#rip chat challenge

[anneonomus]

pre-robin baby stalker tim as a streamer. that’s it that’s the post

[kurooh]

bf! toji who fucks you so well on camera that your account skyrockets to the top on onlyfans and pornhub. his face, body, and dirty talk garners thousands—no, millions—of followers and gets the money rolling in faster than you could say his name. of course, he’s not the only reason for all the popularity; you’re sexy in every way possible, fucking him back before you inevitably go dumb on his cock, going so far as to talk right back to him.

“what am i, a whore?” despite his words, toji smirks, clicking his tongue at the incoming comments of new members of the stream. “we’ve been live for two minutes. ‘m not taking my clothes off yet, damn.”

“oh, come on,” you press up against his side, manicured nails lightly raking over his biceps, “give ‘em what they want, toji.”

he huffs, turning his head to the side. still damp from the shower, toji’s dark hair goes along with the movement, bits sticking to his forehead. “what you want or what they want, baby?”

the chat explodes with wild comments, ranging from raw next question to i’m doing it are you, all of which makes you laugh. tips ka-ching on the screen and finally, the clothes fly off in all directions.

toji’s on his back, greedily pulling you on top of his face like he’s starving (dinner was an hour ago). he’s refrained from ripping off your underwear, favoring the idea of teasing you through the fabric instead.

“off, let me take ‘em off,” you whine, squirming as he holds you over his face and takes his sweet goddamn time licking over your dampened panties. “that’s not fair, toji.”

his green eyes narrow at you, a scoff slipping past his lips. so sassy, but at least he doesn’t ignore your pleas this time—maybe toji’s feeling magnanimous. “suck it up.”

perhaps not. another whine, and you go so far as to tug at his hair, hips rocking insistently into his face. “you’re so annoying,” neither of you are looking at your phone, the way the screen’s bursting with colorful tip notifications and comments, “if you aren’t hungry, just say so. don’t waste my time, toji.”

of course toji would never admit it, but he’s got a habit of being easy: always taking your purposeful bait, smug expression melting into a scowl. and oh, maybe that was the wrong thing to say—but it certainly feels so damn right when he yanks your panties to the side and sits you all the way down on his face.

still offended, he grunts, mumbling something intelligible as his lips find your wet cunt. (like, you’ve been together for how long?) slippery arousal coats your skin, slicking up his lips with something bittersweet when he indulges in his favorite dessert.

you’re rocking your hips into his face, eagerly taking everything he’s giving you. a small moan escapes you when your clit bumps into the tip of his nose, sending a delightful bolt of electricity through your entire body.

“t-toji, fuck.”

your virtual audience is nearly enjoying this as much as you are. if his teeth weren’t lightly nibbling at your folds while his tongue pushes inside you inch by inch, you’d be in a state to laugh at the comments. one of his palms falls away from your ass and before you can register the brief loss, a stinging slap cuts through the air.

“oughta watch that mouth, babygirl,” toji ignores the wail that follows the impact, along with the glossy tears that spring to your eyes. “maybe if you didn’t have so much goddamn nerve, i’d..”

it shouldn’t come out as quickly as it does, but you purposefully grind down into his mouth, ignoring the muffled sound of him choking on all the saliva. “you’d what, toji?”

some comments are excited, wondering what’ll happen now that you’re challenging him right back. others are raving about being in your position or toji’s—something along the lines of how difficult it is to choose.

he shoves you up with just one hand, feeling his cock twitch from the softness of your thighs circling his head and the way you use that damn mouth of yours. toji’s never had someone talk back to him as much as you do, and it’s something he’ll never get tired of. it’s something that throws him off while he’s giving you backshots and secretly makes him cum faster, although he pretends to get hamstring cramps just to buy himself some more time.

toji’s almost too blissed out to snap back.

“i’d give you mercy, but what was i jus’ saying? maybe you’d like it a little fuckin’ better if i kept eating this pussy of yours.”

you look down your nose at him. “like you could keep going, old man.”

that strikes a chord, hitting a nerve much faster than it should. so toji drags in a breath and dives in, as filthy and careless as he can be—making a mess, spreading your legs impossibly wider just to find that sweet spot of yours that always gets you arching on his face.

wet noise fills the room, backing the breathless gasps and moans that fall from your lips, along with softer panting of mumbled praises bunching with his name. the way he eats—no, devours—you is akin to someone who’s been both starving and thirsty for days on end, too insatiable to please with just one taste.

ecstasy sparks in all your nerves, chasing its way to the tension pooling in the core of your body. it’s red hot and heavy, begging to be released; but no, toji commands your high with the rough strokes of his tongue and obscene slurping of his lips. he lets it simmer right below the surface until you’re begging, hands on either side of his head as you weakly hump against his face.

“i-i said,” you grit out, ignoring the sticky sheen of sweat covering your face, “make me cum, toji.”

he arches an eyebrow, satisfaction sparkling in his eyes. “and ya still didn’t say please.”

frustration bubbles up in your chest. it’s rare for you to be reduced to a begging mess on live, but there’s supposedly a first time for everything. your lips part, preparing to give him what he wants, when something bratty speaks in the back of your mind. there’s no need to listen to him, is there?

with one hand slipping into his damp hair and the other stabilizing you on the bed, you take what you want from him. like an ocean wave, your hips roll not-so-gently over his face until you finally fall over the edge, convulsing a little as you cum.

the orgasm literally takes your breath away—not to mention his as well—and leaves you whining as you come down from the intense high, stars shooting across your vision. neither of you have been paying much attention to your phone, too engrossed in each other to notice the fact that you’ve met the livestream donation goal or all the new followers you’ve earned.

toji lifts you up, cheeks flushed scarlet. he is simultaneously turned on by you taking control of him and also pissed that you refused to say just one word.

“fucking brat,” toji curses, easily maneuvering your weakened body into a new position that’s got you on your hands and knees, ass all the way up. “you’re gonna face that goddamn camera while i wreck this pretty pussy, got that?”

“‘m still sensi—oh my god. a-ah, fuck—wait a second, i—”

behind you, toji smacks his lips, placing both hands on your ass cheeks and spreading you wide. “no, no. this is what you wanted, right? for me to make you cum again and a-fucking-gain.”

you backpedal, back arching unintentionally when two large fingers slide into your cunt without much resistance. “fuck, tojiii, wait—”

a squeal actually leaves you when he puts a hand on the small of your back and forces you to maintain the arch. toji can be stingy at times, but never when you—he’s got a habit of being too generous, if the right buttