other patients. And always having the electric kettled going in the morning so Simon could have his tea without waiting too long.

You were helpful. Just because you had one boundary didn’t mean their words held any merit. But still you couldn’t help the deep feeling of just… betrayal? Rejection? You weren’t sure there was a word fitting enough to sum up how utterly stupid you felt.

Maybe they were right. This wasn’t a civilian setting. This wasn’t just life and death for your patients, but for you. You were out in the field with no form of protection except from others.

You weren’t abandoning your morals. You couldn’t. Not when every fiber of your being told you to remain steadfast. There was only one solution.

You didn’t have much to pack. Uniform was issued to you. Your stethoscope and some other tools came out of your own pocket. Your laptop, phone, charges. You packed all your lounging clothes and miraculously everything fit into a military duffle. Which wasn’t actually anything impressive given how big those things are.

You were confident in your decision even if it made you feel like a failure.

As you stood outside the office door you returned back to the group chat. One by one you proceeded to block all of them. You knew when you left the group they would know that the notification would pop up and they either wouldn’t give a shit that you finally knew what the actually thought of you or they tried messaging you to make amends to cover their asses. You weren’t sure which was worse.

Once you had blocked the last one, you left and knocked on the door that you had been idling in front of. A faint ‘come in’ was granted before you walked through.

“Hey, Kate.” You greeted. “Can we talk?”

[magniloquent-raven]

Day 4: Supportive Boyfriends

and for my next (LATE, SO LATE) @bucktommypositivityweek contribution. KITTEN FIC.

(read on ao3)

**

The 118 doesn't have a baby box.

In fact there aren't any in the state of California at all. Buck looked it up, after Maddie's postpartum episode. When half his family was missing and there wasn't much he could do besides wait and... think about things.

So he thought about safe haven laws. Read up on the training seminars for first responders who want to be better equipped to deal with hand-offs. Read a bunch of other stuff he sort of wishes he hadn't. Spent the next week haunted by articles about abandoned children.

He considered talking to Bobby about it. Only partly to ask him if they should get a box for the firehouse. Partly because Buck wasn't sure how he felt about the whole thing, and Bobby always seemed to have answers. But he never worked up the nerve to broach the subject.

And now. Bobby's not captain anymore, and Buck really can't imagine Gerrard giving a shit about any of this.

So, they don't have a box. But.

Well, this isn't a human baby. It's not like the same rules apply.

Buck has to wonder if wires got crossed somewhere, because. Someone left a kitten. Outside the firehouse.

Buck was just going to grab something—he can't remember what—from his Jeep, when he spotted an unlabelled cardboard box on the pavement, up against the side of the building. His first thought was bomb.

Until it meowed at him. A tiny, high-pitched peep of a meow.

Kind of scared the shit out of him, if he's being honest.

There's only one. All alone in the box. A poofy grey thing wriggling around half buried in an off-white towel. Like a very ambitious dust bunny with big round blue eyes and skinny legs. It wobbles slowly over a fold in the towel with all the effort of someone scaling a mountain.

Buck crouches next to the box, and pokes a finger inside.

"Hey, buddy," he murmurs, holding very still while the kitten inches towards his hand and squeaks. It's unclear whether there are teeth in that little maw. That means it's really young, right? Too young to be left alone for very long.

Shit, how is he going to explain this to Gerrard? He's still got, like, 12 hours left on his shift, but someone has to feed this thing. How long can kittens go without food?

Oh, it does have teeth. Really teeny ones. They're ineffectively poking his knuckle.

Buck fishes his phone out of his jacket—with the hand that isn't currently being drooled on—intending to go to Google for answers. How to figure out how old a kitten is. How often do kittens need to be fed. Do cats get separation anxiety. He has a million questions.

Only he doesn't pull up his browser. He calls Tommy.

It's a whim. Barely a seed of an idea. But when he unlocked his phone the first thing he saw was their text history (he'd been complaining about Gerrard off-and-on all morning, and Tommy had been sending random updates about all the chores he'd been getting done—his last message was a picture of a mop with no context) and he just thought... Tommy will know what to do. Not in so many words, more a feeling. Comfort and certainty, just from seeing Tommy's picture in a little bubble at the top of his screen.

"Evan?" Tommy answers almost immediately, and there's a subtle undercurrent of worry in his tone. Buck winces. Right, calling out of the blue while he's at work would look. Bad.

"I'm okay!" He says quickly, all in one breath. Then pauses. The kitten squints up at him, meowing again, long and loud. Its whole fluffy face scrunches with the effort.

"...What was that?"

"Uh. That would be why I called, actually."

—

Gerrard is less of an obstacle than Buck feared he'd be. Because he's holed up in his office doing paperwork when Buck sneaks in with the kitten, and Buck's decided he has no intention of letting him know the cat was ever here.

Tommy promised he'd come get her.

Buck didn't even really ask, and wasn't planning on asking. Didn't have any plan whatsoever, in fact. He just wanted to know if Tommy knew anything about taking care of kittens, and suddenly Tommy's voluntarily sacrificing the rest of his day off to scope out vets and pet supply stores and whatever else Buck's helpless little friend might need.

He hung up hours ago and his insides still feel warm and goopy about it. He can't stop thinking about the gentle fondness that softened Tommy's voice after Buck explained the situation. Buck would wrap himself up in it like a blanket if he could.

Tommy's getting so kissed when he shows up.

In the meantime, Buck's sitting upstairs, working his way through the dozen or so tabs he opened up after googling kitten care.

He thinks the one he found might be around three weeks old (ears not quite unfurled, can't sheathe claws yet, legs unsteady but mobile). And possibly a girl. She did not care for being picked up and turned over, and the indignant squirming made it difficult to tell what's going on down there. But he's almost certain he's right.

She was shrieking up a storm about it, and he was worried if he took any longer she'd alert Gerrard. (She didn't. She did, however, draw the attention of about half the firehouse.)

"You are disgustingly cute," Chimney coos, scratching under her chin with the tip of one finger. She's lifted her head as high as she can and her eyes are squinted happily. Buck can hear her purring from across the room. "Yes you are. Hen, can you get a picture of this?"

Hen pulls out her phone. "Sure... why?" She asks, leaning over his shoulder to snap a picture and eye him with mild suspicion.

"Jee. She'll wanna see when I tell her about my day."

Her expression softens to a smile. "I'll text it to you." She taps her screen a couple times. "Just had to make sure you weren't planning on calendar campaigning again."

Chimney grins. "Nah, my calendar days are behind me. The only person who gets shirtless pictures of me now is my wife."

"Gross," Buck says without conviction. He narrows his eyes at the site he's scrolling through, swiping away a Join Our Mailing List! popup. "You guys don't think she's cold do you? Are her ears warm? It's only, like, 70 today and we don't know how long she was out there."

Hen and Chim exchange glances, and then, disturbingly in sync, look from the cat to Buck. Chim gives her ear a perfunctory poke, which she does not appreciate as much as chin scritches, "She's fine, man."

Hen waves a hand at Buck when he opens his mouth again, "We're medical professionals. And in my medically professional opinion. She's fine."

"Okay, but—"

"Hey guys, look who stopped b—uhhh. Is that a cat?" Eddie slows to a stop at the top of the stairs, blinking at the kitten on the couch. "When did we get a cat?"

"Couple hours ago," Buck says, still frowning at Hen and Chimney. "Where have you been?"

"I found him polishing the engine."

Buck shoots out of his seat. "Tommy!"

He only half-hears Eddie muttering, "Favouritism," as he scuttles around the chair to meet Tommy halfway between the stairs and the sitting area. Tommy has just enough time to smile—and it warms Buck, like it always does, with a spark caught in his chest for safekeeping—and say hi before Buck's on him, palms clapped on either side of his face, smushing their lips together.

He makes a bit of a show of it, dramatically swooping in, because he knows the big smacking MWAH will make Tommy laugh, and he likes the way that feels rumbling against his chest.

Buck taps their noses together. "Hey," he says, savouring the mirth sparkling in Tommy's eyes for a second before kissing him again, properly this time.

His brain goes sort of fuzzy when Tommy's palm cups the back of his neck.

Someone in the distance wolf-whistles.

When they finally come up for air Tommy asks, "What was that for?" a little breathlessly, which is doing things to Buck.

"Mmn...y'know. For being you."

Tommy raises his eyebrows, kiss-reddened lips curling fondly. "Okay."

"Hey, Tommy. Good to see you," Chim calls in a very pointed way.

Right, public setting. Workplace. Friends watching. Buck exhales slowly, and tries to think about anything other than how much he wants to bite that bit of clavicle peeking out of the collar of Tommy's shirt. Like the fact that Tommy's hands are warm, and he's sort of rubbing his fingertips over the short stubbly bits of hair on the back of Buck's head, and Buck's lips are still tingling a little, and—no wait, not that either.

Tommy pulls away first, which is probably for the best, but also very sad. The corner of his mouth twitches like he can see Buck thinking it. He curls his index finger and gently taps Buck's chin with the knuckle before he turns to the group.

"Howie," he says, not even pretending to be contrite in the face of Chim's mock-judgement. "Hen."

"Tommy." Hen fails to contain her smirk.

Some time during all the kissing, Eddie moved over to the couch. He's sat next to the kitten, watching her attempt to groom her paw with all the grace of a toddler who's only a little bit sure they know how to hold a brush. She keeps starting and stopping at random intervals, sometimes licking the cushion beside her, sometimes sticking her tongue out at thin air.

She's so cute it makes Buck's chest hurt. It's a little much while he's still loopy from making out with his boyfriend.

Then Tommy goes and crouches next to the couch so he can get eye-level with the kitten while she sniffs his hand, talking to her all calm and soft with smile-lines crinkling his cheeks, and. Buck might need to lie down for a bit. Like, on top of Tommy, preferably.

The kitten seems to like him too, and he really can't blame her when she crawls up Tommy's sleeve to perch on his shoulder.

She looks so much smaller cuddled up on Tommy. He reaches up to steady her, and she's almost entirely obscured by his hand.

God, is it wrong that he's getting a little hot under the collar about that? He just looks so strong and competent and at the same time, like, gentle. Buck knows how it feels to be touched tenderly by those hands, and apparently just seeing it happen does not affect him any less. In fact it's only added dimensions to his desires.

"I should probably get going," Tommy says, bringing Buck back down to Earth with a resounding splat.

He opens his mouth to protest, then closes it. He's right. The last thing Buck wants is for Tommy to have another run-in with Gerrard, and they don't know how long the old bastard's gonna be occupied.

"Mhm, run while you still can," Chimney pipes up. "Before our dear old captain smells an opportunity to ruin someone's day."

"He does seem to have a sixth sense for that," Eddie adds sullenly. Buck makes a note to ask him what that was about. Later.

"I'll walk you out," Buck says, trying not to sound like a pouting child. He's fairly certain he fails, because Tommy laces their fingers together and gives his hand a comforting squeeze.

He says his goodbyes, the whole time being careful not to dislodge the kitten while she crawls across his shoulders.

Buck goes through the list of kitten care basics he memorized as they make their way to the parking lot. It's...more than he thought it was, honestly. It starts to feel overwhelming as he goes on, and on, and on. He's running out of time to get it all out, and he feels like it's just now sinking in his huge this responsibility that he's dumping in Tommy's lap is.

"You're sure you don't mind taking her?" The question bursts out of Buck before they make it to Tommy's car. "W-we didn't really, I mean. We talked about it over the phone, but..."

"Yeah, now that I've seen her she does seem like a real handful."

The kitten yawns, and curls up into a tiny grey ball in the crook of Tommy's neck.

Well. Alright.

"It's just, t-they need a lot of attention when they're that young, and I kinda just, just dropped this on you."

"Evan." Tommy gives him a look. "Are you worried that you baby-trapped me?"

Okay, when he puts it like that. Maybe a little bit. But also now he's having complicated yearning feelings that he really should not be having this early in the relationship.

Buck's pretty sure he looks like a deer in the headlights right now, because Tommy's doing his damnedest to pretend he isn't laughing at him.

He tugs Buck's hand, leading him the rest of the way to his car.

The backseat is full of cat stuff. Containers of milk-replacement powders, and a shiny plastic litter box, and toys, so many toys, baggies of fake mice and feathery things, just. So much stuff. Piles of it.

"I called up a friend who used to foster kittens. She had a lot of advice. And then I got a little carried away."

"I, uh. See that," Buck laughs breathlessly.

"Over the phone, you sounded like this meant a lot to you? And I think I got really attached to the idea of...this. Taking care of her for you. With you." He sounds hesitant, like he's trying not to say too much, and Buck can't stand it—

"I love you so much," he says in a rush.

"Well, good," Tommy purses his lips around a smile, eyes bright and crinkled at the corners. He reaches up to his shoulder, like he's absent-mindedly checking to see if the kitten's still there. "Wouldn't want her to grow up in a broken home."

Buck huffs a laugh.

"And I love you too."

[the-witty-pen-name]

Meddling Mr. Munson

Eddie Munson x F!Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: Wayne is your favorite regular at work. Plus- his nephew is really cute.

Warnings: fluff, so much fluff and good feels you’ll get a toothache, allusions to pregnancy, alcohol mentioned, mentions of bullying

The first time you meet Wayne Munson, you’re eight hours into your six hour shift at the only diner in Hawkins that's open twenty-four hours. You’re working the overnight shift, and you were supposed to be relieved at 4:00am, but the waitress who was supposed to relieve you called from a payphone to tell you her bus broke down and she can’t get to work until the replacement arrives. So now, you’re brewing a fresh pot of coffee for the only patron you’ve had before the breakfast rush- which hopefully you’ll be missing.

You chit chat with Mr. Munson while he sits at the counter nursing his black coffee. He works overnight at the plant you’ve learned, and he asks you questions about your college classes. He doesn’t admit it, because he’s not the type, but he really enjoys the daily chats with you as stopping at the diner after work becomes one of his routines.

“You should come meet me for breakfast on your way to school,” Wayne suggests one night when he and Eddie are watching TV. His suggestion is met with Eddie blowing a raspberry and a grumble about not wanting to wake up that early. Wayne tosses his hat at Eddie, harmlessly making Eddie jump. “I ain’t asking,” Wayne reiterates and Eddie nods sheepishly, sinking into the couch.

Your eyes light up when you hear the bell on the front door. You already know it’s one of your favorite regulars before you even look up. “‘Morning, Mr. Munson,” you say cheerfully, “Take a seat, I just put on a fresh pot.” You look up and you’re surprised to see he isn’t alone. “Oh, hi Eddie,” you say with a grin, surprised to see Wayne isn’t alone. Eddie’s brain short circuits because he doesn’t know how you even know him, and you are very pretty.

You step out from behind the counter with two mugs in hand as they slide into a booth. “You don’t remember me,” you tease, filling both the mugs with coffee. Eddie fumbles over his words apologetically and Wayne smirks to himself. “That’s okay, we weren’t really friends,” you explain and tell him your name, “You sat in front of me last year in Ms.O’Donnell’s class. We didn’t really talk much.” He’s silently thanking you for omitting that you didn’t talk because he was hardly there. However, he’s practically soaring that despite that you somehow remembered him and aren’t recoiling in disgust.

“Eddie’s got her again this year,” Wayne interjects and Eddie wants to roll under the booth. He’s suddenly embarrassed that he’s repeating senior year again and he wished you didn’t know that. Wayne means nothing by it, literally just making conversation, and the news Eddie is in her class doesn’t seem to even phase you.

“She’s brutal,” you exhale, “If you want, I think I still have my notes somewhere. They’re all yours.”

“T-that’d be great,” he manages to get out. You smile at him and his limbs feel like clay.

“Yeah, of course,” you wave it off like it’s nothing. “I’ll come back in a few and grab your orders, take your time.”

Wayne is using his menu to hide his grin from Eddie. He didn’t know if Eddie and you would hit it off, he just had hopes. He’s not one to meddle, especially in his nephew’s love life, but when you had told Wayne you didn’t have a boyfriend, he immediately wanted to introduce you to Eddie. He knew Eddie would just reject the idea, so he didn’t say anything.

“She’s cute,” Wayne says after a minute when you disappear behind the door to the kitchen.

“God, cut it out,” Eddie exclaims, dramatically covering his face with his hands. His face is bright red. This seriously can not be happening right now. “Wayne, seriously, you are not seriously trying to set me up right now?”

“I’m just trying to treat my nephew to breakfast, I thought it would be nice. We haven’t done this in a while,” he says evenly, but Eddie knows the truth. “I think I’m gonna get the meat lover’s omelet,” he muses, acting oblivious to Eddie’s antics.

Eddie’s nervous bouncing of his leg is making the booth shake, and the coffee spills out over the rim of the mugs ever so slightly. Wayne slides over extra napkins, and chastises Eddie about leaving rings on the table.

“Are you all set?” You ask, getting your notepad out of the front pocket of your apron. Wayne nods and Eddie is staring blankly at the menu in front of him, paralyzed.

“The pancakes are really good if you’re still trying to decide,” you offer, thinking Eddie is actually reading the menu.

“U-uh yeah, that sounds good,” he replies. You nod and scribble it down on your pad.

“Your usual Wayne?” You ask and he nods.

“You’re the best,” he smiles, passing you the menus.

“It’ll be right out,” you reply, “Do you want me to top these off?” Wayne offers you his empty cup and Eddie manages to shake his head no. You disappear behind the doors again to ring in the order, and Wayne nudges Eddie to snap out of it.

“You’re being rude,” he says, “Look I get it, I’ll stay out of it. But you don’t have to freeze her out. She’s being lovely.”

Of course you’re being lovely, Eddie screams internally. You are lovely! He can’t bring himself to correct his uncle that he’s not ignoring you to spite him, but he’s actually tongue tied and completely fumbling. He can’t give Wayne the satisfaction of being right and he also doesn’t want to say anything out loud in utter fear you’d hear him.

“Food should be right out,” you say with a sweet smile. You walk over to the opposite side of the diner and wipe down a few of the empty booths. Eddie flexes his fingers over his thighs repeatedly to try to relax. Wayne watches Eddie, starting to notice he’s a lot more twitchy than he usually is. Eddie’s always animated but this is new. Maybe, Wayne muses, his little plan might actually be working.

Wayne really only ever wants Eddie to be happy. He’s had a front row seat to the abuse Eddie has received from his peers his whole life. Under the tattoos and the hair and the ripped jeans, Wayne still sees the little boy he tucked into bed and the little boy who sat on the kitchen counter while he helped clean his scraped knees. He wished the pain he had to help Eddie navigate was still that simple. Wayne thought maybe you’d see Eddie the way he did.

You’re nice, and genuinely so. Wayne thought if anyone could see Eddie, truly see him for the amazing kid he was, it would be you. Even if this whole stupid plan of his amounted to nothing more, you’re treating Eddie with such a normal level of human decency and you have no idea how much that means to the both of them. For Wayne, that’s more than he could ever ask for. He knows as much as he’s resisting, Eddie will leave here and go to school feeling a little bit better. For a brief moment in an empty diner, he can see the world isn’t always out to get him. Sometimes, the world is nice- with pretty girls to talk to and uncles who love you more than life itself.

When you bring out the food, Wayne watches the way your eyes linger on Eddie. You’re also being a little shy. He smiles to himself, keeping his head low while he starts to dig into his food. You ask Eddie about his band, and Wayne watches his nephew’s eyes light up, his usual confidence returning to the forefront as he tells you all about Corroded Coffin. You listen, and Wayne realizes you’re not just placating Eddie, you actually care.

“I’ll have to come to another show sometime,” you say, “I say you guys at The Hideout like a couple months ago actually.”

“Really?” Eddie’s eyes widen in disbelief. You giggle, and nod.

“Yup, you guys were awesome,” you assure him. “If you guys ever sell a tape, let me know. I want one.”

As they finish up their breakfast, you drop off the check, and Eddie thinks he might die when he sees you’ve scribbled your number on the receipt for him. The check has been comped and the note read:

“Wayne, Happy to treat my favorite customer! Eddie, in case you’d want to go out sometime? No pressure.” With your number underneath.

The most recent time you saw Wayne Munson, he pulled you into a hug and thanked you for inviting him over. It’s the first time you and Eddie are hosting a holiday in your new apartment.

He smiles as he looks around. You and Eddie have really done an amazing job making a cozy little life together. He smells the turkey finishing up in the oven and he can’t believe he can finally witness his nephew this happy. The two of you insist he sit in the living room while you both finish cooking for him. He’s enjoying watching the two of you work in the kitchen together, moving synchronously like you’ve done this dance a million times before- and you have.

He settles in and Eddie brings him a beer. Wayne looks around at Eddie’s and your new home and he can’t help but beam with pride. This is all he could’ve asked for Eddie- all he’s ever wanted to see him have. Eddie’s still as dopey grinned and smitten as he was the first day back at the diner. Wayne knows you’re the one- he knew before you or Eddie knew.

Eddie’s his son, even if he’ll never be called Dad. He doesn’t want that anyways. But, he knows your the best daughter-in-law he could have ever asked for. A best friend and a confidant from the first day he met you. He’s so glad to have you both together in his life. Little did he know, that tonight after dinner when he’s long past just full- but not too full for pie- Eddie would hold your hand and you’d both sit across from him, giving him the best news he could possibly hear in this lifetime.

His small trio, will shortly be adding a fourth band member.

[yoonia]

blooming wallflowers (m) | knj

⟶ Summary | Your life has been in shambles with only your two sweet girls keeping you strong enough to carry on. It has been a while since the flame of desire you once had within you dim into almost nothing, until the man who spends his life fighting against arson comes into your life (and your two little girls’) only to help light up that fire once again

⟶ Title | Blooming Wallflowers ⟶ Pairings | Kim Namjoon x older female reader  ⟶ Genre | Firefighter!Namjoon, Single mother!reader, Smut, Angst ⟶ Word count | 20,800 words ⟶ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; allusions of past/toxic relationships, healing, usage of alcohol and drinking, dealing with insecurities, age gap with older female reader (OC is in her mid-30s), trapped in confined spaces; contains explicit smut scenes, including: sexual tension, dirty talk, light restraint, soft dom!Namjoon, switching positions and roles (OC taking control at some point), clothed foreplay, grinding, dry humping, thigh riding, implied body worship, breasts play, fingering, clit play, pussy slapping, riding, grinding, semi-public sex (does dining room count?), pet names, groping, biting, edging, oral sex (female receiving), minor hand-job, panty ripping, clit biting, panty sniffing, praise kink, hair pulling, rough sex, protective sex, multiple orgasms, forced orgasm, overstimulation.  ⟶ Author’s Note | Written as a commission for @KimCheeHoo | I’m so sorry this took me forever to finish. Thank you so much for commissioning me and for your endless support. I hope you’ll enjoy this story. Have fun reading!  ⟶ Story Note 1 | Written in 2nd person POV (in case you’re new to my writing, I don’t use ‘y/n’ coding as all of my lead characters are considered as OCs). This story has POV switches, and this is roughly edited, so forgive me for any mistakes. Banner design made by me, age warning divider by @/cafekitsune | Posted in: September 25th, 2024 by @yoonia

⟶ Also written as part of the @bangtanwritershq “Got A Secret, Can You Keep It?” Third Quarter 2024 writing event! ⟡ AU type: Hold Me Tight - Dilf/Milf AU ⟡ Themes: Age Gap, Situationship ⟡ Inclusions: Edging, Fingering, Angst/Hurt, Restraints

⟶ Music companion | Blue Rain, Make You Mine ⟶ Main Masterlist | Mailbox | Taglist | Ko-fi | Commission  ⟶ Read on AO3

On some days, you would feel like you are finally getting your shit together. 

But today is not one of those days. 

“Mommy! Hana is trying to bite me!” You hear your oldest whine as she hugs the pancake batter box to her chest. Shaking your head, you can only guess that her sister has been trying to take that box away from her hands. 

“No, I did not!” Hana, your youngest daughter argues back, “Mommy, Suzy won’t let me use the scanning thingy.” 

Suzy narrows her eyes and scoffs. She has been doing this expression a lot lately. It took you weeks after you first saw her making such an expression to figure out that she had somehow gotten it from you. Hana’s new biting habit, however, is something that you have yet to figure out how and when it started. 

“You’re such a baby,” Suzy says, rolling her eyes, which only riles up her sister more.  

“I am not!” 

“Yes, you are. That’s why you can’t do this. Babies don’t do what grown-ups do.” 

Sullen, Hana props her hands on her hips and lifts her chin, as if it would make her look bigger against her sister while whining, “But you’re not a grown-up too!” 

Watching them go at each other, you cannot decide whether you want to laugh or cry. 

Hana’s attitude reminds you of someone. You, perhaps, no doubt as the only role model she currently has to copy some of that sassy attitude from. You probably should feel embarrassed—deep down, you do, you are somewhere in public, after all—as the girls continue fighting, their voices loud enough to draw some attention, with the addition of being super dramatic about it. 

Only for them to have a turn at helping you with the self-checkout counter. 

You know the reason why you cannot find it in you to be mad at them. Not when the girls are showing you that they are the perfect carbon copy of you—not that you are the kind to have a tantrum in the middle of the supermarket, at least not at this age—and when they are always full of surprises. And you cannot deny that they are so stinking cute. 

Suzy, the bigger one out of the two, is mostly quiet and sweet. As a six-year-old girl, only weeks away towards her seventh, she often makes people think that she is a bit older than she truly is with how calm she acts around others. Until recently, she has always been so shy. But that is only until the moment her little sister starts acting out and then she would react so strongly to her tantrum—just like what she is doing now. 

Hana, on the other hand, is more brave and confident, and a bit too smart for her own good. Always so curious and mischievous, and always loves to copy whatever her big sister is up to. And she is always so headstrong that nothing can stop her whenever she wants something. 

She just turned four, and you were sure that she could barely speak full sentences just a year ago. That period of time feels so long ago as you watch her arguing with her sister, with perfect sound of mind, clear words and reasonings, a sign that she is growing up a bit too soon. 

“Girls, please stop screaming at each other,” you try to calmly separate them. 

You have no idea what is happening. Normally, your girls would know perfectly well how to behave. They take great pride in being your ‘little helpers’ and it isn’t rare for you to bring them with you when you are out buying groceries. 

For some reason, they have been like this all day. Constantly arguing and making a fuss over everything. Even to the smallest things. 

“You can take turns using the scanner. Let Suzy finish scanning the pancake batter, then you can do yours, Hana. Here—” 

Reaching into the shopping cart, you grab the box of cookies that you don’t remember placing inside the cart and try to hand it over to Hana. Only for it to slip out of your hand when both Suzy and Hana try to reach for it. Both insisting on taking it and having their turn. 

“Motherfucker,” you mutter under your breath as the box slides on the floor, and both girls immediately launch into another series of arguments, blaming each other for dropping the box and getting you angry. 

Tears are pooling in the corner of your eyes, and the quick switch of your mood isn’t unnoticeable for your girls as they both grow still. As if they are expecting you to snap. You bite your lips, trying your best not to. 

Just as you take a deep breath to compose yourself, a shadow comes to your side, picking up the fallen box and handing it to you.

“Excuse me,” a deep voice speaks, snapping you out of it, only to pull you into a dreamy trance the moment you get a look at his face and see his smile. The dimple on his cheek distracts you from your distraught that your mind becomes numb for a moment. 

“Hi there, do you need any help?” 

“Uhm, not really. It’s fine,” you answer, barely getting a word out when it feels like your brain has short-circuited. You shake your head, noticing his extended hand, offering you the box that you dropped earlier. “Oh, thank you,” you say to him, smiling apologetically as you take the box from his hand. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure why my girls are acting like this. They’re not usually this dramatic.” 

“That’s okay. Kids will be kids, right?” His eyes flicker towards your girls. Suzy, still in shock, is standing right by the cart while clutching the box of pancake batter to her chest, while Hana is clinging to your leg, almost hiding. “I don’t think you remember me, but—” The kind stranger offers the same hand to you to shake as he introduces himself, “I’m Namjoon. I just moved in a couple of doors away.” 

Once the information sets in, everything clicks. “Oh, yes. That’s right. I do remember.” 

All of a sudden, your memory takes you to last weekend, when you joined a cookout event held by one of your neighbours. The gathering was initially meant to celebrate their 25th anniversary, and you recall how they extended the celebration to welcome the new neighbour arriving in your block. You were so tired that night and were so focused on watching your kids that everything seemed to flash by, but you do recall gossiping with one of your neighbours, Ella—the only other single mom of the group—about how hot and stunning the newcomer looked. 

Blinking away the memory, you offer him another smile. “I’m sorry, I think the stress got to me. But I do remember you, although I don’t think we had enough time to chat.” 

“It’s fine. I won’t blame you, given the circumstances,” he says, and that cute dimple appears again. He turns to your kids next, bending a bit lower to match their height. “Hi, there. Are you girls trying to help your mom with the checkout?” 

Suzy presses her lips together, too shy to speak, but Hana is always happy to offer an answer. “Suzy won’t let me help.” You look down to see her pouting her lips, yet her eyes are still wide, looking curious and intrigued by this friendly stranger. Once again, something that you might share with your girl. 

“Well, I haven’t checked out my things and I might need a little help. So why don’t we let your sister help your mom, and you help me with mine?” he offers Hana with a smile as he points at his shopping basket, which is barely half full. Any adult would notice that he wouldn’t be needing much help with them, but Hana immediately perks up at his generous offer. 

“Is that really okay with you?” you ask, worrying about troubling him when you barely know him at all and letting your daughter out of your sight. 

As if he knows what you are thinking, he points over his shoulder at the next counter, which is only recently vacant. “I’ll take the next counter, so you can see and hear us all the time.” 

A sigh of relief escapes you. For some reason, looking at him alone is enough to reassure you and make you trust him. Maybe it’s the dimple. “Right. Okay,” you say to him, nodding. “Go ahead, honey. Help the nice mister with his groceries. But promise me that you’ll be good.” 

“‘Kay!” Hana easily agrees, getting overly excited that she has been given something else to do. “I promise, Mommy.” 

Find the beauty in the chaos. 

You remember reading that sentence somewhere. Perhaps from one of your favourite romance novels or one of those self-help books that your mother bought you during your darkest time. 

Each time you are having a hard time, be it from work, from dealing with household chores, or from caring for your daughters, you will always remember those words to keep your composure. Just like how you kept repeating those same words moments ago while you were stressing over your kids, when you tried to remain calm and sane. 

You didn’t expect the beauty to come and find you in your chaos instead. 

Having someone helping you just when you are starting to lose your calm feels like a blessing from the universe. 

Once peace has been regained, everything seems to return back to normal. Almost as if your daughters’ tantrum and fight never happened. 

While you work together with Suzy, who is enjoying her role as your little assistant, her smile widening each time the items go through, you can hear the sound of soft giggling from nearby as Hana does the same with her new friend. 

And Namjoon, the kind stranger and your saviour of the day, is making it fun by playing a little game with your little girl using the scanner and his groceries, drawing smiles and laughter from Hana, her little drama earlier forgotten. Soon enough, they are done, yet Hana remains by Namjoon’s side, almost clinging to his strong arm as she chatters away while he listens closely, hanging to every word she says. 

It appears that your little girl has completely become infatuated with the man. You cannot blame her though, since the man is quite easy in the eye. You have even noticed some of the women passing by looking over, and it surprises you how quickly it is making you feel territorial about him. 

“Thank you so much for your help. I truly appreciate it.” 

And you mean every word, seeing that not only has he helped solve your little problem with your demanding daughters, he also stays long enough to walk you to your car. If that isn’t enough to make you feel as if you have been transferred into another dimension, he has somehow gotten your daughter lifted in one arm, while he carries his grocery bag in the other. 

“It’s nothing, really. I enjoyed talking to your sweet girl,” he says, once again showing his dimple, and you can swear that you are swooning just by the look of it. Perhaps it’s his voice that does it to you; the deep timbre that makes you feel warm inside. It might also be the way he glances at Hana, not even showing any sign that he is getting annoyed for having his evening thwarted by having to deal with little girls and their very disorganised mother. 

“I mean it. You could’ve just walked past and didn’t offer anything, but you still did. You’re even walking us out to the car.” You sigh, recalling the bitter memory of the drama earlier. Glancing at him, you realise that Hana has become extremely silent. “Please tell me Hana isn’t falling asleep on your shoulder.” 

Namjoon lets out a soft chuckle as he takes a peek at Hana’s face, her cheeks smushed against his broad shoulder as if she has found the perfect place to rest her head on. “I think she’s about to.” 

Biting your lips, you hold back the sound that almost comes involuntarily out of you, because you can almost hear your ovaries exploding. 

Namjoon helps put Hana into her kiddie seat in the backseat of the car while you strap Suzy in right beside her. “You seem like you’ve done this before,” you let it slip, and you quickly move your hand to cover your mouth. “I’m so sorry. You’ve been so nice and here I am, sounding too presumptuous.” 

“It’s okay. Most of my friends have kids, and I’ve helped them once or twice whenever I’m free. I also have a niece from my sister, which gave me a chance to practice.” 

You take a peek at his grocery bag and remember what you saw in it—a box of beer, a couple of boxes of microwave dinners, and some snacks—and feel the urge to cook him dinner. Just to pay him a favour. 

Yes, that’s what it is. Not that you are eager to have him over for dinner or invite him into your home for anything other than. 

The offer is there, hanging at the tip of your tongue. But then you bite your lips, your insecurities and doubts rearing their ugly head, making you feel so small that you take a step back and simply say, “Thank you again. I’m so sorry for all the trouble.” 

Namjoon shrugs it off. “It was a pleasure to help.” 

Nodding, you look around, trying to find a distraction. You quickly notice that most of the cars parked near yours have gone away. “Are you—where did you park your car?”

The dimple on his cheek appears again when he shows you a bashful smile. “I don’t drive a car, actually,” he says, grinning and rubbing the back of his head. “I rode a bike here.” 

“A—bike?” You resist the urge to look around, just to be sure. Riding a bike at this time at night? You have no idea whether to feel amazed or baffled. Perhaps both. 

Seeing your reaction makes him laugh, and you somehow decide that you like the sound of it. “Yeah, I always ride a bike to the gym, and I was just heading home from there when I decided to make a quick stop to grab some sustenance for the evening.” 

Hiking the grocery bag in his arm higher, Namjoon takes a step back. That is when you notice the bag hanging from his shoulder. The one that wasn’t weighed down by Hana’s little head. 

Okay, you have officially decided to be amazed. Is this guy for real? 

“Well, I guess I’ll see you around?” He asks, snapping you back to the present before your mind starts picturing him carrying something else on those shoulders. 

No, none of it involves you. 

Maybe. 

You shake your head and muster a smile. “Oh, you betcha. You’ll definitely see us more often. Especially now that Hana has decided to like you.” 

You linger at the driver’s side of your car, hands on the door, yet your body refuses to slide in. You have no idea what seems to be drawing you towards him. Whatever it is, it makes you not want to leave. 

Namjoon tilts his head, as if noticing your hesitation to leave first. “Go on, I’ll watch you until you’re out there safely.” 

You open your mouth, almost ready to tell him to get back on his way before realising that the parking lot is quiet. Too quiet. And you have to admit that ever since you were left with only your two girls, you have been feeling a bit more vulnerable. Choosing to accept his offer of staying until you are safe to go—and feeling warm in the chest for having someone care enough to do so—you nod your head and slip into your car. 

Once you are strapped in, you look out the window to wave him goodbye. 

“Drive safe,” he says, and then the dimple reappears when he smiles, almost causing you to stutter. 

“Yes, um. You too.” 

Hana’s eyes flutter open just as Namjoon takes a peek into the backseat window to say goodbye to the girls. 

“Bye, Mista Joonie!” she cheerfully shouts, as if she wasn’t falling asleep in his arm just moments ago.

“Goodbye, Mister,” Suzy chimes in with a shy smile, waving her hand at Namjoon which he returns with a small wave.

“I’ll see you girls around!” 

Giving him one last wave and a smile, you begin to drive away. You can still see him through the rearview mirror, standing by and watching you go, until you are almost out of the lot and you see his figure running in the distance to get back to his bike. It’s brief, but there is something about this chance encounter that makes you feel bitter about leaving. 

Even if, deep down, you know that you will see him again soon. 

Perhaps I should’ve offered and invited him for dinner, after all. 

There is truly no beauty in this chaos. 

Even if there is, it would be impossible for you to see it. Not in moments like this.

It seems like the entire universe is out to get you this week, as nothing seems to be aligning the way it should have. The whole office has been in complete havoc all morning. Typical for Blackwell Press, the publishing company you are working with, to have the final week of the month filled with all the hustle. With everyone getting caught in deadlines, meetings and conference calls held back to back, and your own work piling up, it almost seems impossible for things to get even worse. 

But, of course, it eventually did. 

Offices don’t randomly get caught on fire during the daytime, when there are people—many of them—inside. Elevators don’t randomly get stuck merely seconds after the fire alarm starts blaring across the building.

Okay, this elevator had gotten stuck before, during that one time some staff were working late at night and the machine suddenly failed to work. Everyone has been joking about it happening again during a busy day, and it feels like karma that it has to happen again now. 

But must it happen when you are inside it?

The steady hum of the elevator suddenly turned into a deafening silence just moments ago, and the only thing you can do now is to stand frozen in the flickering light, wondering what is going on. Trapped between floors, the confined space appears in your mind as if closing in on you, the walls shrinking with every breath. The only reprieve you are given is the fact that you are not in it on your own. 

Your heart is pounding in your chest, louder than the faint crackle of the intercom as Daniel, the Marketing guy, tries to contact the security staff downstairs through the intercom. His voice remains calm despite the constant crackling sound each time they try to respond, while the other Marketing staff present with you, Jae, has long discarded his suit in his effort to calm himself. 

You take shallow breaths to keep yourself from panicking, all while trying to listen to the soft hum of their voices as they talk about what to do, just to keep your mind from wandering towards dark places. Right beside you, Lily, the only member of the Editor team aside yourself, is slowly losing her calm. 

At the sudden halt of the elevator, she had reached out to grab the sleeve of your blouse as if searching for support. As seconds tick by, her grip on your sleeve tightens as she tries to control her breath, her eyes locked on the digital screen that is no longer displaying a floor number. And you let her cling to you, even when you feel like you need some added strength for yourself. 

It was by mere coincidence that the four of you are stuck here together. 

You were the last ones to leave the conference room after the latest meeting, having been the ones responsible for providing the items for the meeting. As fate has it, merely seconds after the doors were closed and the elevator had only started moving, the fire alarm started blaring through the building, and everything came to a halt. 

“They’re saying that help is on its way,” says Daniel, relaying the message that he just received from the intercom, his voice becomes the calm in this dire situation. 

You find yourself feeling grateful that at least one of you manages to hear the voice coming through the intercom, while you haven’t been able to focus on anything at all. Nothing but the sound of your breathing, the rapid sound of your heartbeat, and at the way the air seems to be growing stale with four people sharing the same oxygen in this tight space. 

“What did they say? Is it connected to the fire alarm?” you try to ask, hoping that getting some positive news might help clear your thoughts. Even if just a little. 

“No, they didn’t say anything,” Daniel says with a strained voice, possibly due to reality finally sinking in once the intercom stops making any sound to respond. 

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Jae leans back against the metal railing and sighs. “Let’s just hope that we’re not anywhere close to the fire, and it’s just some issues with the electricity,” he adds while trying his best to remain calm. But it doesn’t help make you feel any calmer when his eyes begin wandering at every visible gap and crevice as he speaks, as if making sure that he isn’t seeing any smoke filtering into the elevator. 

It makes you feel uneasy to see this. Every bit of calmness that you still have begins chipping away. 

Soon, silence falls as everyone tries their best to remain still and composed while waiting for help to come. The minutes drag on like hours, allowing your thoughts to wander into a darker place and letting your doubt and fear sink in. 

Is the building really burning? 

Why are we stuck here? How long are we supposed to wait?

What happens if help doesn’t come? 

What about my girls? What will happen to them if I—

You blink away the tears forming in your eyes at the thought of not returning home to your girls. The thought of leaving them behind hurts you beyond words that you are beginning to lose hope. 

Gripping the metal railing behind you tightly, you close your eyes and begin to pray. And you continue to pray as time slips away in the dim, stalled box. Please, you beg whoever is listening. Please, someone—

A loud clatter breaks the silence, causing everyone to jerk their heads up, all eyes looking around to find its source. Right as Jae is about to speak, the clattering stops and comes a muffled voice from somewhere above.

"Hello? Can you hear me?" The voice is clear now, firm but calming, and somewhat familiar. But your mind is a jumbled mess of worry and bewilderment that you cannot figure out the reason why you would think that way. 

"Yes!" Jae calls back after looking around, seeing how everyone is stunned to silence, “Yes, we can hear you!”

"Stay calm," the voice calmly instructs from above. “We’re from the firefighters. We're going to get you out."

You feel your knees weakening with relief. Even the others collectively exhale deep sighs of relief and Lily begins to loosen her hold on the sleeve of your blouse. “Okay,” she whispers, steadying herself. “We’re going to be okay.” 

Daniel nods when he sees that everyone is calmer. “Okay, we’re ready!” he shouts to the person on the other side as he braces against the cool metal wall. 

Soon, you hear a low, scraping sound against the elevator door, followed by the clank of tools echoing through the small chamber. The elevator shirts slightly upon impact, causing everyone to gasp and instinctively start stepping away from the door. Before panic starts to set back in, the firefighter’s voice cuts through again, calming everyone down.  

"We're going to manually open the doors. You might feel the elevator shift a little—don't worry. You're safe."

Safe. 

The word echoes through your mind, acting like a spell as it brings some reassurance. Something for you to cling to. The clanking sounds of the tool returns just as you start hearing the firefighter coordinating with his team outside. 

More creaks and groans follow next, lasting for a short while, and then—light appears. The doors start inching open, revealing the gap between the elevator floor and the hallway above. Two strong hands appear from the gap, pulling the doors wider until there is enough space for you to see your rescuers in their fire gear, all focused and ready to pull everyone out.

One firefighter peeks through the opened doors with a smile. “Alright, who’s up first?” 

Both men who are with you step aside, allowing either you or Lily to get out first. So you push Lily forward, letting her get helped first before you take your turn. 

"Alright, just one step up," the firefighter says, reaching down with an outstretched hand. "Take my hand, we’ve got you."

You hesitate only for a moment before grasping his hand, his hold feels solid and reassuring. You can feel the strength in his grip as he hoists you up and out of the elevator, the cool rush of fresh air hitting you like a wave of relief. Your legs tremble as they touch solid ground that you nearly fall, yet the kind firefighter holds you up by your arms, keeping you steady as he sets you aside so that the other members of his team can start helping the men out.

"You're okay now," the firefighter says, his voice softer now. "Just breathe. You’re safe."

Nodding, you close your eyes, allowing yourself to feel the weight of your fear melting away. Still unable to speak, you glance back at the elevator, seeing it still wedged between floors, and feel a shiver run through you as you remember that you had just been inside it moments ago. But as you look around, watching the firefighters handling the situation, helping the other three who had just gotten pulled out to get help, the terror that was gripping at you begins to loosen its hold. 

With a relieved sigh, you straighten up and turn back to your saviour, the firefighter who had just pulled you out and is still holding you up. The moment you see his face, you finally understand why his voice felt so familiar, and why you could easily find calmness when you first heard him speak. 

“Namjoon,” you whisper his name, drawing a smile to his face, showing you the small dimple which had been in your mind ever since the night you last met. 

“I told you we’d meet again soon.”  

“Is this really necessary?” 

You are sitting at the corner of the building’s main lobby, together with the other three who had gotten stuck with you in the elevator. Other staff have also been evacuated here while the firefighters are working to find the source of the problem. 

Namely, the reason why the fire alarm went off when there was no sign of the building burning anywhere. 

Right by your side, Jae is being checked by the medical team when it is quite obvious that all the man wants to do is to get back to his office. 

“You were under duress just moments ago, Sir. We need to check your vitals to make sure that there are no other issues with your body that the incident may have caused before letting you go.” 

“Let the boy do his job so we can all go back to the office,” Daniel chimes in just as he is done being checked out and the medic moves to Lily next. The poor girl has yet to regain some colour on her pale face, which makes you worried. “Wait, we’re allowed to go back to our office, right?” 

The medical staff nods and talks about waiting until everyone gets clearance from the investigation team before going back up. After getting your turn for the quick check-up, you wander off a bit between the staff lingering around, feeling too restless to sit still. 

Before you realise what you are doing, you begin searching for a familiar figure between the throng of people, and you don’t stop until you see a group of firefighters returning to the lobby after checking the floors above. One of them, who appears to be the team leader, walks towards the head of security and the Head Editor waiting close by. 

“It came from smoke forming in the break room. Someone must’ve burned something in the microwave or forgot to pull it out and the smoke triggered the alarm,” you hear the team leader speak, explaining the cause of the fire alarm. “The faulty alarm system made the electrical circuit go haywire, which made it seem like it was a bigger fire than it was, and it may have caused the elevator cables to short-circuit.” The team leader hands the draft of their investigation report to the head of security. “The elevator needs to get checked too, since the cables are old. You need to get it done soon.” 

The Head Editor—your boss—takes a peek at the report and shakes his head. “I’m gonna need to contact building management—” 

His voice begins to fade away when a movement catches your eyes, and you see the person that you have been searching for separating himself from the group to approach you.

Namjoon, who turns out to be your saviour, walks up to you with a smile on his face. “Are you okay?” he asks, the familiar deep timber of his voice brings some warmth to your chest, telling you that this isn’t a figment of your imagination.

“Yeah,” you answer with a small voice, still too dumbfounded to see him standing before you like this. “Uhm, yes, I’m fine. Thank you so much for saving my life.” The moment you say this, a soft giggle slips right out of you. “This makes it the second time this week you’ve come to my rescue.” 

Namjoon’s smile widens. “I’m just glad to help.” 

He takes a look around. “So, a publishing agency, hmm? What is it exactly that you do here, if I may ask?” His curious gaze lands on you and it feels like he is trying to look into your soul. “I hope it’s okay if I’m curious, since you now know what I do for a living.” 

You let out a nervous laugh. “I don’t mind at all,” you admit to him before answering, “I’m an editor. I edit manuscripts for upcoming books before they are sent out to print and get officially published. You can say that I’m being paid to read and comment, and gain the extra privilege of reading the books first before everyone else does.” 

“That sounds interesting,” he says, raising his brows. “I don’t suppose you’ll be getting back to work after this?” 

“I’m not entirely sure. But I don’t think I will.” You glance around at your co-workers. Neither seems to have any desire of going back to work after this whole incident. Sharing the same feeling with the others around you, you feel a strong desire of seeing your girls and spending time with them instead. “I might get back to my office only to pack up my stuff and leave early, pick up Hana from daycare and have a little cool down at the park before we go and pick up her sister. I know she’ll love it.” 

At the mention of your girls, Namjoon’s smile softens. “That sounds fun.” 

For a moment, it looks as if he wants to say something, only to stop himself when someone from his team calls his name. Namjoon looks over his shoulder and nods. “Unfortunately, one of us has to go back to work,” he says with an apologetic smile, “I’ll see you around. Hopefully, not in another case of emergency?” 

You cannot help but smile. “I promise to try and keep things less dramatic next time.” 

With a grin on his face, Namjoon turns away and joins the other men from his team as they prepare to leave. You watch him for a moment longer, blending in with the rest of them until someone comes to your side. 

“So—” Your friend, Emma, says as she slips her arm around yours. “Who’s the hunk?” 

You roll your eyes and smile. “He’s a new neighbour. He helped me the last time we met,” you answer, still stunned with everything that has been going on. You never expected that you would be seeing Namjoon again, and for him to once again save the day for you, “Which makes this the second time he’s helped me.”

“Oooh, sounds like a story premise in the making. It’ll make a good romance prompt, don’t you think?” she teases, “A firefighter who keeps crossing paths with a single mother, saving her during a series of misfortunes and ending up falling in love after the single mom starts paying his goodwill with homecooked meals and other”—she starts wiggling her eyebrows—”raunchy favours.” 

You laugh at her comment, even if it doesn’t stop you feeling your cheeks flushing warmly. “Well, I’m not the writer. You can probably pitch that idea to the indie author you’ve been working with.” 

“Who? Sana? Hmmm, you’re right. This is kind of her thing. Let me take notes on that,” Emma says as she pulls out her phone and starts tapping on the screen, no doubt writing the idea down on her notes app. “I might advice her to make it extra spicy too.” 

As you continue to chat with your friend about books and promising writers, you let her guide you back towards the Editor team who are gathering at one corner of the room with your boss, talking about the incidents and what they are going to do next. 

“Are you heading back up?” Emma asks you before you join the others, and you recall your plan about spending the rest of the afternoon with your youngest. 

“I’m thinking of grabbing my stuff and head back home if Adam lets us go for the day,” you say to her, referring to your boss, the Head Editor who isn’t showing any sign of wanting to back to work. Much like everyone else. “I’ll probably end up losing sleep again if I want to finish editing tonight.” 

You let out a sigh, thinking about the lack of sleep you have been having this week. With new books coming up to prints this month, and new writers struggling to keep up with the schedule that you have set up for them, you have been staying up a lot of nights to catch up with editing. 

“But it’s still a lot better to work from home than being stuck here and freaking out about the elevator and false fire alarms all day,” you add, almost like reassuring yourself that it would be okay to sacrifice more sleep for the sake of your sanity.  

“Good point. I bet we can sweet talk Adam to let us go early today. I don’t see the point in working when everyone is stressed out anyway,” Emma jokes as she points her chin at Adam, whose eyebrows are furrowed deeply as he continues chatting with his assistants. “At least, thanks to this, I think we deserve to let off some steam. What do you say we go out this Saturday? Grab some drinks, dance a bit, maybe you can practice your flirting skills so you can make use of them the next time you meet up with that cutie again.”  

You make a face as you imagine yourself trying to make a move on Namjoon, which only makes her laugh. “I’m serious. He seems nice, aside from being hot, and it’ll be a missed opportunity not to tap that.” 

You roll your eyes, but a part of you is starting to consider it. As much as you love being a mother and to dedicate your entire life to your career, you cannot deny that you do want to start dating again. 

And the offer to have a night out where you can let off some steam and let loose does sound enticing. Emma and some of your other friends have been asking you to join them to hangout on drink nights lately. But with a lot of deadlines and tight schedules weighing down on you, and no one to watch your girls while you are out, you have been declining their invitation. But after dealing with such a hard week, you feel like you deserve a night to yourself. 

“I do need a stiff drink.” Sighing, you remember that your daughters are going to be spending the weekends with your parents. It wouldn’t hurt to use that free time to have some fun for a change instead of staying in. “All right. Count me in.” 

Emma cheers. “Great! I’ll call the other girls to see if they’ll come too it so we can all catch up. Chloe called the other day and shared about wanting to see us and give us the souvenirs she got from her trip to Singapore last week, so she’ll probably be excited too,” she says, mentioning another fellow Editor who used to work in the same company as the two of you before moving up to a bigger publishing agency. 

Just then, you see a small group of firefighters walking across the lobby, heading towards the front door to leave. Among them is Namjoon, who seems to feel your gaze on him. As you continue watching him walk alongside his team, he suddenly turns. His eyes quickly find you among the crowd lingering in the lobby, his smile growing wider as he raises his hand to wave goodbye. 

Emma makes a humming sound when she sees this exchange happening and whispers, “Promise me you’ll tell me more about that hot firefighter of yours.” 

Keeping your eyes on Namjoon, you merely smile and wave your hand back at him. “Mhmm. We’ll see.” 

It’s a typical Saturday night at Cipher, the rustic-style bar that Namjoon has frequented ever since he moved into the city. 

The bar had a different name just a couple of years ago, when Namjoon first came by during one of his previous visits to this city, and with different types of patrons as well. The only thing that remains the same since is the man who is working behind the bar, mixing drinks while chatting with whoever decides to hang around the bartender. 

“How is living in the city going for you so far?” Jin, the bartender and owner of the bar, asks Namjoon while he is busy wiping clean glasses between drink orders. 

Twisting the glass in his hand, Namjoon shrugs before taking a sip of his whiskey. “Not too bad. I can’t say that I’ve gotten to fit right in with the neighbours. But things are doing good at work, so that’s good enough for now.” 

“Seeing anyone already?” Jin teases, making Namjoon laugh. 

“Are you seriously asking me that?” He shakes his head. “It might be too soon for me to get back out there into the dating scene.” 

“You? Not sure about getting out to meet up with women?” Jin laughs. “Look, I’m not talking about getting into a relationship or finding someone else to propose. I’m talking about having fun. Go pick someone you find attractive tonight and take her home with you. You deserve a good time too, you know.” 

Namjoon’s throat feels tight just by hearing that word—propose—only because it brings back a painful memory; of the days filled with fights and shouting matches and distrust, and the desperation he felt to hold on to the hope that things would have gotten better if he chose to settle down. 

Shaking the sudden wave of painful memory doesn’t really help when he thinks about opening himself to finding instant pleasure to replace what was lost to him.  

Namjoon may not be a stranger to having a one-night stand. But it has been a while since the last time he had one. Those days are way behind him. Long before he decided to settle down, only to have everything fall apart and he was forced to start over in a new place just to survive. 

He knows all too well that sharing his bed with someone for one night only does little to fill the void. He knows from what he experienced during his wild days in the past. Physically, he might not have been alone for those short hours, but once it ended, it only made him feel even more lonely than before. At some point, the loneliness started to feel painful. It was what had first led him to start longing for something more. 

He once thought that he had found more. Only that it had been with the wrong person, at the wrong time, and he found himself back to square one when everything crumbled. 

He took it all thinking that it might have been karma. Bad fate came to bite him on the ass after all the years he had his fun chasing women, breaking hearts here and there, until he got his own heart broken to pieces just months ago. 

It was the reality check he needed. One that he has yet to completely recover from. The pain and the memories of the past would sometimes come creeping in, staying with him as if they had been woven into the cracks that were left inside him to remain even after he walked away. It kept chasing him during the nights he spent alone—and he had tried to go back to the game once or twice, only to fail to gain anything out of it—which was why he decided to move away. 

Start anew. Meet new people. And then one day, maybe—

He knows that time will eventually help him heal, just like how time has healed many of the scars he had gained through the years of working with danger, chasing fires and pulling people out of crumbling buildings and crashed cars and stuck elevators—a flutter of a smile comes to his face as he recalls the most recent incident—while risking his own body, his life, doing so. 

“I can’t believe I’m getting an advice about hooking up from someone like you,” Namjoon chuckles, as he brushes those thoughts away, choosing to tease Jin instead. “Someone who claims to be looking into settling down.” 

Jin scoffs. “I’m saying this for your own good.” Propping his elbows on top of the bar counter, Jin leans forward. “You moved here to start over. Not to stop living altogether.” 

Namjoon gives him a bitter smile. “Right now, I’m only going to spend the night nursing my drink, enjoying my downtime while I’m off duty.” 

Shaking his head, Jin leans back and grabs the empty glasses left behind from the patrons who had just stepped away from the seats next to Namjoon. “Have you thought about my offer?” Jin asks, “About working here on the nights you’re not on night shift? At least, that way, you might open up your eyes and see all the opportunities you can get by standing right here at the bar, talking to people.” 

“And live a double life like you do?” Namjoon teases him, which earns him a wink from Jin, before the bartender saunters away as another customer waves him down to order a drink. 

Once again left with his own thoughts, Namjoon allows himself to sink back into old memories; all the good and the bad; the long-lost hope that he once had and is now trying to rebuild. 

“Wanna have another?” Jin asks when he returns, noticing that Namjoon has almost emptied his glass yet again. “Got enough time to think about what I was saying?” 

“Maybe,” Namjoon says as he tosses his drink down. He slides the empty glass back to Jin. “Get me a double of that.” 

As Jin steps back to grab his drinks, Namjoon notices the group of patrons crowding nearby spreading away, giving him a clear sight of the bar’s entrance door just as a group of women enters, laughing and chatting with each other without realising the attention they are gaining. All of a sudden, Namjoon feels as if the air around him shifts, right the moment his eyes capture the sight of a familiar smile among the ladies who seem to have come for a good time. 

“Can I ask you something?” Namjoon asks Jin when the bartender returns with his drink. 

“Sure. Anything.” 

“Do you believe in fate?” 

Jin laughs. “Me? I can’t really say I don’t believe it, but it’s also not something I’d talk about while tending the bar. Why?” 

Namjoon turns back to look at the group of newcomers, his smile growing wider when his eyes meet yours as you look up, as if you can feel his presence as he sits across the room, watching you with a new feeling of hope brewing inside his chest. Life can be cruel sometimes, he silently admits. Yet it seems that life is slowly turning to his favour when you unexpectedly appear right before his eyes, right when he is about to call it a night and return to his lonely home. 

“Well, I think I am starting to believe it.” 

“I feel like we should make a toast,” Emma starts once you manage to find an open table. She holds up her glass of Cosmo before anyone can start enjoying their drinks. 

“What are we toasting for?” Ina asks, just as Emma shouts, 

“To friendship.” 

Chloe snorts into her drink and shakes her head. “What are we, in high school?” 

“Hey, I mean, it works,” Emma whines, “Seeing that we still hang out together even after you and Ina moved to different companies.” 

Thinking to yourself, you think about the long week that you just had and offer, “How about a toast to surviving life?” 

“I’ll toast to that,” Ina quickly agrees with a nod, and you can totally understand why. Being the oldest one of the group, she has a ton of things on her plate among her busy days at work; from dealing with her teenage boys back home who are beginning to act up; a husband who is busy preparing for his promotion; and a sick cat back home. 

“I love my boys, but sometimes I wish they were still the same adorable toddlers who would listen to me instead of fighting me all the time,” she would often say, though you could always see the love in her eyes even as she complains about them. “Are you sure you don’t want to trade them with your girls? Just a night will be enough for me. I promise.” 

Chloe raises her glass to join the toast, saying, “I’ll toast to that too. These past few weeks have been pretty crazy for me. I want to stay in bed with my hubby for the next few weeks and not answer any texts or phone calls.” 

Her comment makes you want to take a shot of your drink. You shouldn’t feel envious about her having someone waiting for her back home. You shouldn’t wish that you had someone to share your bed with tonight. You really don’t need to think about having to return home tonight alone, to a quiet home, without your girls waiting back home, without anyone keeping you company.  

The only thing you fear the most about being left alone with your thoughts is to have the ghosts of your past coming back. Memories always come stronger at nights. Taking you back to the days when you were not alone, yet you are made struggling even harder than you are now when you tried to hold on to the crumbling marriage. 

Nobody warned you that falling out of love can be painful. How lonely it made you feel.  It scorned you to the point that you nearly sworn yourself off of love, just to keep your heart save. Whatever was left of it. 

“Then why are you here hanging with us when you have a husband to cuddle with?” Emma teases, her voice snapping you out of it. Then Chloe leans in to hug you from the side. 

“Because I also miss you guys,” she says, drawing everyone’s laughter. 

You share a toast with the girls, clinking the glasses as you cheer, followed by a series of shots, and then a new round of drinks is shared at the table. You continue talking, laughing, catching up about life and sharing gossip and fussing over some problematic authors that both Emma and Chloe had to deal with for the past month. By the time the next round of shots arrives at the table, you notice Emma’s eyes looking over your shoulder and grinning at what she sees.

“Aren’t you going to say hi?” she teases, leaning in to make it less obvious that she has been observing the one person that you have been fighting not to look at. 

You take a careful sip of your Moscow Mule as you think of an excuse. “We already waved at each other when we first came in.” 

Truth be told, you already know that a simple wave was the bare minimum that you could have given him. Seeing Namjoon sitting there at the bar when you first came into this place caught you by surprise that you were left speechless. It was Namjoon who had first smiled at you, and the only thing you could do was wave your hand at him when your legs refused to take you to him.  

“You know that’s not enough.” Emma rolls her eyes. “The guy practically saved your life.” 

Your reaction—or lack thereof—over seeing Namjoon hadn’t gone unnoticed by your friends. But it was Emma who had explained to the others about who Namjoon was, earning you more questions and teasing from the girls which only made it even harder for you to ignore his presence. 

“I’m sure he’ll appreciate it if you offer something special tonight for a thank-you gift,” Chloe teases while wiggling her brows. 

You laugh, snorting into your drink. “Sure he will,” you say, as you find it hard to imagine that someone like Namjoon would even be interested in being with someone like you. Not only because you know that he is younger than you, but you also know that there are many women out there—mostly those around his age—that he would find more attractive, compared to a single mom like yourself. 

As always, your insecurities are quick to set in. Before you can drown it with a strong drink, Emma quickly protests, “You’re a MILF, ______. Stop selling yourself short.”

Nodding, Ina gently agrees with her by saying, “You definitely shouldn’t, seeing that he keeps glancing at you.” 

“She means to say that he’s been eye-fucking you since we got here,” Chloe adds, snickering as she glances over her shoulder to catch Namjoon looking over. 

“He so is!” Ina says, leaning across the table. “He’s hot. Go for it.”

Hearing this, you finally take a long sip of your drink, trying to gain some liquid courage. You have only gotten a few glasses of drink, the night has yet grown late, but you have already gotten quite a good buzz going on, and you are using it to grow some courage to look over at him. Sure enough, Namjoon is still there, with a glass of what seems to be whiskey in his hand, and a pair of eyes that are looking straight at you. A smile grows on his face as your gazes meet each other, though it is quickly hidden as he lifts his glass to his lips. 

“See? He’s looking over again.” Emma starts giggling and gently nudges at your shoulder. “Go talk to him and practice that flirting skills of yours.”

“What flirting skills?” you ask while laughing. Deep down, your insecurities are still clawing at you, but having everyone pushing you to do something that you normally wouldn’t do—like flirting with a hot younger guy like Namjoon—is starting to make you want to change your mind. “Okay, but what do I say?” 

“You can start by saying hi,” Ina says. She pushes her appletini in front of you. “Here,” she says. “Finish this, then go talk to him before someone else moves in on that fine piece of ass.”

Chloe nods her head as you pick up the glass of appletini and contemplate what you need to do next. “You can go to the bar and act like you’re there to order drinks from the bartender since we’ll be needing some more drinks.” 

 “Go on,” Emma joins in, obviously enjoying this. 

You exhale a deep breath and bring the glass to your lips. The sweet liquor glides down your throat and you suddenly start wishing that you had gotten something stronger. Lowering the drink, you turn to look for him again. Namjoon isn’t looking at you this time, yet he is still there, talking to the pretty-looking bartender who was the main reason why Emma had chosen to come to this bar—as she seems to be having a sweet crush on the bartender. 

“All right, here I go,” you say, as you finish the drink and muster the will to rise from your seat. Your legs are a bit wobbly when you try to walk across the room, but the muted voices of your friends who are cheering for you from behind give you the boost you need to continue going. 

The floor between your table and the bar has been filled with people dancing while you are drinking, and they come in your way, making you lose sight of Namjoon for a moment. Not being able to see him only makes you feel calmer, until the crowd opens up and you see him once again, still sitting at the bar. Alone. 

Eyes too focused on him, you accidentally bump into someone who walks right into your path. “Oh, I’m sorry,” you immediately apologise while the person simply slides out of your way and returns to his dancing. 

You hear a soft chuckle, a familiar sound that causes your breath to catch. You whip around and your eyes are locked with his. Immediately, something fuzzy builds in your chest, and you almost fall out of step when you notice it. 

Are those butterflies you are feeling inside? You haven’t felt anything remotely like butterflies in—fuck—years. 

As his smile grows wider at the sight of you walking towards him, you try to convince yourself that his presence isn’t affecting you. At all. 

Your lady bits do not quiver for random men. You are certainly not having dirty thoughts about him. You keep telling yourself this as you get closer to him. And yet—

Your heart immediately speeds up at the sound of his voice—calling your name. 

“_______, fancy seeing you here,” he says, looking genuinely pleased that those butterfly wings are beginning to flutter again, causing some funny feelings to rise in your stomach. 

“I could say the same thing. It was a nice surprise to see you,” you respond to him and—fuck, did you really just try flirting with him? “Enjoying your night?” 

“You can say that,” he says with a dimple smile of his, “But I’m finding more reasons to feel good tonight now that you’re here.” 

Damn, he’s good, you wonder as you stifle a smile, and fail. Maybe he should be the one helping you sharpen your flirting skills instead of Emma or the other girls who always start making jokes about it and making you laugh each time you try it on them. 

“A friend of yours?” You turn when the bartender comes, throwing you a smile as he speaks to Namjoon. 

“Jin, this is _______,” Namjoon says, introducing the two of you. “This is Jin, an old friend who first convinced me to move here. He’s the main reason why I hang out at a place like this.” 

You offer your hand to the bartender who takes it with a firm grip. “Hi, it’s nice to see you. I see that you and your friends are having quite a blast.” 

Returning Jin’s smile, you playfully ask him, “Would it be too much if I thank you for encouraging Namjoon to move here?” 

“Nope, not at all,” Jin laughs. “So, what can I get you?” 

You quickly make your order, and while you wait for the bartender to finish preparing the drinks, you take the seat right by Namjoon’s side so you can have a little chat. Either the alcohol is starting to warm you up inside, or Namjoon’s friendly smile is making you more comfortable, every bit of tension you feel is lifted when you begin laughing at his simple jokes. 

Once the drinks are ready, you reluctantly rise to return to your friends to deliver their shots. This time, you have a slight new pep in your footsteps, confidence brewing inside you after realising that you had conquered one of your insecurities tonight by chatting with Namjoon. Your friends welcome you with light cheers, and you celebrate by sharing a shot of whiskey and finishing the rest of your drink. 

It doesn’t take long before your friends decide to end the night. 

Ina is the one to step away first, when her husband calls her about one of their sons who had just gotten caught sneaking through the window after lying about doing his homework in his room. “We don’t know if he snuck out to see a girl or got himself in other kinds of trouble while he was out, but Dan needs me as a backup to get some answers from the little brat,” she says, kissing your cheek when she bids goodbye for the night. 

Chloe is the one who needs to go home next, when her husband keeps calling her about feeling lonely at home. “I can’t tell if it’s sad or cute, but I think I’ve had enough to drink for the night. I already got an Uber picking me up outside.” 

“Are you coming?” Emma asks you, her eyes looking over towards the bar before asking, “Or are you going to stay?” 

You follow her gaze, looking at Namjoon chuckling along with whatever the bartender is saying to him. A part of you is telling you to call it a night, but there is a bigger part of you that feels intrigued, and curious to see what would happen tonight if you choose differently. To be selfish for once. 

“I think I’m going to stay.” 

Your answer brings a smile to Emma’s face. She seems proud and—relieved. You have no idea why she would feel this way over your decision to stay for a man, but she simply nods and says, “All right, then I’ll ride with you, Chloe. I’ll see you on Monday, girl,” she says to you as she leans in for a hug and whispers, “Go get him.” 

You watch your friends go before finishing the rest of your drink and leaving your seat. Before you can change your mind, your legs take you towards the bar, returning to Namjoon’s side as if you are drawn to him like a moth to flame. 

“Are you calling it a night too?” Namjoon asks you when he notices you coming, his gaze flickering to follow your friends as they weave through the crowd to find the exit door, as if expecting to see you following them.  

“I don’t really want to go home yet.” You bite your lips. “I think I’m going to have another drink before leaving. Are you planning on leaving early?” 

The smile that grows on Namjoon’s face makes your heart flutter. He does look good when he smiles. “And waste the chance to drink with you? No way.” You take the empty seat that he offers right next to him, which he gently pulls closer once you are settled in. “Let me order for you. What are you having?”

“Surprise me.” 

Smiling, Namjoon orders you a Moscow Mule, causing you to raise your brows. “You ordered the same drink twice while you were here.” 

“You have quite a good memory,“ you tease him, “Are you sure you don’t work here?” 

Namjoon laughs. His eyes glimmer under the dim lighting when he says, “You’re not the kind of woman that I’d be so easy to forget.”

You can barely hold back from laughing, because you cannot find it in you to agree. 

“You don’t believe me when I say that you’re not easy to forget?” he asks, moving closer to you until you can breathe in the musky cologne he is wearing. 

“Me? I’m nothing special. I’m just”—you breathe out a sigh—”just me.”

He takes your hand, sliding his fingers to your wrist, his thumb finding your pulse where he rubs in circles. “I don’t know you very well—yet—but from what I’ve seen, ‘just you’ seems pretty damn special.”

You laugh again and take a drink, murmuring softly to him, “Thanks.”

He looks down for a moment, as if considering what to say. But he seems more determined when he lifts his gaze and looks back at you. There is something in his eyes which draws out the flutters in your chest. A new look which you have yet to see coming from him during the short time you’ve known him. 

The look which shows a different kind of want.

And you can only guess what he is thinking right now. Biting your lips, you wait until he says the words, because there is nothing that you want more right now but to go with him. You enjoy talking to him, to be in his presence, and you have a feeling that you might enjoy it more if he offers something more. 

It’s just one night, so you can possibly handle it. Right? 

Fuck. All of a sudden, you don’t feel too sure about it. 

But the gentle touch of his fingers on your skin, together with the deep timber of his voice when he hums, is slowly enticing you to open up, to give in to chance. 

Namjoon’s eyes meet yours and the same dimple smile of his returns. You swallow hard, ignoring the sound of your pounding heart as he asks,

“Do you want to get out of here?” 

Biting your lips, you can feel your chest tightening. Your heart beating fast. Hard. Your body moves to lean closer even without you meaning it to. 

“Yes,” you whisper, and his face lights up, as if he was almost sure that you were going to refuse. 

“Your place, or mine?”

A simple question, made with a light tone of voice that sounds almost joking, except that Namjoon’s heart is beating rapidly inside his chest as he says it. He already risked everything when he first asked to take you away from here. Now, it feels as if he is risking a bit more as he waits for your answer. 

You bite your lips, and your hesitance only makes him feel worse. “Is there any difference?” 

Namjoon wants to say, no, it doesn’t. The only thing that matters is for him to be spending this night with you. You push your hair back, and when your eyes meet his, he can almost feel your heart beating right up against his. 

“Are your kids home tonight?” Namjoon tries when you’re not too sure. Somehow, he understands that you might be wary about coming home to his place when you barely know him. 

“No, they’re at my parents.” 

A smile is lifted on his face. “Then are you going to take me home?” 

You return his smile and lean closer. It amazes him how quickly you switch—from shy and hesitant at one point, to feeling more confident and daring the next. And it turns him on even more when you say, “Only if you promise that you’re going to be a good boy.” 

Namjoon calls an Uber to take you both home while you make a quick stop at the restroom before leaving the place. In the short time that he has to wait for you, Namjoon struggles to keep his composure. It’s almost laughable the way it makes him feel like a newbie. For him to feel so nervous as if he is inexperienced in this. 

In a way, this is something new for him. Enough to make him feel exhilarated about what is to come. 

He turns just in time to see you walking up to him. As if your moment away had given you the chance to recoup and find some resolve, you look as if you are shining, your smile looking bright and your eyes filled with lust and want and it takes everything in him not to pull you into his arms here and now just to kiss you senseless. 

“Take me home, mama,” he jokingly says when he opens the car door for you, making you laugh. 

Instead of answering him, you grab the front of his shirt and pull him in with you until you are seated in the backseat of the car together, bringing the heat that you share into the confines of the car as it takes you back home. 

In the tight space within the car, the heat that has been building up between you becomes more palpable. You can tell that he is feeling it too. And he seems to be giving into it, when he keeps running the tips of his fingers from your hand to your wrist, when his knees keep pressing against yours, and when his eyes keep trailing from your face, down to your cleavage, and then back up to your neck, before lingering on your lips. 

He wets his lips, as if he is picturing himself tasting you with a kiss. “Can I be honest with you?” he whispers, leaning closer. 

“Of course.” 

“I…couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he admits with a soft chuckle. It seems that his confession surprises him just as much as it does to you. 

“Since the fire alert?” 

“No,” he says with a grin, “ever since the night we first met.” 

Was it at the supermarket? You wonder to yourself, trying to figure out what he could have possibly seen in you that night through the chaos with your girls. 

No, it was before, you begin to realise, as you recall the night of the cookout event at your neighbours’ backyard, when Namjoon lingered close by after sharing a quick chat with you, and when you caught him watching you from the side while you were helping your daughters with their dinner plates. 

“I told myself after watching you go that night that I shouldn’t get my hopes up, since you seemed to have a lot going on already and I probably didn’t deserve any second of your time. But then I saw you at the supermarket and I couldn’t resist saying hello.” His eyes find yours. You have no idea what kind of expression you are giving him while you are loss for words, but Namjoon’s smile softens. “And just when I thought it couldn’t have been more than a coincidence, we got the call to your office and there you were. It feels like we just keep crossing paths with each other. As if I am made to make a move.” 

Noticing that you have grown silent, Namjoon tilts his head and asks, “What’s wrong?” 

With a bitter laugh, you can only shake your head. “Nothing, it’s just—” You bite your lips, hating the way your insecurities have always been able to come to the surface the moment you try to push against your boundaries, when you try to take risks like what you are doing tonight. But you simply cannot help it. The feeling is clawing at your chest that you can barely breathe. “You know you could’ve gotten home with someone else. Someone who isn’t—” 

You try to look away, yet Namjoon isn’t having it. With his fingers on your chin, he turns your face gently so you are forced to look at him again. “Is not—what?” 

Your throat feels tight and your mouth feels bitter when you answer, “Older. A single mom. A—” 

Namjoon presses his thumb on your lips to stop you from speaking further. “Remember what I told you earlier, and I really meant it,” he says, his gaze softening and heating up at the same time. “You are special. If you had said no to me tonight, I would’ve gone home alone, and spent the rest of the night finishing the last cans of beer I still have in my fridge or eating any frozen leftovers I could find before passing out on the couch.” 

You blink. His honesty surprises you, yet you would be lying if you told yourself that it doesn’t make you feel flattered to hear him choosing you. 

As if there is a switch inside you that has been flipped, everything fades to the back of your mind. All the voices that keep putting you down are silenced. The only thing left in your mind is the image of this gorgeous man spending his night alone in his quiet home, eating one of those boxed meals you saw peeking through his grocery bag and downing beers until he falls asleep, and you decide that you are not having it. 

Seems like you are not the only one who needs to take some risks tonight just to experience some changes in life. 

“Yep. That’s it. I’m sending you dinner next time.” 

Namjoon laughs. “What—?” 

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you pull him down to you and press your lips on his, putting his words—and your thoughts—to silence with a kiss. 

“I’m sorry for the mess. The perks of having little kids are always having too many things scattered around the house, and—” 

It is still surprising to see how easy and quickly you change depending on the moment. You keep going from Miss In Control to a more subdued figure filled with insecurities. Namjoon knows that he shouldn’t, but he is adamant about changing that tonight, even if it makes him feel a myriad of things inside when you show multiple sides of you at once. 

“It’s all right,” he cuts you off with a half smile, noticing how nervous you are getting about showing him your home. 

As you move aside to start taking off your shoes and coat, Namjoon kicks his own shoes off and takes a quick glance around. Most of the lights are off, yet he can still see through the dim lighting to see what he needs to see. 

Much like his own house, your place has an open space concept, where everything is visible from the foyer. He looks at the living room to his right, where the flat television hangs against the wall, surrounded by wooden shelves filled with books and trinkets and boxes filled with toys. To his left is the open kitchen, the room is slightly more spacious than his, and cleaner, with a hint of the scent coming from the last meal you cooked today still wafting through the air. 

Truth be told, he doesn’t mind at all about how the house looks like at the moment. He even thinks that your home feels comfy, more welcoming and lively than his own, which makes him feel good and warm inside as he steps onto the threshold of your home. 

Still, right now, he has other—more important—things to pay close attention to.  

Namjoon waits until you are done taking your coat off before approaching you. 

He places an arm around your shoulders, hinting at his need to get closer. When you show no sign of pushing him away, he pulls you towards him gently, and you willingly lean into him until you are engulfed completely in his warmth, and he feels your soft body pressing against his hard muscles. He bends down and your lips meet each other, warm and welcoming as they mesh into a kiss. 

For a split second, Namjoon can feel you hesitating. But then your arms come up to wrap around him before returning the kiss. It feels gentle and soft, yet Namjoon can feel every cell in his body lighting up at the touch, and he allows that hope he ignored before to rise as he melts into the kiss

Namjoon is a firm believer that a person can tell quite a lot about the other by the way they kiss, and that the first kiss will define how the night will continue. 

He feels you parting your lips slowly as your fingers curl into fists, balling the back of his shirt. He can taste the fruity taste of your lip-gloss which you put on during your toilet break before the two of you left the bar, and he can also taste a hint of the drink you had as he lightly brushes the tip of his tongue against yours. 

The simple contact earns a soft hum from your throat, and then you tip your head back and open your mouth, asking him for more. He gladly gives it to you as he slides one hand up your waist and cups your cheek, deepening the kiss. Your grip around him tightens when his tongue pushes past your lips, bringing heat all over your body and his as he devours your mouth, and you respond by pressing your hips into his. 

Feeling like he is burning from within, Namjoon starts to pull away. But you are not having it. You move your hand to his face, and then bring him back down until his lips are back on yours. You take charge this time, kissing him as if your very existence depends on it, and Namjoon smiles into the kiss as he follows your lead.  

Tonight is going to be a good night.

As your mind grows hazy from the heated kiss, you start stumbling back until you are pressed against the front door. 

It rattles under your weight, and starts making other noises when Namjoon presses harder against you the deeper the kiss you share. You feel his feet moving, sliding between your legs, only to stop when his toes come in contact with one of Hana’s squeaky toys that had somehow fallen in the foyer. 

You break away from the kiss at the sound of his deep chuckle. The way he seems more amused than he is annoyed pleases you so that your body grows impossibly hotter. How can something so simple as a guy chuckling over a simple kid toy, completely understanding it instead of getting angry and complaining over something so trivial—just like someone you once knew and wish so badly to forget—look so incredibly hot? 

Expecting to hear him say something about it, you lift your face to look at him, only for Namjoon to bend lower again and try to kiss your lips. Bunching his shirt with your fingers, you stop him and start pushing him through the dark hall and into the kitchen, where you know there won’t be any trail of toys getting in the way. 

Namjoon lets you drag him around with a grin on his face. It seems to please him that you are the one taking the initiative, showing him that you want him just as much as he does. 

As you push him deeper into the kitchen, your hands tracing his hard chest and your lips nipping his jawline, you wonder where all of this confidence is coming from. 

It could be coming from the buzz rushing through your mind and body. It could also be this want inside you which has been lying dormant for so long, awakened simply by the heat of his kiss. Either way, you are surprised to find how easy it is to simply give in. To follow what your heart desires as if it is guiding you through the motions. 

While most of the lights have been turned off when you left your house earlier, the light from the microwave is on, casting a soft, golden glow which falls nicely on him, accentuating every line—both on his face and his body—which you desire so badly to touch and kiss and taste. 

You pull him down for that desirable kiss, and he dives straight down, his lips crashing into yours. And then he starts kissing you fast, hard, as if his very existence depends on this kiss. You kiss him back with the same need, taking his lip between your teeth, drawing a soft sound coming out of his throat. His chest rumbles against yours as he gently pushes you backwards. 

Namjoon pins you against the kitchen counter, placing you between the hard counter and his rock-hard chest. He moves his knees between your legs, keeping them apart. You can feel his cock straining against his jeans as he bucks his hips forward, pressing roughly into your stomach. Then he moves his mouth to your neck, kissing, sucking, making you moan, distracting you from the object of his desire that you want so badly to touch.

Without unlatching his lips from your skin, Namjoon sweeps his fingers across your collarbone, finding the strap from your top that is already hanging off your shoulder. He pulls away, his dark gaze following his fingers as he unhooks the other strap off your shoulder until your top falls down to your waist, exposing your lacy dark purple bra which you had intentionally chosen for the night. 

He watches closely as your chest rises and falls with your ragged breath, murmuring softly, “Beautiful. You are so hot, baby.”

Your entire body shudders with the sound of his deep voice, recognising the hunger in it. Heat forms in your belly after knowing that his words are meant for you. He slowly walks his palms up your body, reaching up to cup your breasts with his strong palms. 

A moan slips out of your lips at his touch, when the gentle pressure he is giving on your mounds sends heated sparks through your body. The sound you are making seems to snap something in him, as he moves his mouth back to yours, kissing you softly, teasing, while his thumbs begin to move over your covered nipples in small circles. 

You draw a sharp inhale of breath at the delightful sensation he is making you feel, which is swallowed by his kiss. Your chest rises, pressing your breasts into his palms. The shiver running through your body feels so intense, blocking everything else as you push your tongue back into his mouth at the same time your hands slip under his shirt. 

His skin feels warm. His chest feels firm and broad. You can feel his breath hitching at the touch of your fingers, his body shivering as your hands start inching closer and closer to his cock as you walk them down his torso. 

It draws a deep groan from him, yet he keeps kissing you. He continues to caress your breasts until your nipples grow hard against his palms, and that is when he finally moves his hands down. You only get to pop the button of his jeans open before he catches your wrists, stopping you from going further as he brings them to your back, pinning them together to confine you. 

You push and strain against his grasp, only to fail when his hold is firm. Surprisingly, being restrained in his hold and losing control is not making you feel powerless. Instead, it becomes a complete turn-on to have someone taking control of you that your body heats up with a stronger need for more. 

Shocked at this revelation, you pull back with a gasp. 

“Let me touch you,” you whine as you try to pull your hands out of his, drawing a deep chuckle from him. 

“Not yet, baby,” he murmurs against your lips. “I want to see all of you first.”  

He kisses you again, deep enough to make you arch your back so your hips are pressed into his. You widen your legs and he presses forward, his toned thigh pressing at your pulsing center. The sensation you feel as you begin rubbing your covered pussy over his thigh feels explosive, and it is driving you insane that you cannot touch him at the same time. 

You feel him smiling in the kiss, clearly enjoying this; your desperation and need, and the way you are chasing for pleasure even under his restraint. He moves his mouth to your neck again, nipping at the skin. You try to twist your arm to set yourself free, but Namjoon lifts his head to stop you with a look. 

“These naughty hands need to stay back, baby. Do you hear me?” he asks as he guides your hands to rest against the small of your back, your wrists resting on the hard countertop pressing from behind you. 

Your mouth falls open, but every complaint and defiance that you want to give him fades under his dark gaze. Pulling away, Namjoon grabs the hem of your top and pulls it over your head, dropping it behind him, before he once again guides your hands to return to their position on your back. He leans back just enough for him to run his gaze over your body, giving you an appreciative look while humming softly. 

The heat of his gaze only brings back your insecurities, however, as you grow nervous under his trailing eyes, and you look away, casting a quick glance down your middle. Having two kids over the years has left a few things behind; light scars, stretch marks marring your skin, and uneven curves forming in places which you can only hide under your daily clothes. You realise only now one of the many reasons why you had never considered dating and being intimate again with someone—anyone—and much less have any interest in having hookups or one-night-stand. 

Namjoon notices the change of mood in your silence. He captures your chin and gently draws your gaze back to his face. “Don’t be shy,” he murmurs as he presses a light kiss on your lips, “You’re so fucking beautiful.” 

You blink, once again his words winning as you feel your heart strengthening, gaining back your confidence. “You really think so?” you ask him after taking an audible breath. 

“God, yes,” he says with a slight groan in his voice, drawing a soft giggle out of you. “Don’t you ever question it, baby.” 

Biting down your smile, your eyes flutter down with pleasure and relief. “Good.” 

“Now, where were we?” he asks as he lets go of your chin, his arms dropping to his sides. He reaches down to unbutton your tight pants, yet you beat him to it when you take the hem of his shirt in your hands and help him pull it off, before tossing it away out of reach. 

“Naughty girl. What did I say about those hands?” he asks, and then he is kissing you again to distract you from taking back control. 

He wraps his arm around your waist. For a second, you expect him to lift you up and set you up on the counter. Just like those scenes you have often read in the spicy romance book you have edited over the years. But then he surprises you when he lifts you up to carry you away, taking you towards the dining table instead. 

With your eyes fluttering close in the kiss, the only thing you notice is the sound of the chair scrapping on the floor, before he releases you and falls back. Your mind is hazy when you open your eyes, seeing him sitting back on the dining chair while guiding you to stand between his parted legs. 

Swaying a little, you lean into his touch as he sneaks his fingers down the waistband of your tight pants and begins pulling them down. “Let me see these off, baby.” 

He doesn’t have to say it twice, as you slip your thumbs down the band of your pants and begin wiggling it down your legs. You keep your eyes on him while kicking the pants away, ignoring the shudder running through your body at the heat of his gaze and the chill breeze falling on your exposed skin. 

Sneaking a glance down your body, you follow his gaze to be able to see what he is seeing. You are relieved that you had at least thought of choosing a matching pair of new undergarments to wear tonight, instead of wearing your old mismatched ones like you usually do when you have to rush in the mornings. 

Standing in front of him like this makes you feel self-conscious. But the desire that is so palpable in his eyes helps you ignore all unappealing thoughts you ever have about yourself. 

Smiling coyly to him, you sweep your hands up your stomach, slowly reaching up over your breasts. His hands begin to clench on his side as he watches you kneading your covered breasts. You watch him licking his lips when you press your breasts until they come together, offering him with a gentle voice, “Do you like what you’re seeing? Do you want me to take this off too?” 

“No, not yet. I want to enjoy seeing you like this a bit longer,” Namjoon answers you with a deep voice that sounds almost like a growl. “Come here.” 

At his gentle command, your legs move on their own, taking you closer to him. He grabs your waist, keeping you steady as you climb onto his lap, your legs spreading wide around his waist and your arms come around his broad shoulders. 

Being in this position allows you to feel everything. To feel more. 

Every part of him feels hard against your soft body. His warmth comes pressing on every inch of your skin, allowing you to feel the heat rushing under, pooling from between your legs. You feel exposed, and the sensation is intensified as you have your legs opened for him. 

Smiling, Namjoon walks his hand around your waist. With his palm splayed on your back, he gently pushes you forward. Once again, you collide into each other, your breasts are crushed against his chest, and your lips are entangled with his in a hard, needy kiss. 

His kiss is slow, gentle, almost languid. Almost as if he is trying to savour the moment, yet it feels as if you are melting into him. You can still feel him taking control of this moment when his lips are pressing hard against yours and his tongue slipping into your mouth to swallow the sounds you are making. 

In the rising pleasure, your brain is slowly turning into mush. Your eyes flutter close, and you revel in the sensations that he is bringing to your body, to every single touch and kiss. You drown yourself in his heated kiss, as he swallows your moans with his mouth and tongue. You lean into his strong hands as one moves up your stomach, cupping your breast and rubbing against your hardened nipple, and the other moves along the curves of your body, trailing down your waist to your hips, before cupping your soft bottom. 

His palm presses harder into your soft flesh, making you grow alert of your own movements, finally noticing that your body seems to have gained a mind of its own, moving and grinding his lap in the heat of the moment. 

Your covered center starts growing hot and wet as you keep rubbing against his hips. A gasp escapes your throat as you feel his covered hard-on pressing at your pulsing center. Using his palm, Namjoon guides your steady rocking, each thrust forward falling in tune with each thrust and stroke of his tongue in your mouth. 

Within moments, the heat inside your core rising into small waves of pleasure. Drunken in lust, you lean into him more to chase it, rocking harder, faster, pressing more into his hard cock until you feel like you are hanging on the edge of release. 

“Oh, God,” you gasp against his mouth, moments too close to your first orgasm. 

Namjoon mutters a curse, and his hands tighten on the soft flesh of your bottom, putting everything into a halt. He flips you around to face away from him, doing it with such ease as if you weigh nothing. As you fall back against his chest, your knees drape over his thighs, spreading wide, your throbbing pussy facing away from his heat, away from the its final release. 

“You need relief, baby?” His voice sounds thick as he whispers to your ear. Without waiting for your answer, his fingers zero in on the exact place where you need them to be, as he begins rubbing your clit from over your delicate panties. “Hmmm? I need you to answer me. Let me know what you want.” 

“Yes,” you hiss at his touch, barely able to answer his question while urging him on as you rock your hips into his touch. Namjoon’s other hand moves up to cup your breast, kneading and squeezing until you feel your nipple growing hard under your bra. The ache building on your breasts pulses in the same rhythm as the throbbing you feel building on your clit, which he presses the pad of his fingers onto, moving them in circles. 

“God, Namjoon,” you whine, already panting when he keeps touching all the right places, inciting all the reactions from your body as heat rises from your core. Reaching down, you place your hand over his, your fingers pressing atop of his strong digits as you press against them, causing his touch to grow firm and steady, before you slip your fingers under and slide your panties aside for him. 

Namjoon’s chest rumbles as he groans deeply. “Oh, yeah, that’s it, baby. Offer that sweet little pussy for me.” 

Your cheeks flush with warmth upon hearing his words, and then the warmth spreads through your body when his fingers move to touch your flesh. His fingers are big and strong, yet delicate at the same time. They glide over your slit, which has grown embarrassingly wet, capturing every essence of your arousal as he moves them between your folds. You press your pelvis down to meet his touch, urging him on, and he complies by working his middle finger inside you. 

It feels like forever since the last time you have had sex, and it surely shows because you can already feel your orgasm building the second he starts pumping his finger inside you. The pleasure feels maddening. Enough to make you lose control of yourself as your body rocks with him. You don’t even recognise the sounds coming out of your throat as you embrace the sensations he brings out of you. 

As he feels you giving in to the pleasure, Namjoon adds a second finger, stretching you further. 

Your head falls back on his shoulder as you cry out with pleasure. Your body falls lax against him, powerless against his touch. So he moves his other arm down, wrapping it around your waist to keep you from falling as he continues thrusting his fingers in and out, all while pressing the heel of his palm against your clit until you are weeping with desire. When he abruptly pulls his fingers out of you, your pussy clutches on emptiness. 

Needing friction, or something to relief this new need of yours, you begin pressing your wet mound against his thigh, intending to start rubbing against it until you find some kind of release. But Namjoon stops you by delivering a sharp slap, right between your legs. 

“Naughty,” he growls in your ear. “I thought this pussy is mine?” 

Your hips shoot up at the lingering ache, which awakens the throbbing inside your pussy, causing your mind to go fuzzy with the mixed of pain and pleasure he brings to your body. 

Namjoon spanks your pussy again, lighter this time, before going slightly harder when coming back for the third time. Then, as if he knows that you are about to explode, he shoves two fingers right back inside you and starts fucking you with them, moving hard and rough, no longer holding back. It feels intense, sending you light speed towards the peak of your pleasure. 

With a cry slipping out of your lips, your head falls back on his shoulder as the wave of pleasure engulfs you. Digging your nails into his forearms, you ride his fingers, bucking against each thrust of his hand, your walls clenching tightly around him, and your toes curling underneath. Your orgasm comes to you strongly, going on and on while Namjoon keeps his fingers wedged inside you, and you can feel your walls contracting around them as you come all over them. 

Dear God, help me. 

You find yourself praying. Never before had you ever lost control the way you do now. Never once have you ever felt so much pleasure, to make you feel something so intense that you feel like you are losing your mind. 

Namjoon waits until you come down from your release before easing his fingers out of you. Your body grows limp against his, causing him to wrap his arms tighter around you to hold you still. His lips find your shoulder, pressing a gentle kiss while he smooths your panties back in place. 

“That’s it, sweet mama. Relax with me,” he murmurs in your ear, helping you calm down before rearranging your position until you come to face him once more, your legs straddling his toned thighs, pressing against his muscles, his warmth, and the rapid pounding of his heartbeat under your palms.  

“Everything okay?” 

You are still too delirious that you can barely think straight, yet you manage to nod and whisper, “Yeah. Everything’s good.” 

Looking into his eyes, you reach down between your bodies and press your palm over his covered bulge. “But I’m not sure that you’re feeling the same.” 

Groaning deeply, Namjoon’s eyes flutter to close. You continue stroking his covered cock, feeling it hardening under your touch and pushing against his pants that is partly undone. “Keep touching me like that, mama. And I’ll fuck you right here, right now. Or I’ll take you right on top of that counter, right where you’ll be making breakfast for your sweet girls the first morning they’re home.” 

His threat draws a moan from deep within your throat. Biting your lips, you steal a glance towards the kitchen counter. As tempting as it sounds to follow your wanton desire, to be taken hard and rough right where you spend most of your days and mornings, you want something different. You don’t want this to end so quickly, for the night to feel so instant, and you want to savour this pleasure for as long as you are allowed to.  

“Mmm…No, we can’t have that,” you whisper, turning to him to nip his jaw, making him groan. Carefully, you step back from his lap. Your legs are trembling when you try to stand on your own, yet you muster a smile as you calmly say, “Come.” 

You hold out your hand and he grabs it as he rises to his feet. He follows you down the hall and up the stairwell. Past the landing which is surrounded by framed pictures of yourself with your family and your sweet girls and their creative drawings filling the walls, you continue walking upstairs, feeling more self-conscious the closer you get to your bedroom. 

Right before your nerves begin to get in the way, Namjoon’s arms come around you, holding you to his chest as you crash through the doorway to your bedroom. His lips capture yours, swallowing the sound of your laughter until you fall backwards on the bed. 

Standing on the foot of the bed, Namjoon stands tall, a solid figure standing at the center of your world of chaos. He says nothing as he runs his gaze over your body, appreciating what he sees one last time which brings back your confidence. All for knowing that he is liking what he sees. 

Drawn by the urge to touch him, to feel, you push yourself up and start tugging his pants down. “Off—” you murmur as you struggle to peel the damn thing off of him, earning his chuckle. Namjoon helps you halfway, stopping briefly to pull something out of his back pocket before he tosses his whole pants away. He wastes no more time to continue where he left off, as he pushes you back to the bed and lowers himself to you. 

Your arms go around his shoulders to welcome him. Your eyes meet each other again, allowing you to see something that you failed to notice before. Behind his heated gaze, the warm dimple smile, and the alluring words filled with his raw desire, lies another emotion haunting like a shadow. 

An emotion that you know too damn well as it mirrors your own. 

Desperation. 

Swallowing hard, you feel the same emotion coming out of you in strides; the desperation to belong and to be happy; to be able to move through life without being haunted by the unwarranted fear of getting hurt. The desperation to feel. 

Allowing that emotion to take over, you pull him down to you and kiss him deeply. You run your hands down his back, pressing at his spine until he lowers his hips onto yours. You can feel his hard cock pressing on you, its wet tip sticking out from the top of his briefs, rubbing against your skin. You regret not having the chance to have a look at it, to appreciate it through more than your dainty touch. Yet you cannot deny the desperate need to feel him inside you, filling you up until there is nothing left of you when he is done. 

Arching your back, you rock against him, pressing your tender center against his bulge. His mouth unlatches from yours, and then he pulls the lacy cups of your bra with a rough tug, tucking them under your breasts to push them up. He keeps his palms on them, touching them directly this time, skin to skin, bringing all the shudders back and rising twofolds as you cry out his name. 

His mouth finds your neck, and the touch of his lips is almost enough to make you come and unravel right there and then, yet you manage to hold back with a bite of your lip. Without taking his mouth off of you, Namjoon runs his hand down, finding your center and pressing down. The pleasure sparks through your body like fireworks as he rubs in circles against your covered center, pressing against your slit, rubbing at your covered clit, and then finding your wetness to draw out more essence out of you. 

Every nerve in your body comes awake and lights up at the same time, allowing you to feel everything that he is giving you. Engulfed in the pleasure, you barely feel him as Namjoon starts moving down, spreading his fingers down your thighs to part your legs for him, before plunging his head between your quivering thighs. 

You feel a soft tug at your panties, and then cold breeze touches your skin as Namjoon slides the center of your panties aside, exposing your tender pussy. “I wanted to taste you so badly,” he murmurs against your skin as he presses his lips on the apex of your thigh, then he moves to the other side, before reaching to the center, drawing a sharp cry out of you when he presses a kiss right at your folds. 

His tongue drags through your flesh before he sucks gently on your swollen bud. A shiver shoots right up through your body as pleasure sparks from beneath, and he starts fucking you with his tongue. In and out he presses and licks with his warm, soft tongue, tasting your essence with a deep hum, while his mouth keeps stealing a kiss and sucking, intensifying the pleasure. 

With your hands sinking into the sheets beneath you, your hips begin to move, rocking against his mouth and riding the sensation as it grows more and more intense. You lift your head to watch him work. The look he gives you when he returns your gaze causes your body to twitch, your muscles tightening as pleasure coils through your core. 

With a grin, Namjoon buries his face deeper, his teeth grazing at your clit before lapping at the swollen bud with his tongue to take away the pinch of pain. The sensation sends your body falling back. Still rocking your hips to ride the pleasure, you twist the sheets in one hand, and then take a handful of his short hair with the other. 

It doesn’t take long before the familiar wave of pleasure starts rolling through your body, rising intensely from the depth of your core. Your breath quickens as you are climaxing into his mouth. It comes so strongly that you can feel it rushing all the way down to your toes. A series of breathless moans come out of your lips at the same pace as the pulses of pleasure coming alight from inside as your orgasm rolls through your body. 

Your head is ringing with the waves of your orgasm that you barely aware of how you are pulling at his hair, twisting the short strands in your grasp as you writhe beneath him. Yet he doesn’t stop. Not even when he feels you slowly coming down from your high. 

Namjoon continues to lap at your taste, licking away your release as he murmurs gently against your mound, “Fuck, you taste so damn good, baby.” 

His voice fades in and out of you, until he slips a finger inside you, pressing against your inner walls. He pushes right in, curling the tip as he pulls out, finding the sweet spot that sends another jolt of pleasure through your body. Realising this, he adds another finger and starts working them at the same rhythm as the movement of his tongue. Your legs begin shaking, your hips are rising against his other palm that is resting on your lower belly to keep you down, but nothing holds you from erupting as the force of your second orgasm quickly rolls through you, sending you over the edge with a cry. 

You feel a shift on the bed as Namjoon moves on top of you and presses his lips on yours. The remnants of your orgasm is still pulsing through you, and your ears are still ringing, that you can only take what he is giving you, letting him bring you back to the present with his kiss. 

Once you manage to catch your breath, you bring your hands up to him and start pushing his briefs down his hips. He rises slightly from you, taking away his weight and his warmth as he kicks his briefs down his ankle and away. His hand reaches down, wrapping his fingers around his hard girth. 

This time, you take the chance to appreciate his beauty. Just like his hard body, his cock seems beautiful, big and thick and heavy even in his strong palm. 

With his eyes on your face, Namjoon begins lowering himself on you. Your hips rise to welcome him when you feel his cock falling heavy on your stomach. Your hand reaches down between you, as if you are under a spell. Your fingers wrap around him, drawing a soft gasp from his lips. 

Licking your lips, you watch yourself giving him a few light strokes. He seems to enjoy this, as his hips slowly move to return each stroke, each brush of your palm with a thrust of his cock. Groaning deeply, Namjoon bends down to cover you with his hard body. His lips find your neck, kissing the column of your throat as his fingers return to your mounds, pressing into your slit and using the slickness of your arousal and release to move around your entrance. 

“Namjoon, please—” Your breath catches when you feel the tip of his finger pressing at your entrance, pushing against your sensitive walls. He enters you slowly with his fingers. It feels delightful, yet you are ready to feel more. “Mhhh…not enough,” you whine breathlessly, “I want you…inside…now.” 

He chuckles against your throat, and the vibrations you feel coming from his body aren’t exactly helping to lessen the pool of desire between your legs, nor the tight clench of your walls around his fingers. He gives your pussy a few more thrusts of his fingers before he pulls them out, and reaches out to the other side of the bed. 

The soft crinkle sound of a foil gets your heartbeat speeding up in your chest. It’s happening, the voice in your head whispers. Excitement rolls through you, and a wicked through flashes through your head when you meet his gaze again. 

You bite your lip and smile, and then you lift your hands, pushing against his shoulders to bring him down onto the mattress. You follow him as he falls back, and then you climb on top of him, enjoying the thrill rushing through you when you see the shock clearly flashing through his gaze. 

He grips your hips as you straddle him, keeping you steady until you are sitting in the right position. So right that you can feel his hard cock pressing at your slick center from beneath. 

“Well, damn,” he chuckles as he watches you press down your hips on him. “That’s it. Take control, mama. Show me what you want from me.” 

You make a humming sound as you begin rocking over him, pressing down against his length. Your panties have grown completely soiled, placed improperly over your mound that you can feel him partly rubbing against your skin. “You know what I want,” you whisper, moaning when you feel his girth rubbing at your clit. 

Hoping to feel more, you continue rocking, rubbing your center along the length of his cock. But it isn’t enough. The panties keep getting in the way just when you are close to getting what you want. You reach down to begin peeling the damn thing off of you when Namjoon takes over. 

“Let me help you with that,” he says, before he suddenly lifts himself up to a sitting position. His hands are quick to catch your waist to stop you from falling back, keeping you on his lap as he moves his hand to your back.

His eyes look down on your heaving chest, and then his hands are pulling at your undergarments. Starting from your bra, as he expertly peels it off of you within a blink of an eye, then continuing to reach down. The ripping sound of your panties as they fall apart fills the room before you can feel yourself being freed from its presence. The strong pull that he gives on the flimsy fabric barely feels like anything on your skin, your mind too muddled to process it until it is too late. 

The moment it dawns on you what is happening, there is nothing else that you can do but to watch with wide eyes, mouth gaping in shock, as Namjoon lifts your ruined panties to his lips and breathes in.

“You won’t be needing them for a while,” he says with a hum at the sound of your sharp inhale of breath.   

“You’re so bad.” An incredulous laugh comes out of you as he tosses the tattered panties away. 

His hands return to your waist then and he pulls you closer, settling you down nicely on his lap as he asks, “Maybe I am. Are you going to punish me for being a bad boy?” 

“Maybe I will,” you tease him as you run your fingers up his chest, pushing him back down. “Naughty boy.” 

The glimmer of the foil he is holding between his fingers catches your attention. You pick it up, ripping the foil and letting the rubber fall on your palm. “Is this okay?” 

He nods, and then his eyes darken as you gently slide the condom down the length of his cock. Your can feel him twitching under your touch, his head falling back briefly with a groan coming out of his throat when the tips of your fingers meet his skin. Once he is perfectly covered, you move back into position. 

Namjoon gently guides you back over him, straddling him once again without anything else getting in the way this time. 

You lean forward and place a kiss on his lips, one that feels a bit too sweet and shy. For a moment, your confidence wanes. Being on top of him, unrestrained, and being in complete control makes you feel subconscious with yourself. It makes you feel insecure, suddenly feeling worried that you might not be enough. 

As you sit up, your pussy rocks against his cock. You can feel his girth pressing against the dampness which has been growing between your legs, the heat of his body radiates from him and it transfers through your body with each pulse of his blood that you feel against you. 

His fingers find their place between your legs, rubbing your clit in slow circles, drawing moans after moans, shudders rolling through your body that you begin moving in response to his touch. Your hips buck up against his hand, desperate for friction. You continue rolling your body as he presses just a bit harder, drawing yet another moan from your lips that comes together with the intense shiver surging from your core. 

Enjoying the way you are reacting to him, he rises up to steal a kiss, chuckling softly against your mouth when he feels the twitch of your hips when his cock is pressing harder against your folds. He pulls back, showing you his wicked grin that has your heart beating rapidly. 

You lift your hips, and he reaches down to position his cock against your opening. Your body instantly trembles when you feel him nudging against your pussy, spreading your entrance to allow himself in. Then you begin to slide down on him, taking it slow as you take his cock inside you, inch by delicious inch. Your legs quiver around him as you feel him spreading your tight walls, yet you welcome him with a slow moan, allowing yourself to take him deeper as you continue going down, until he is almost fully inside you and you are nearly resting on his hips. 

A pulse rocks through you once, and you carefully lift yourself up, sliding up his length and coming back down, getting deeper in your descent. 

“You are so perfect,” he whispers to you as you continue riding his cock, keeping a slow pace as you adjust yourself to his size. 

Namjoon falls back, letting you take control. Something that no other person has ever done before. He keeps his eyes on you as you continue moving on top of him, sliding up and down the length of his cock, while embracing the waves of pleasure that you get to feel from your constant rocking. His eyes are filled with admiration as he watches you move, your head falling back at the height of your pleasure, your chest arching, showing him the sight of your shaking breasts. 

“You are so fucking hot,” he moans, taking your breasts in his hands. You relish every single sensation you are feeling with a moan. It feels incredible. Not just this—the sex, the feeling of him being buried inside your heat, filling you up and giving you pleasure—but also for feeling like you are free. 

Sitting naked on top of such a gorgeous man, rocking up and down his cock, enjoying the pleasure without your nerves getting in the way, your insecurities left forgotten. It feels so damn empowering to be owning up to your sexuality, to your wanton desire, after having it denied for so long. All because of your haunting past making you feel like you are less than the person you are now. 

These thoughts push you to ride him harder, faster, your fingers sinking into the sheets on either side of him to anchor you against him, while his fingers grow tighter on your hips to help you ride him to chase your pleasure. 

“That’s it, baby,” he urges you on with a breathy voice, deep groans slipping out of him when you begin fucking him wildly. “Go on, let it go, mama.” 

Holding you up against him, Namjoon begins rocking his hips, thrusting up to meet you in your descend. The maddening pleasure rocks through you, and another wave of climax sets off, coiling from your core, up to your lower belly. And right as you are ready to plunge into your climax, Namjoon bends forward, capturing one of your nipples with his mouth and begins sucking, while he reaches up to pinch the other with his fingers. 

With a sharp cry, you unravel completely without fail. Your orgasm comes to you not in waves but an explosion, the pain only intensifies the pleasure as it hits, and your body trembles as you embrace it. 

Everything fades in and out as your mind and body recovers from the intense high. Your legs are quivering too much that you fall onto his chest, and Namjoon carefully flips you to the side until you are on your back. Ears once again ringing, the sounds of him moving on the sheets seem so distant. But you can feel the dip when he lowers himself on you, his lips finding yours, bringing you back, and then pressing against your neck to quiet down the rapid pulsing of blood surging under your skin. 

Once your mind regains clarity, you notice his hand moving. You open your eyes when you cannot feel his touch, and realise that he is giving himself some lazy strokes. “You haven’t gotten yours,” you whisper with a raspy voice, and his grin returns. 

“You’ve already came too many times, so—” 

Shaking your head, you reach up and pull him back to you. “I can’t be the only one feeling good tonight,” you insist as you capture his lips, enticing him with a light bite. As he returns the kiss, your legs spread open for him, welcoming him back to you. “I want to make you feel good too.” 

Groaning, Namjoon deepens the kiss. Still stroking himself, he uses the other hand to gently touch your tender pussy, making sure that you won’t hurt if he continues. “Are you sure?” he murmurs against your lips, before feeling you nod. 

Unable to wait long, he quickly gets between your legs again. He covers you with his heat, his toned chest pressing down against your body, delightfully engulfing you with his warmth. Then his hips rock forward, pressing the wet tip of his stiff cock against your pulsing heat. Your back arches the moment you feel him pushing, just enough until you feel the tip penetrating your entrance.

“Namjoon—” you gasp out his name, and his hands come down to your hips, holding you still as he enters you, thrusting deep and slow. 

Your legs are spread wider, giving him room to get as deep as he possibly can until your hips are flushed against each other. 

Fuck yes, you can hear yourself screaming in your head, while your mouth gapes open with a breathless moan at how full you are feeling with him snugged inside your pussy. 

“God, fuck—you feel amazing,” he breathes out as he too becomes still. 

Your body clenches around his cock at hearing his words, loving how his praise is stroking at your ego. It seems that your body has gotten used to him so well that he feels like a perfect fit inside you. 

“You don’t feel too bad yourself,” you playfully tease him, making him groan deeply that you can feel his entire body vibrating all the way to your core. 

“Not bad, huh?” he groans, almost sounding feral when he continues his gentle rocking. “Guess I’ll have to stop holding back, then.” 

With a groan, he pulls back almost all the way out and thrusts back into you, rocking both of you against the mattress as he fucks you into it. You grab tightly on the messy sheets beneath you, already tangled by the previous rocking and fucking and growing even messier now that he is picking up pace immediately. It feels intense, making you feel delirious as he moves in and out of you rapidly. And it feels so damn good that you just don’t want it to stop. 

“Oh, baby...so perfect,” he gasps, and you open your eyes to see his eyes glazing over with pleasure as he gets lost in your body. 

It turns you on so badly to see a man unraveling this way—to be so lost in his pleasure and growing feral as he gives in completely to the sensation. At the same time, it makes you feel powerful, knowing that you are the one making him this way. For someone like him to let his guard down and show you the real part of him. To let you see how raw and passionate he becomes when he is bringing pleasure to both of your bodies. 

It makes you feel so hot, and it feels so good, that it practically sends you straight into your final climax. To unravel the same way he does at the pleasure of his lovemaking. 

“Keep tightening around me like that, and I won’t last long,” he warns you, while you can only hold back a grin. As if you will take his words like you would to a threat. 

You run your hands up his chest, feeling up his toned muscles as they strain with each thrust he is giving you, before you reach up to the back of his neck and grab a handful of his short hair. A smile grows on your face when he lets out another groan, and his hips nearly buckle and twitch as his rocking begins to grow haste. 

He’s close. 

“Oh, fuck. I’m coming,” he groans, although it almost sounds like he is shouting.

“Yes, please. Come with me. I’m also there,” you whimper breathlessly when your orgasm starts to build. 

His grip on your hips tightens as he begins pumping into you fast and hard, hitting all the right spots. You almost believe that he is also growing firmer, harder, bigger, that the only thing you can feel is him, rubbing against your throbbing walls and pushing you over the edge. 

A scream slips out of you when the orgasm hits like a massive wave. Your back is almost lifted completely off the bed as your entire body vibrates with pleasure. You can hear him shouting under the sound of your rapid heartbeat, before you feel him pulsing, spilling his heat into you as he joins you in his own orgasm. 

Your legs are wrapped around his hips while your arms are hooked around his neck as you hold onto him, refusing to let go as you relish the waves of your orgasm until they begin to settle. You have barely gotten back control of your breathing when he leans down, capturing your lips into a kiss. 

The kiss is slow, almost languid, and just as gentle as the movement of his hands as he runs them down your sweaty body. You can still the spasms of your climax lingering as he slowly pulls out of you, allowing you to feel his presence even as he pulls away, dropping right beside you with a soft grunt. 

Your eyes are already fluttering to close while he takes his time taking care of his soiled condom and tossing it away to the trash. Yet you are still coherent when he returns, engulfing you in his strong arms, filling your breath with his scent. 

“That was fucking amazing,” he mumbles against your skin as you feel his lips pressing on your bare shoulder. 

“Hmm…yes, it was…” 

A sigh leaves your lips. The content feeling weaving through your body steals the words that you want so badly to say. 

Incredible. Astounding. 

“Magical,” you find yourself whispering, drawing a soft chuckle from him. 

You look at him through your hazy eyes, finding him looking back at you with a different shadow lingering in his gaze which makes you want to say the words that you never expected you would say to him. 

Stay the night. 

The words die on your tongue as sleep is slowly dragging you down. You try to fight it, even if you aren’t quite sure about saying those words out loud. You have no idea what will come out of this. All you can think about is that you don’t want this to end too soon. 

“The girls are out all weekend, aren’t they?” His voice breaks the silence, forcing you to open your eyes. 

“Yes, they’re staying at their grandparents. I won’t have to pick them up until Monday afternoon,” you breathlessly answer, recalling faintly how your mother had offered to take Suzy to school and Hana to kindergarten so you wouldn’t have to drive all the way to her house on a Sunday, expecting you to sleep through your hangover and spend the day resting. “Why are you asking?” 

“I just wasn’t sure how they would react coming home to find a grown-ass man snuggling with their mom.” He softly chuckles, and in a brief moment of silence, you see a different look appearing in his eyes. A part of him that seems more vulnerable coming out of him in waves, right before he asks you, “Unless you want me out of here?” 

Once again, you can see yourself in his gaze. To once again share the same emotions, the same vulnerability which feels too damn familiar. Deep down, you start wishing that you didn’t see it. Because seeing this side of him only makes you care a lot more than you should for someone who is only supposed to be your one-night-stand. Because seeing it only makes you want more. 

You close your eyes and try not to think too deeply about it. Not when your mind is still muddled from the wild sex you just had with him. And when his touch is still lingering on your skin. 

You can worry about this tomorrow, you hear the same small voice in your head whispering, and you decide that you are going to listen this time. 

Pushing yourself up, you pull the blanket from the foot of the bed and drag it up to cover both of your nakedness before sliding back to him. “Nope, you’re staying,” you firmly say as you tuck him in. “I promised to make you dinner, but I really don’t have any energy left to leave the bed right now, so you can make it up by helping me make breakfast tomorrow.” 

Namjoon laughs. He visibly relaxes beside you when he mutters, “I love it when you boss me around.” 

You stop to look at him, biting your lips before asking, “Would you mind if I keep doing that?” 

His smile softens, and the alluring dimple returns for a brief second as he leans in to kiss your temple. “Boss me around anytime, mama. I’ll be good. I promise.” 

Author’s Note 2.0 | Thank you for reading. If you enjoyed this story, please leave a like and reblog to share with your friends and let me know what you think. See you in the next one! PS. You can get to know Jin the bartender and read his story in Blurred Lines. 

— ©Yoonia, all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind, translations, unsanctioned adaptations are not allowed.

[meangirls-imagines]

Hey! Can I request a Regina x Reader fic where Regina sees you talking to another girl who, in Regina’s opinion, is a wannabe of Regina. She’s somewhat touchy with you so of course Regina gets mad at you. You’re confused on why Regina is mad at you at first, which makes her angrier. You go to Gretchen for help. Then when you do know what it’s about, you spend the rest of the day grovelling at Regina’s feet until she decides to forgive you. She doesn’t hesitate to tell you how much of a Regina-wannabe the girl you were talking to is, though.

Wannabe Blondie

Summary: Regina's unwanted wannabe gets too close to you. Regina being Regina doesn't take to kindly to that. Thanks to Gretchen, you figure it out and grovel to your girl.

WARNINGS: suggestive, jealous Regina, aggressive Regina, fluff

Regina George was one in a million.

So she thought.

Until a girl named Ashley Cunningham showed up to North Shore.

Regina didn't have a problem with it. She was a changed woman who didn't get mad at petty things but things...changed.

Ashley started dressing like her, acting like her, duplicating her routines, etc..

Now, Regina loved her admirers but there was something...different about this. It was like she was trying to actively become Regina, which the original recipe herself was going to brush off.

Until the bitch decided to involve Y/N.

Y/N and Regina had been dating since Spring Fling their junior year, after everything happened. Regina had never been happier. Y/N treated her well, respected her, took care of her. The greenest flag a girl could be.

On Monday, Y/N had met Regina at the blonde's locker. Regina smiled as the girl approached, pecking her lips. "Hi sweetie. Ready to go?" Y/N smiled and sighed. "I wish I could, mama, but Mr. Rapp is having me tutor some sophomore girl."

Regina's brow furrowed. "Who?" Y/N thought for a second and then remembered.

"Some girl named Ashley Cunningham."

What. The. Fuck

Regina plastered on a fake smile. "Sounds great baby. Just come over when you're done?" Y/N smiled and nodded and kissed the blonde's cheek. "It won't be too bad."

It was bad. Very bad.

It seemed every time Regina wanted to hang out with Y/N, Ashley somehow, someway, always butted in.

"Y/N, I need help with these problems."

"Y/N, I don't get this."

And bless her girlfriend's heart. Y/N had always been oblivious, that's what took them so long to get together. As the days went on, Regina began to notice how Ashley adopted her mannerisms.

Pink on Wednesdays, doing her hair like Regina's, figuring out her perfume and buying it. It was creeping Regina out. But it was also pissing her off because there is only ONE Regina George.

The last day of this nightmare, Regina decided to pay her girl a visit during her last tutoring session with the spawn of Satan. She walked into the library and automatically saw Y/N and Ashley at a table. Y/N was overlooking Ashley's paper and Ashley seemed to be leaning closer and closer to Y/N.

Regina made her way over quietly. "Okay. Everything looks good. Just go give this to Mr. Rapp and you should be good to go." Ashley nodded and took the paper back.

"You've been such a godsend Y/N. How can I ever repay you?" Y/N shook her head. "Don't worry about it, just trying to help." Ashley draped herself over Y/N. "Please. I'll do anything."

Y/N uncomfortably moved out of the way. "Yeah, no. I have to get to Regina." Ashley scoffed. "Why have her when I'm right here?"

Regina decided to make herself known and speak up. "Because I'm better than you in every sense." Y/N smiled at the sight of her girlfriend but was met with a glare.

Ashley scoffed again. "Sure you are." Regina towered over the girl. "I know I am. Now leave."

Ashley scurried off, leaving Y/N and Regina alone. Y/N went to talk to Regina but was met with her ice queen stare and the blonde storming off and leaving.

What the hell?

The next day, Y/N was met with the cold shoulder. No kisses, hugs, affection of any sort. She was confused as to why so she went to the only person that would know.

Gretchen.

"She's mad at you."

Y/N sighed in frustration. "Yes, Gretchen. I'm aware. Can you tell me why? Instead of pointing out the obvious." Karen went to take a sip of her drink and Gretchen stopped it from going up her nose. "What were you doing all week? With who?"

Realization hit Y/N like a brick. Oh.

She had some groveling to do.

Regina was awoken from her daily after school nap to soft kisses being planted on her cheek and neck. She smiled softly.

"So you came to grovel, hmm?"

Y/N smiled softly against her neck. "Yeah, mama. I'm sorry for the past week. I was so focused on getting the tutoring done that I didn't even realize that I was neglecting you. I'm so sorry."

Regina turned over in Y/N's arms. "I forgive you, but don't let it happen again. Especially with that wannabe." Y/N smiled. "Wannabe?" Regina scoffed. "Like you didn't notice her trying to be me.

Y/N shook her head. "No?" Regina looked at her girlfriend incredulously. "She totally was. She copied my style, my hair, my mannerisms...you really didn't notice?" Y/N shook her head.

"There's only one Regina George and it's you. That's who I pay attention to."

And when Y/N came in Monday morning looking like a lovesick idiot walking with Regina, Ashley knew she lost.

[kanmom51]

I didn't know this

*p.s. - She was his gf then and his wife now, why the need to say "his first girlfriend"? First gf we knew about more like it.

OK, so here's the thing... those are JK's eyes, sue me. And the timing of that billboard falling and the keep going..

I have a draft way back from July, me talking about JM's Who MV shoot sketch. I started writing it and found that I couldn't complete it. And now with this - I didn't know this little ever so important piece of information - maybe I can talk about it a little more (bring up some of the things I was thinking about back then).

Basically a few things stood out to me while watching the BTB.

JM being JM as usual. Beautiful, talented, shrewd.

It's quite obvious that JM is involved in the direction of the MV (we were saying...), and this is one thing that stood out to me:

3 things stood out to me. First was his use of the word people. "...people walk past me...". The second was "for now", as in the MV's "for now". And third was "that's what I'm trying to show". So yes, this was part of JM's vision. The song's meaning chasing that muse, but also the song's MV, which is more about finding that "someone", that "who" in a more understandable language to us, being romantic love.

Song is about the intangible, MV is about corporeal, if you wish.

Watching this had me also go back to the MV itself and notice a few more things I didn't notice first times around, and with that new piece of information about Taeyung and his then girlfriend now wife, and knowing just how huge ENL was back in the day and JM's close friendship now days with Taeyung, well, it just fits so so well.

Just bringing this back for a sec before moving on:

Back to Who MV and me trying to connect some of the dots.

The scene JM is talking about, with the people, men and women, passing him by and none of them are the person he is looking for, it comes right after this:

NO QUESTION MARK ON THERE!!!

I also noticed that before this screen falls JM's interactions, the 'people' passing him by are only women, where as after the screen falls and tells him to keep going, well, then it's not only women passing him by. Now he's not limiting himself only to finding "her"? Maybe now he's looking for "him" too? Maybe "him" is the "who" he's looking for and not "her"?

But we know that the billboard has a specific "him" on it. And even though the hers and hims are crossing his path, at this point he isn't interacting with them, they aren't the who he's looking for.

Another interesting thing I found was that when it comes to those one on one's they are only with women. We have them before the screen falling, and after it fell and he is walking down the street people walking him by, even then, the only ones he interacts with are women. But as he is doing that, this appears on the screen as well:

This is also right after the huge screen falls from the sky. Is this again someone or something telling him to go back, rewind, that the screen he just walked away from has the answer he's looking for?

That he missed something, or someone...

And we know NOTHING is a coincidence when it comes to these two, especially in their artistic decisions.

This either:

We weren't sure at the time what it all meant.

What was JM hinting to?

What were the editors of AYS hinting to?

I know not everything about their art is about them as a couple. I've said that multiple times. Not every song is about one or the other or them and their love for each other. Not at all.

But...

That doesn't mean we should ALWAYS dismiss the possibility that it may just be about them. That some of their lyrics do have to do with each other, that some of their songs (even if they did not write the lyrics themselves) do have representation of their relationship in them, that some of their artistic decisions are about them showing their true selves and their love for each other.

We have seen songs that we just KNOW are written for the other, about the other, about their love for each other, about a moment they shared with one another, about what the other means to them. And sometimes when the song isn't there are things surrounding them that are. It can be photoshoot concepts or hints within their artistry that pay homage to the other, or that they are agreed upon hints to what they mean to each other. We have seen this with both of them during their solo journey as well.

And now with this new piece of information, which I was not aware of, coming to light I'm thinking that this isn't about a collab or a song (although I would love for there to be a Jikook song). I'm thinking that our first knee jerk reaction to this could have been the right one. That this was all about the Who. That the eyes on that screen, the one JM doesn't get to see in the MV, those are the eyes of his "Who". In the MV, but more so, you know, in real life.

*Another p.s. - I know I've been silent since the last AYS episode has dropped. It's been a hectic week, but more so it's been hard for me to even try and put into words how I felt coming out (pun most definitley intended) on the other side of this episode. I am working on my post at the moment. The words are not coming easy, I can tell you that much. But it will come. Eventually.💜💜

[gojoidyll]

"Look, Satoru! It's snowing!!!"

"Hey, hey, be careful! Grab onto my arm! I don't want you to fall!"

Your youngest watched another video. It was recorded late December after their dad's birthday. You were pregnant and their dad was panicking because he was afraid you were going to fall.

"That's one of my favorites."

Your oldest said looking over the others shoulder. Your oldest, Ichiro, grabbed onto his younger brother's free hand.

Jiro made no move to acknowledge his older brother as he continued to look at their father's phone. He scrolled to another video, making Ichiro heave a sigh before tugging him along.

"You made it."

Shoko was waiting for them at the entrance of Jujutsu High. A smoke resting between her lips as she gave them both a small smile.

"Yeah, sorry for the wait."

Shoko told him not to worry about it as she held out two letter for them.

"What are...?"

"Letters, from your father."

"And our mother?"

"She didn't write any. She... didn't think she would die, I guess. Or something like that. I'm not really sure. Though, what mother thinks that she'll leave her kids behind?"

"I understand."

Ichiro looked down at the letters that were handed to him. Both were from their father just as Shoko had said.

So, did that mean that their father knew he wasn't going to make it?

Ichiro slipped the letters into his back pocket, "we'll read them later. Anyway, where is Megumi and the others?"

"You should find them talking to each other in the main building."

Ichiro nodded as Jiro played another video.

"Thank you. See you around, Shoko. Come on, brother."

Your oldest didn't know how to get his younger brother to move forward. So maybe Megumi could help?

[enmi-land]

✶ DRUNK IN LOVE

𝓘.──── . . . 𝒷𝖺𝖻𝗒, 𝗂 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎

💭 엔하HYUNGLiNEXFEM!OC ꗃSCENARiO. hyung line being needy after their first time with mila. ( 2022 ) 𓈃 REQUESTED. 𝅄CONTAiNS. smut, swearing, jealousy & possessiveness, pet names, unedited !MDNi! ꒰ NOTES ✦ Just letting you guys know that smut isn’t my forte so umm yeah. No further comment.

SMUT WARNiNGS ⋆ implied unprotected sex (zon’t zo it), mentioned loss of virginity, implied oral (m & f receiving), tit sucking, cockwarming, corruption kink, slight somnophilia, masturbation . . .

GO BACK HOME ?!

IF THERE IS ONE THING MILA IS NOT, it’s innocent. No matter how many people she may fool with her doe eyes and pouty lips, those coy smiles and that sweet face, she is not nearly as pure as they think. She’s equal parts devil and angel—and every part of their fantasies.

When Mila first initiates intimacy with her boyfriends, she’s a virgin in every sense of the word: unkissed, untouched, and wholly inexperienced in everything that lovers do when they’re alone.

Jay is proud to say that he was the same way. It wasn’t something to be embarrassed about, but rather something he took pride in—that every one of her firsts was also one of his, that they were experiencing things together, with neither one ahead or behind. And yes, even though he is a gentlemen, he is still a man.

It’s why he can’t help the way his eyes travel down her body when she’s not looking, as if he’s in a trance. She’s not doing anything in particular, but he still can’t take her eyes away from her.

Mila is wearing a white dress, he notes, like the one she wore when they first had sex together. No, it is the same one. There’s no way he can mistake it. It’s a cute thing, really, the way it cinches at the waist and flares around the plush skin of her thighs; the way the material of the top clings to her bosom, moulding against her mounds perfectly and revealing just the slightest bit of cleavage.

At least, it should be cute. But all he can think about in that moment is how they first ended up in bed together, and the things that led to it.

He remembers the way he had just left the shower, water dripping down his torso and to the towel wrapped loosely around his waist, when the doorbell of his hotel room rang. He had opened it to see her standing there, her soft, cherry-pink lips parted softly at the sight of his half-naked state.

It was hardly the first time she had seen him without a shirt, but this time, it was different. She had always been shy with showing appreciation for his figure, and had the cutest habit of looking away shyly buying her lip. But that time he noticed the way her eyes drifted down his body, pupils dilated i with desire as she drank every feature of him in with her pretty eyes.

It filled him with pride to see Mila that way, knowing he was the cause of it. But, fuck, he was no better when he found himself growing hard when the little (devious) angel of his had pressed her soft curves against his still wet body, transferring the droplets of water onto that adorable little dress of hers that clung to her body, more transparent than white, and leaving little to the imagination.

“You’re getting wet,” he had said to her, gulping down his growing desire to kiss her senseless as she looked up with those doe eyes of her. He fully intended on being the rational one of the two of them, and to make sure they both attended that reservation he booked at the fancy new restaurant down the road.

But all of that flew out the window when she oh so innocently said, “I don’t mind you getting me wet,” her fingers trailing down his abs.

Fuck, why did he have to remember that now? Hems supposed to be paying attention to her as she talks to him about something that happened earlier today, when she was out with friends. But god, if he wasn’t going crazy as he remembered their night together.

He vividly remembers everything about it. The way he had fallen for her allure and carried her to his room, still dressed only in the hotel towel, before laying her on the bed, watching her hair sprawl around her head like a halo. He remembers the way his hands travelled up her skirt and to the skin of her waist, bunching her dress up to reveal a lack of safety shorts, and a pair of white lace panties. It felt almost sinful to slide her panties down her thighs, marvelling at how soaked they became without even touching her.

“Fuck, angel, you were going to go out like this?” He asked. “All it would take is one gust of wind and they would know that you were dipping. Is that what you want Engenes to know?”

“They wouldn’t,” Mila whined.

“They would,” Jay pressed firmly, sinking to his knees at the edge of the bed. “They would see just how wet you are for me.”

It wasn’t the first time he found himself kneeling before her, but every time he saw the glistening folds of her pussy as he peeled the sticky layer of her panties away from it, he was in awe. And one lick up the strip of her folds would have him groaning, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the taste of her on his tongue.

Great. Now he’s getting a hard-on.

“Oppa, are you paying attention?” Mila turns to face Jay at that very moment, but he is even quicker, pulling her down to his lap as she squeals in surprise. “Oppa?! What’s—?”

Mila’s eyes widen as her ass is planted on his lap, where she can feel the prominent bulge in his pants. Her breathe hitches in he throat, while Jay’s lips plant themselves on her neck. A hand travels to her thigh, and his thumb rubs soothing circles on her creamy soft skin. “Sorry, angel,” he whispers huskily, “but I don’t think I can concentrate right now.”

“Oh,” is all Mila can manage to say. She can feel her thighs clench together as he kisses the column of her neck. She squirms in his lap, grinding against his hard length, earning a deep groan from her lover. The sound that goes straight to her pussy, and immediately the tell tale signs of arousal making make itself known.

“I promise I’ll listen to your story,” Jay says. “But do you think you can do me a favour first?”

Mila is putty in his hands as his rough palm glides up the skirt of her dress in a familiar manner. “Anything,” she whimpers pathetically.

Jay chuckles. “Good girl,” he purrs. Mila whines as his hands find their way to her hips, and he grinds her ass back on his length, causing her to moan for the friction against her pulsating pussy. “I just need you to keep moving your cute ass like this, okay? And you can tell me all about your day while you’re at it.”

If she can talk, that is. Jay has a feeling neither of them will be able to.

SUNGHOON WAKES UP TO AN EMPTY BED, and immediately is on alert. He jolts up, the sheets falling to his still naked lap, and his eyes dart around to find no trace of his girlfriend anywhere. He slept like a baby after last night, and had been expected her to do the same when he woke up, considering they spent most of it doing anything other than sleeping.

Fuck. The images come flooding back like a memory from a night of drinking—only much more pleasurable, and a thousand times more intense. He still remembers them the way Mila was writhing under him, moaning and whimpering his name as he thrusted into her, their hands entwined up her head.

He can picture the way her skin glistened under the light with sweat, her features contorted into pleasure as she changed his name over and over again like a prayer. Pleading, begging for him to give her release she was chasing as her hips rolled up to meet his, driving his cock deeper into her walls, and egging him on to go faster than before.

His first time with her is simultaneously everything he imagined, and yet better. His dirtiest fantasies would never do justice to the pure pleasure and bliss of reaching his high while inside her, and feeling the way she clenched around him as she reached her own. He had already been helpless for her, but going all the way has been the final nail in the coffin, securing his unending fixation with everything that is her. As if she’s the sun his whole world revolves around.

The only thing that could have made it better is if they woke up the same way. Sunghoon grumbles as he scrambles for his pants, which lay forgotten in the corner of the room, lazily running a hand through his hair after buttoning it up.

He spots a pair of panties and a bra on the way out and smiles to himself as he remembers how they ended up there. It was a petty argument that led to it all, surprisingly enough. He can barely remember it after last night, which proves how petty it was (or just how whipped he is), and was a misunderstanding that could easily be resolved if they just stoned being stubborn.

But everyone has their flaws.

Mila had been upset to find that Sunghoon had been approached by someone who didn’t know he was an idol, and certainly didn’t know he was taken. They aren’t in South Korea, seeing as they’re in the middle of a tour, so it’s an easy mistake to make. Except, Sunghoon—with his minimal English—didn’t recognise that the woman was “flirting” with him, and that by outsider’s point of view, he seemed to be receptive.

Mila promptly shut down the woman’s attempts and then walked off without sparing Sunghoon a glance. A petty move, honestly, but expected from her. Sunghoon chased her down until he cornered her in their hotel room, where he had kissed her senseless after realising the reason for her attitude.

“I don’t like the way she was look at you,” she mumbled. And Sunghoon felt a surge of possessive pride in knowing she had gotten so territorial over her. Except, he didn’t appreciate the cold shoulder.

“How cute,” he growled, as he harshly attached his mouth to her neck with hot open-mouthed kisses, fangs scraping harshly against her skin. His long fingers weaved their way into her hair, tugging on the roots to expose her flesh to him like an animal snapping his prey’s neck with his teeth. “I should spank you for being such a brat.”

He didn’t know where the words came from. Actually, that’s a lie—they most likely came from the porn he watched to prepare him for when he eventually had his first time with Mila. And it worked like a charm, because Mila was whining and whimpering in his hold, her knees weak and her cunt absolutely dripping with arousal.

“I’m sorry, Oppa,” she mewled pathetically.

“Sorry won’t cut it,” he growled. “Get on your knees. You’re going to suck me off until I forgive you.”

And Mila had been such a good girl, doing exactly as he said, taking his cock as he pushed her head down onto his length until he came in her mouth. But that hadn’t been enough, and he had her grinding against his thigh until she was begging for something more. For all of him, for everything he had to give her.

“Are you sure?” Sunghoon had asked, finally giving into his gentle instincts.

“Please,” she begged—and oh was she adorable when she did so, cuddling to his chest. “Please, Oppa, I need you inside me.”

He almost wished he had a tape so he could rewatch the scenes all over again.

Sunghoon sighs as he opens the door to reveal the smell of food wafting in the air, followed by the sight of Mila on the kitchen, humming as she cooked an egg on the frying pan—wearing his shirt and, apparently, nothing underneath.

The light of the morning rays are forgiving. They grant him the perfect view of her curves hiding beneath the material of his white tee, and he wonders if he will be able to see the canvas of marks he left her skin the night before. If his fingerprints and love bites are even more visible now than when he was dragging his lips and hands against every inch of her body last night.

He bites his lips as he approaches her from behind, stealthy and silent, like a predator in the wild, hunting down its prey. She doesn’t notice him until he’s wrapping his arms around her, caging her agains the kitchen bench top as she removes the frying pan from the heated stove.

“Oppa!” She spins around to face him with that look of pure adoration in her eyes that never fails to make him melt on the inside. “You’re up! Are you hungry?”

Sunghoon hums, resting his cheek against hers. Truth be told, he’s starving—but he doesn’t want to let go of her so soon, wanting to feel her as close to him as possible. Now that he knows what it feels like to be inches inside her, he wants to be nothing but their skin against each other and to hold her soft body against his firm one.

“You left bed,” he says, with a small hint of a pout on his lips. He would die before the others see him this clingy, but Mila finds it adorable and plants a soft peck on his cheek.

“Sorry,” she says, “but someone had to make food, and you were out like a light.” She then giggles to herself, earning a raised eyebrow from Sunghoon. “I guess I tired you out.”

Oh, really? So that’s how she wants to frame it? Sunghoon chuckles deeply. He turns Mila around so that they’re facing each other, before completely cornering her against the bench top, his hands on both her hips and his head leaning down against hers.

“That’s funny,” he starts.

His eyes look down the front of Mila’s (or rather, his) shirt, to see her hardened nipples straining against the fabric—and, fuck, he can’t be distracted now. Not even when he knows that underneath that shirt of hers (his), her plump mounds are begging to be held in his palms. But she doesn’t seem to be fairing any better, her eyes travelling down his bare torso, and his tongue flicking against her lips.

She’s just as affected as he is. And he loves it.

“If I remember correctly,” Sunghoon teases, “you were the one who kept begging me that you couldn’t take it anymore, isn’t that right, princess?”

Mila has a pretty flush on her face, and it reminds him of the absolutely fucked look on her face as he fucked her last night. She pouts up at him, tempting him with her plump lips. He can’t help it. Everything about her is irresistible to him; everything about her has him obsessed.

“You’re mean,” she whines. And, oh, if the sound doesn’t make his cock twitch him his pants.

Sunghoon simply catches her lips between his, suckling on her pout. She whimpers against his mouth—such a sweet, sweet sound—and he nibbles on the flesh, before his tongue flicks out to lick it clean. “Don’t start what you can’t finish.”

At this Mila giggles again. “You mean like you finished last night?”

Sunghoon groans. But, yeah, he walked into that one. He digs his fingers into her side, causing her to squirm as he tickles her gently. “Now who’s the one being mean?”

“Stooooop—eep!” Mila jumps as he slaps her ass, her tits bouncing before they are pressed against him when she clutches his frame for support. “Oppa!”

Sunghoon doesn’t say anything this time, instead placing another kiss on her lips. She melts into him, chasing his mouth with her own, fingers locked in his hair. His hands pat her waist softly, before travelling to the hem of the shirt she’s wearing, pulling it up softly. It gives her more than enough time to pull away, but she doesn’t.

His hands travel up the material to grip her thighs before lifting her up in one smooth hoist, balancing her thighs around his hips.

“Fuck breakfast,” Sunghoon growls. And Mila seems to agree.

JAKE CAN’T HELP BUT FEEL GUILTY. He’s acting like a teenaged boy whenever he’s around his girlfriend, and every little thing she does turns him on to the point that he has to jerk off himself quietly under the sheets of his bed. Not even porn can make him lose it so quickly—not after he’s gotten a taste of what it’s like for him to be the one instead.

It’s only worse because Mila wants nothing more than to innocently cuddle on her bed and watch movies, and yet he’s sporting an embarrassingly uncomfortable hard-on under their blanket.

He can’t help it. She’s wearing a pair of short satin shorts and a matching camisole that does nothing to take his attention away from her tits (she’s definitely not wearing a bra), and the curve of her ass. It’s only worse when she’s pressed right against his side, leg hooked over his stomach as she clings to him.

The last time they were alone like this in a dark room, he ended up losing it while she was she riding him, the move nothing but a backdrop to their passionate love-making that ended up on the the of them being complete messes of bodily fluids.

He had always imagined that his first time with Mila would he romantic, with gentle touches and soft loving. It wasn’t like that at all. But if you asked Jake, if was far better. It was messy, it was desperate, it was a jumble of rushed undressing and the pure need.

It was Jake not being able to make a coherent sentence as Mila straddled his lap, before sinking down onto his cock, her warmth eveloping his length with a vice grip. It was him gripping her hips until they bruised, head thrown back as she bounced on his lap with unforgiving rhythm. It was Jake losing all senses as she clenched around him upon her impending orgasm, writing him dry until he couldn’t even keep his eyes open for more than five minutes after they were done.

“Jakey, are you okay?” Mila asks sweetly, eyes gazing at him wide and unblinking. And while Jake appreciates the sentiment, all he can think about is the way her eyes look the exact same as whenever she’s kneeling in front today him, taking his cock in her mouth as she bobs her head down his length.

Shit. His pants are uncomfortably tight now, and it’s all because he can’t get a fucking grip. He never used t be this easily hot and bothered before—why did it have to start now!

“I-I’m good,” he assures—albeit weakly.

Mila doesn’t look convinced and shifts (Fuck, he wants to scream, please don’t move!), her breast pressing further against Jay, and her thigh brushing dangerously close to his prominent bulge. She pouts, and places a hand on Jake’s forehead. “Are you sick? You don’t look too good.”

At this rate, she’s definitely going to know he’s sporting a boner—and damn it, if that isn’t embarrassing after the way their first night went together.

“Awww, you’re so cute,” Mila had cooed as Jake became a whining mess under her. “So sensitive. Don’t worry, baby, I’ll take care of you.”

As if he hasn’t been the one who wanted to take care of her instead. But seeing as she had already slept with Jay and Sunghoon, Mila has an advantage over him, and was able to keep her calm a bit more easily. She didn’t even get to cun until after he did, and he still hadn’t gotten over it.

But at the time he was too lost in everything that was her. It was too much. She was too much. He didn’t even realise how they had gotten to that point. All he knew was that she looked absolutely divine wearing his shirt and no bra (just like now), and he had gotten lost in feeling her up, his lips attached to hers as if she were all the oxygen he needed to breathe.

His hands had peeled the shirt off from her, before lips found themselves down the valley of her breast, his finger rolling an erected nipple in one hand while his mouth latched to the other. His tongue swirled around the bud, and Mila had arched off the mattress, hands digging into his hair as he played with her breast, and suckled like a baby.

“God, Jakey, your mouth feels so good~” she had whined. And of course, he had to use it properly, or he wouldn’t forgive himself. He had kissed his way down to the hand of her pants, and then her panties. He tore them from her and left her bare, legs open and thighs on either side of his his head.

It was a routine he grew all too familiar with. He had fucked his tongue into her right hole—in and out again—while she clenched around him, her thighs threatening to crush his head as he ate her cunt like a starved man, right until she was cumming all over his tongue.

“Good boy,” she said. For some reason, that had been enough to make him lose all sense of himself. And before he knew it, she was taking his length in her hand as he moaned, begging and begging for her to take him inside her—to let him feel her warm cunt around his cock.

And now really didn’t the time to remember that.

“I’m fine, baby—aahh~” Jake can’t help the sound thay escapes when Mila is sitting up, her thigh rubbing against his hard-on in the process. “Fuck, baby, what was that for?”

“Sorry,” Mila squeaks. “I didn’t… I didn’t know…”

She looks so cute embarrassed, Jake thinks, as if she’s in the definition of a siren in bed—or at least, when they were in bed. Now she looks just like a startled little animal. Absolutely adorable.

“Jakey, do you want help?” Mila asks shyly, her hand reaching down to his pants. “I can—”

Jake grabs her wrist before she can go ahead, causing her to pause. “No, no—let me do you first.”

Before Mila can protest, Jake flips them over so she’s beneath her, eyes looking up at him with a mixture of surprise and arousal. He’s lost all sense of control now that he’s been caught, and he would be more ashamed if it weren’t for the fact that Mila is whispering his name with a desperate note.

“Please baby,” he begs, his lips leaning down to capture his. He groans against her lips as he sinks between her parted legs, her hips slotting against his perfectly. He grinds against her, practically jackrabbiting against her covered cunt. She moans helplessly against his assault, meeting his enthusiasm work her own. His senses now overridden by her and the feeling of her against him. “Fuck! Please, I need to see you cum for me before you do anything else.”

He’s not just desperate. He’s just desperate for her pleasure as he is for his own.

HEESEUNG STIRS IN THE DARK. It’s still too earthly to be up, if the lack of light filtering through the curtains is an indication, but he can’t help it. He feels his girlfriend before he sees her—feels the way she’s clenching around his length in her sleep, whimpering and moaning like she had been a few hours ago, before they feel asleep with her warming his cock for him.

It might not have been a good idea to do so, Heeseung admits. But he’d be a liar if he didn’t say he was too obsessed with the feel of Mila around his cock, enough that he couldn’t even bare to pull out of her when they were finished last night. It was a long night, which he made sure to draw out, and even now he feels it’s not enough.

Mila had been so innocent when they started dating. His little angel hadn’t even kissed a man before, let alone wrapped around a man’s cock like she was now. He, on the other hand, was a little less pure—he had at least done more than her, at any rate.

His previous girlfriend had been an older one, and taught him the ways to pleasure a woman—something he was no grateful for, since it meant he could do the same for his baby, make her feel good until she was so fucked out in bliss she couldn’t speak. And he savoured taking her there step by step.

He got her used to his fingers, then his tongue, and now he was dead set on making her addicted to the feeling of his cock. Last night had only been the first step.

She had been so adorable, pouting as he refused to pay attention to her—playing hard to get as he focused on his game instead of her precious face. It wasn’t easy to do, but it was well worth it when she found herself boldly straddling his lap, acting like a little kitten trying to win affection. Her soft lips kissed their way up his Adam’s apple, teeth grazing it slightly—just the way he liked it.

He couldn’t resist giving into her, lips teasing hers and hands on her hips as he moved them back and forth against his clothed length. But then she was audacious and wanted more, pawing at his clothes in clumsy attempt to take them off which had him chuckling fondly to himself.

He remembers the way she had whined as he positioned himself at her entrance, teasing her slightly, before pushing all the way in, his impressive length reaching a depth his fingers never could. He watched as she became a mess beneath him, crying out his name in ecstasy as his hips rolled in steady motion, hitting that spot that had her seeing stars.

“How’s that?” He whispered.

“Feels so good~” she moaned. “So full…”

“Yeah? You can feel me right in here, can’t you?” He pressed down once abdomen, feeling the way he filled her up inside.

As the oldest and most experienced member, it was only right that he was last—or he will ruin any other man for her. She already seemed ruined enough though when she accepted his request to stay inside her.

“Let’s stay like this, okay?” He asked. “You feel too good to pull out.”

“Mkay,” she said obediently.

“Such a good girl for me,” he cooed, “keeping me warm.”

And she had babbled incoherently before falling asleep on his cock, and he had rolled over so she lay on top of him, breasts pressed against his chest, and their breaths exhaling and inhaling in unison. He had been having such a peaceful sleep, too, until she started to shift on her length, causing him to harden inside her with all her movement.

He was so lost in her that he even dreamt of them together like this, and caught himself moving his hips on his sleep. And, fuck, if that weren’t enough to make him fun on the spot, Mila had been feeling it all even as she slept. And now, he has to wake her up. It’s depraved, he knows, but now he has finally felt her around him, and it’s going to drive him insane if he doesn’t get his fill again.

He needs to fuck her, and see her expression twist with pleasure like it did before. Romantic, no. But he’s absolutely whipped, seeing her ruined beyond repair for his cock.

“Baby,” he groans into her ear, rubbing her back. “Baby, wake up.”

Mila stirs. “Oppa?”

Heeseung hums. “Shhh, I got you,” he says as he flips them over, so that he’s on top. “I’m sorry but I need to borrow your pretty little pussy for a bit, okay?”

Mila groans as she rubs her eyes. “Now?” She clenches around him, and Heeseung groans.

“Yeah, now. Is that okay, my love?” Heeseung pressed, wanting nothing more than to hear her permission. “I just need to fuck your pretty cunt again and you can go back to sleep, okay? It will be just like before.”

Mila moans, her walls pulsating around him. “Can you stay inside again?”

Fuck. Heeseung’s cock twitches inside Mila, and he thanks heaven that he’s been given such a perfect girlfriend.

“Of course. Anything for my sweet girl,” Heeseung coos, peppering her face with kisses as he slips out of her, before getting ready to thrust into her again. “I’ll make you feel good I promise. And we can cuddle again like before.”

He’d do it again and again and never stop if he could.

© ENMI-LAND, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, REPOST.

[the-thing-withfeathers]

exceeded caution: part 1

she would have chosen the devil

series masterlist | next part

summary: when your relationship with the younger carpenter sister fails, what happens when thoughts of her older sister start to take over your mind? 4.1k words pairing: tara carpenter x f!reader into sam carpenter x f!reader warnings: toxic relationship, cursing, fighting, alcohol consumption, drug consumption, frankie mentioned, out of character tara.

a/n: this is actually such a bad first chapter because its mostly set up but i promise the next chapters are so much better. but ily carpenter sisters mwah mwah.

•*¨*•.¸¸♪

couples fight, right?

that’s how they show they care, right?

that’s what you were always taught when talking about relationships.

you and tara had started off as friends with benefits. you met early in freshman year and the attraction was instant.

when you started to meet her friends, you quickly learned about their experience in woodsboro. you had known about the notorious killer but you never thought you would find yourself amongst the people associated with the incident.

as time went on, you decided to shoot your shot with her. your feelings became deeper than the desire to satisfy each other in bed.

you asked her out on a proper date after chasing her halfway across campus. you were sweaty and panting but when she delivered a kiss to her cheek with a "yes, i would love to", you knew it was worth it.

after a few dates, you learned that tara had a fear of getting close to people. she told you about amber and how she'd developed issues with commitment after that disastrous relationship.

so when you and tara started fighting at a higher frequency, you thought it was just because you didn’t want to lose each other.

you chalked it up to the perpetual state of stress she was in due to her sister being overprotective and not letting her go out as often as she used to.

then you started noticing the cracks in your theory when tara started fighting with you over the smallest thing. your jacket didn’t match her skirt, you chewed a little too loud, you handed her the wrong coffee order.

you did your best to calm the girl when she was in her angered state, your efforts proved to be futile when she would just kick you out of her room and you’d have to do the walk of shame out of her apartment.

only to make things worse, you usually bumped into sam on the way out. you knew your girlfriend’s older sister was overprotective of her and you were worried about what she thought of you.

sam often watched you leave from the kitchen, shooting you a look that you couldn’t decipher.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

"there's a party tonight for halloween, we should all go." mindy proposed to the group. it was a frat party, and you hated frat parties.

"we should!" your girlfriend, tara, exclaimed.

"is sam even going to let you out of the house?" chad asked, chuckling softly at tara's excitement.

"uhh... that's an issue for later." she said, looking away. you saw the gears turning in her head.

"you're not gonna tell her, are you?" you asked her, you knew her all too well. she turned to you with a small glare on her face.

"and what of it?" she said, snapping a bit. you seem to have taken her out of deep thought. you should have known that would be her response.

whenever a sore subject would come up, you tried not to bother her too much about it. you should have held your tongue, knowing you were talking about one of the sorest subjects— her sister. you frowned at her.

"i was just trying to tease, tara." you clarified. "it's okay, i won't judge you for it. i know sam's been overprotective recently."

tara seemed to back down from her anger when you said that. she just turned back to her phone as you turned back to your uneaten lunch.

you agreed to the party under the impression that it might be good for you and tara. it might be nice for her to get out of the house for once and spend time just being a young adult.

"i'll go as a cowboy." chad chimed into the conversation again. you had no idea what you were going to put together at the last minute.

"i'll throw together a pirate outfit." tara shrugged her shoulders, thinking back to her own closet.

"maybe i could be the parrot on your shoulder." you joked at her, she rolled her eyes at you with a small smile on her face.

"please don't." she laughed softly. you loved her laugh so much, and you loved being the reason for it. you’ve grown to cherish those little slivers of happiness between the two of you.

“okay.” you retreated your statement. “i’ll go as an angel.” you grinned. you had a dress waiting for you back home and some spare angel wings you used for a previous costume party.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

you were on your third drink of the night and had your arms around chad and ethan, singing the lyrics to sweet caroline. you three were swaying together on the dance floor.

mindy and anika looked over you three and rolled their eyes. it’s like they were meant to be.

you realised that your girlfriend was nowhere to be seen, that was concerning. she’d usually be joining you three in your antics.

you turned around to see her at the drinks table, talking to a taller man in a white shirt. you recognized him from somewhere but you weren’t entirely sure.

you opted to trust tara instead of the sinking gut feeling you had. she tended to get angry at you when you acted impulsively, you wanted to avoid that tonight.

you stepped away from the boys and made your way over to mindy and anika. you put your arm around mindy, you both had a great relationship— it was like you were her non-sibling twin flame.

"hey spoilsport. you suggested coming! why are you hiding all the way out here?" you asked her, leaning your head on her shoulder. you spotted a smile creep up her cheeks.

"because someone has to make sure all of you get home safe and sound." she poked your nose and you pulled your head back reflexively.

"that shouldn't stop you from having some fun with us too." you prodded more, trying to get her to loosen up.

however, mindy's point proved itself when you heard commotion come from the stairway. you turned your heads to see chad and tara along with the man in the white shirt by the staircase.

"holy fuck, is that frankie?" mindy asked.

it was like a jolt had electrified your entire body.

frankie.

you should have listened to that gut feeling. it got worse as you spotted tara by his side, his hand wrapped around her wrist.

you felt a fire rage in your belly and an overwhelming concern for tara. you made your way over only to already hear chad telling him off.

"what's going on?" you asked as you approached, standing shoulder to shoulder with chad.

“none of your business.” tara spat out at you, you looked at her with worried eyes. you never provoked her when she was like this but you realised the gut feeling not only applied to frankie but also tara.

“chad.” you called the boy’s name out, indicating that you wanted an explanation.

“frankie was trying to take tara upstairs for god knows what.” chad glared at the man a couple of steps above him.

your jaw clenched and fury filled your pupils.

“she wanted it, dude.” frankie shot back, “she asked me to.”

you looked over at tara only to see that she wasn’t looking at you, she was looking down at the accumulating crowd.

“tara, surely not.” you said, almost pleading. it was a contrast to your angry stare.

she didn’t respond.

she didn’t say a word.

“bro, shut up. she’s drunk and she isn’t thinking straight.” chad fought back at frankie. you snapped out of your thoughts and looked over at the two men.

“he’s right. she isn’t capable of making decisions. you have no right.” you said.

“whatever.” frankie rolled his eyes and pulled tara up the stairs, causing the shorter girl to tumble.

chad snapped and grabbed frankie by the shirt, throwing him down the stairs. you immediately went to check on tara.

“hey, love. let’s get you up. are you okay?” you asked her but you were simply met with silence and her trying to yank her arm away from your touch. she helped herself up but not without struggling.

you watched the altercation between chad and frankie go down, the two boys shoving each other back and forth.

you looked over at tara. you had almost forgotten the look on her face when you asked her if she was really wanting to go upstairs with frankie. she was inebriated, she wasn’t thinking clearly. she didn’t mean it— you could tell yourself that all you want but tara was never one to hide her emotions— especially if it was annoyance.

your thoughts were cut short when you saw sam carpenter walk straight in to the party.

fuck.

you couldn’t zone in enough to hear their conversation from the stairs, but your eyes did enough when they saw sam tase frankie’s balls.

you almost laughed at the sight of the man falling to the floor, but you knew you had to do something.

you stepped in suddenly, holding the older carpenter’s shoulders.

“let’s go. we don’t need any more trouble.” you thought you would be met with a scolding but sam simply nodded at you. she walked over to tara and helped her down the stairs, practically dragging her out of the party.

“sam, let me go!” your girlfriend protested. you followed behind the sisters along with chad, ethan, anika, and mindy.

tara managed to break herself free from sam’s grasp when you were all outside on the street. you stopped in your tracks and it landed you beside sam.

“tara, really?!” sam yelled at her sister, “sneaking out?! i had to find out from quinn that you were here. what if something happened to you?!”

“nothing was gonna happen, sam!” tara rubbed the inner corners of her eyes, trying to wrap her head around the situation.

“really?! cause i don’t think that guy was gonna let you go easy!” sam gestured back to the house. “and what were you thinking?! you have a girlfriend.”

“oh please, she won’t care.” tara scoffed. you were standing right there, but it was like she looked straight through you. how could she say that about you?

“right.” sam stopped her before she could say anything else. “i’m taking you home.” she said. she turned around to you, making eye contact. your breath hitched in your throat. “and you too. c’mon.”

you had to oblige, you weren’t going to fight against an angry sam.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

the car ride was more eerie than silent.

despite the looming quiet, you looked over at tara in the rearview. she was staring outside the window in the backseat while you sat in the front. sam had forced her into the back, saying she didn’t wanna get thrown up on.

you looked over at sam, her eyebrows furrowed as she drove you both back. you wondered what was happening in that head of hers. she had been through a lot too. her protective nature was a product of everything that had happened in woodsboro, you found your concern growing for her too.

you helped tara up to the apartment with sam. at one point, you gave up and decided to princess carry her. she protested at first but realised she had no other choice.

you put tara down on her bed, taking off the bandana that covered her hair. you went into her closet to grab some clothes for her, kneeling down about to help her.

she suddenly turned away from you.

“tara, please. let’s not fight.” you pleaded with her, wanting to get her comfortable more than anything.

“fighting is the only reason i stay with you.” she mumbled.

“what?” you looked up at her from your kneeling position, trying to help her take her shoes off.

“you’re so nice all the time.” she glares at you. “you’re too different from her.”

oh, her. you knew.

“but i like controlling you. it’s almost too easy.” she had a venom-laced tongue tonight, the alcohol allowing the toxin to seep through your skin. “but i feel absolutely nothing for you.”

you finally knew the reason for your fighting.

“i almost even hate you sometimes though.” she admitted. “i only said yes to going out with you cause we were in public. if it was anywhere else, i would have rejected you.”

you were silent, you were stunned.

“i’m too young to settle down too, y’know?” she followed up, it was never-ending. “nothing was gonna happen with frankie. i knew better— he’s disgusting. but you had to end the fun when i was finally allowing myself to realise i had other options.” she scoffed.

her words didn’t make sense to you. she wouldn’t do that, she couldn’t do that. surely she had some heart in her.

you felt disgusted with yourself. you stepped back and had to hold back from saying anything. it was late, they had another roommate who was asleep and sam was waiting for you in the living room to take you home.

when you stepped back, tara rolled into bed, pulling the covers to her chin. you stared at her, tears forming in your eyes from what she said.

you were being used.

and she played you like a fiddle.

you were dressed as an angel, which was ironic.

because tara would rather have the devil.

you had tried to be the best possible person for her. you took everything she’s been to into consideration, always looking after her. but you realised she didn’t want that, she wanted someone else.

you covered your mouth to stiffle sobs that threatened to escape your lips.

you walked out of her room only to nearly come crashing into sam, who was leaning on the wall by the doorway the whole time.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

sam had previously been in the kitchen, preparing a glass of water for tara. she realised you were taking a bit longer than she expected, she figured you fell asleep next to tara.

she knew the nature of your relationship with tara. she had to listen to tara’s entire thought process of saying yes to you asking her out. she even discouraged tara, letting her know that it wasn’t fair to you.

but tara always had a mind of her own.

when she heard soft voices, she decided to come and check on the two of you. she stopped walking and listened in when she heard what you were talking about.

oh, she felt sick.

she felt sick hearing her younger sister say those words to you. she always cherished tara. she missed her sister that wasn’t capable of hurting a fly but quickly let those thoughts go when she acknowledged that the girl that she cared for was gone.

she leaned against the wall and heard your footsteps quickly approach. she didn’t expect you to almost crash into her, her hands flew to your waist, stabilising you.

she hadn’t gotten a good look at you earlier, you were dressed as an angel. a part of her almost smiled at how pretty you looked. sam always thought you were pretty, her eyes weren’t painted on.

“hey…” she said, watching you wipe your tears away. “here, take this.” the water meant for tara quickly changed ownership.

you declined the water, shaking your head and waving it away.

“please. you’ve been crying.” you hated that sam carpenter caught you in this state. you hoped to compose yourself before seeing her again.

“sam, it’s fine. let’s just go, please.” you brushed past her, she quickly turned and followed you out. she grabbed her jacket and her keys before following you downstairs.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

“you didn’t deserve that.” sam broke the silence. you slowly turned to her and just stared, you were still trying to find the words.

“sam…” you started.

“no. it doesn’t matter.” she interjected. “i’m sorry about tara.”

“it’s fine. i can handle it. she's right anyway."

“it’s not. and she isn't."

you felt yourself crawl back into your shell. the order in sam’s voice, like she was a general, made you feel like you couldn’t say a word.

“you deserve better than her." she suddenly turned to look at you, her glare wasn't like tara's though. hers was more angry at you for saying those things about yourself.

"she's just stressed." you try to justify tara's actions. you still harboured feelings for the girl. it was going to be hard to see it any other way.

"don't try and do that." sam shook her head, pulling up outside your apartment. "you're a grown ass woman, you know better than to try and justify someone hurting you."

you'd never seen that side to sam before. she was always tara's timid older sister, a strong but silent type. you didn't expect to hear her suddenly standing up for you.

"i just need a night, sam." you didn't want to talk about it anymore, it was all too much for you.

"get some rest." she nodded at you while you pulled at the door handle, unlocking it and hopping out. you leaned down and poked your head back into the car.

"thank you for the ride home. i appreciate it. i'll see you soon."

sam nodded at you. "goodnight."

"goodnight, sam."

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

tara thought her eyes were burning in the sunlight. she felt herself wither away as she was hit with a pounding headache.

her throat was dry but as she blinked away the exhaustion, she realised there was a glass of water by her bedside. she practically leapt for it, chugging it all in one go.

she was still in her clothes from last night. she got up to change into something more comfortable and take her make-up off. it was the weekend so she had nowhere to be, deciding to dedicate the free day to recovering from her wicked hangover.

she walked out of her room to see sam making breakfast. she could literally eat anything right now.

sam looked just as exhausted as her.

memories started flooding in from last night, the fight that ensued coming back to her

"jesus sam, no way you actually used a taser on someone last night." tara grumbled as she took her seat on the dining table.

"i absolutely did. and i'm not regretting it." sam retaliated, setting a plate down in front of tara. "eat up. you're gonna need the energy for today."

"why? what's today?" tara asked, already wolfing down the food in front of her.

"do you really not remember anything from last night?" sam asked her, sitting down beside her with her own plate of food.

tara shook her head which led to sam explaining what you two talked about that night.

tara was horrified. she felt so guilty. sure, she knew she didn't lie completely, but she knew you didn't need to hear that.

and it was too late to take it back now.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

five knocks woke you from your own slumber.

you groaned and pushed yourself off the mattress, glitter still coating your eyes from your costume last night. you immediately rolled into bed after changing last night.

you threw the door open, a frustrated look on your face.

tara.

oh, and sam around the corner.

sam shot you a sheepish wave, you waved back at her. you knew the only reason that tara was here was because sam brought her. while you appreciated the gesture, you knew there was only one way this was ending.

"you shouldn't have kept this going for as long as it did!"

you yelled at tara. you two had been going at it for ten minutes now, you were sure the entire apartment complex could hear the two of you. and you knew they could hear your heart breaking.

"what the fuck was i supposed to do?!" tara exclaimed back. "walk up to you and oh hey, i don't actually have any feelings for you?!"

"yes! exactly that." you shot back, scoffing and crossing your arms across your chest. "you should have been honest with me, tara."

"i couldn't. you... you were good for me." tara whispered, her anger subsiding. "you were kind and just what i needed after everything that happened. i thought that maybe i could grow to have feelings for you."

"you shouldn't have taken that chance. you basically lied to me for months." your posture straightened, your jaw tightening. "it wasn't fair."

"i know... i know..." tara said, trying to calm you a bit more. "i'm sorry."

"you know that sorry isn't gonna cut it, right tara?" you huffed, shaking your head at her. "we're done."

she stared at you for a beat, she didn't believe that you ended it. you were so quiet all the time, always kind and happy. you never took the initiative, she thought she would have to do it. to say you surprised her was an understatement.

"i understand." she nodded. "i'll go."

"yeah... you'd better." you weren't going to stop her, she was the last person you wanted to see.

you opened the door for her and saw sam avoiding your eyes around the corner.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

three weeks later, you hadn't seen much of your friends. you decided to be the one to keep your distance, you hadn't even seen mindy all that much.

it wasn't until you heard your phone buzz on a random friday morning that you realised that you were missing your dear friends.

"come over tonight, we're watching a movie." a text from mindy.

"we're?" you responded. you knew that mindy would pick up on what you were putting down.

"yes. tara will be there. but we haven't seen you in ages. i'll put you on seperate ends of the room." she typed quickly.

"okay. what time?" you missed your friends more than anything, it was worth seeing tara if it meant you got to see everyone else too.

"4 plus 3." mindy replied, you chucked your phone to the side and sighed. you had to spend the rest of the day psyching yourself up to face everyone again.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

you arrived at the twin's place at exactly seven sharp.

you walked in and saw that everyone else was already there, surrounding the television.

"bystanders reported seeing the killer with a black cloak and sporting the infamous ghostface mask."

oh no. oh no no no.

you knew all the stories, you'd seen what the killer had done to the carpenters and the twins. and you couldn't believe that he was back.

silence coated the walls of the room, everyone was too shocked to say anything.

tara ran out of the room into another area of the apartment, mindy and chad following behind her. sam walked out the door. you wanted to go after tara, but you thought you might make things worse in that sector. she already had the twins following her, and sam had nobody.

you trailed behind sam. she ran down the stairs, sitting down on the end step, her head falling into her hands. you slowly approached, sitting down on the end step beside her.

"i'm so sorry." you whispered, looking straight ahead.

"its never gonna fucking end." sam sobbed out, her fingers tangling into her hair.

you sat in silence, your palms flat on your lap. you didn't know if you should do anything or say anything.

"there's nothing i can say or do to make this better... but i hope you know, there's more of us now. no way in hell are we leaving you alone in all of this." you said, determined. "you aren't going to go through this alone, sam."

sam peeked her head out. your words were something she had heard before, but coming from you, she felt different about them. she knew you didn't know how to reassure her, you hadn't been through the same thing. you two only knew each other in passing, but she appreciated it.

she turned to you, and you turned to her.

this was the closest you two had been ever.

had she always been this beautiful?

had you?

you shook your head to shake away your thoughts, now was not the time. you could tell she was also trying to push her own thoughts away.

"thank you, i appreciate that." she whispered, a small but genuine smile flashed at you.

"do you want to sit here for a bit longer?" you asked her.

sam begun to think that tara was right. you were incredibly kind and considerate, you could read people like they were an open book. she nodded at you and you nodded back at her.

you two proceeded to sit in a comfortable silence.

you could hear thumping above you, knowing that the twin's apartment was active with stress and fear.

but you couldn't move. you had to be there for sam.

and you meant what you said.

no matter what, you weren't leaving.

•*¨*•.¸¸♪

author's journal i actually am also unsure about this set up for the series. i hope my writing gets better as it goes on but the set up was a bit rough to write and even read. but i promise better content soon y’all 😫 i also would have written a longer drunken argument scene between tara & reader but i needed some sam emphasis, this might get edited in the future

on another note, okay yeah i have so much love for the carpenter sisters actually. this idea came to be out of nowhere when i was watching scream vi to fall asleep and i immediately told emma about it so everyone say ty emma ilysm liefje. she's had to deal with all my bullshit recently so this entire series is dedicated to her <3

another thing is heaps and heaps of credits to @shdysders one of my current favorite writers because the drunken argument scene is hella similar to theirs from one of their fics, if only (which you all should read btw.) thank you babes.

andddd let me know if you wanna get added to the taglist for this fic also and i’ll be more than happy to oblige <3

[chiara81-4]

hey girlie!! could you do lando norris x reader pls🙏🙏🙏 i loved ur charles story and i want u to write one ab lando pls pls pls 🙏🙏 love u

a/n: hey love! of course! I've gotten a couple lando x reader requests so I will do my best to please everyone!

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forever and always - lando norris x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, brothers best friend trope, not proofread (sorry for any typos)

word count: i don't know LOL it's a lot.

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Age 11:

you had an older brother, he was talented since he was young. your parents dumped money into his racing career at a young age, leaving you alone. when it was your 11th birthday, your family went to watch your brother kart. since then you just kind of been there, until lando came along...

Age 14:

your brother came home one day, your parents surrounding him with kisses and hugs. you rolled your eyes, turning around and going to your room. a few hours had past and you heard lively chatter fill the dining room downstairs. you were confused. did a family member come to visit? you strolled your way down, walking into the dining room to find your eyes meeting an unfamiliar pair of green eyes. you furrow your brows, confused. "honey, this is lando" your mother smiled at you. "hey," he smiled. "hi, im y/n" you nervously said.

why were you so nervous? you avoided his gaze every chance you got, you went to sit down next to your brother, who was talking to lando about some karting race they had together. until the conversation fell to a weird silence. lando spoke up "its y/n, right?" he questions. "yeah its y/n" you smile faintly at him. he continues to talk "have you seen the new (movie) yet?"

"oh no i haven't. how about you?" you queer. "me either, we should go together just, you and me." a blush crept onto your face. "i mean, um, sure."

"great, meet me outside your house at 6pm" he smiled

"dude, ew that's my sister, no way you like her." your brother disgustingly looked at him. lando rolled his eyes and continued to smile at you.

-time skip-

the clock reads 5:30pm, only half an hour until lando picks you up and you're stressing. what are you going to wear? you put some light makeup on (you can change anything about the outfit, makeup etc :)) as well as some light blue jeans and a dark blue shirt. by the time you're content with your outfit you hear a knock on your door, you rush down the stairs to find your brother at the front door.

"i'm not sure about this y/n, hes my best friend." your brother says. "oh my god shut up (brothers name), grow up." you roll your eyes and walk out the front door, closing it in his face. you're met face to face with lando. who is wearing black jeans and a white shirt.

"wow, you look really nice y/n" he smiles. you smile back, thanking him as well as complimenting his outfit.

when you arrive at the movie theatre, lando buys the tickets and snacks. you argued (playfully) over who would be paying. "lando, just let me buy the popcorn, you bought the tickets." you say "never." he argues back.

once you guys grab your popcorn and whatever else, you made your way to the theatre and sat down in your seats. "i'm really glad you agreed to join me, y/n" lando smiled. "me too" you return the smile, once the previews start, you and lando are laughing at how bad some of the upcoming movies are. "NO WAY IS SOMEONE GOING TO WATCH THAT" you cackle. lando laughed even harder at your comment, until the lights dimmed and the movie started.

about halfway through the movie, lando turned to you. your eyes were glued to the screen until you saw lando looking at you. "what?" you say. "nothing, nothing" he cheekily smiles at you. you turn your eyes back to the movie playing in front of you. until you feel lando grab your hand. you blush hard. thank god its dark in the theatre.

once the movie is over. you and lando continue to keep your fingers interlocked. until you go home.

when you arrive at your front door lando smiles at you. "thank you again for agreeing to come with me y/n. i really enjoyed it."

"thank you for inviting me, lando." you kiss his cheek. landos face turns a beet red. "see you soon." you say.

"y-yeah, see you soon." lando says, holding his cheek in the place you pecked it. you open the door and turn around to say one last goodbye.

the thing you didn't know is that you wouldn't be seeing him anytime soon after the movie date.

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stay tuned for part 2!!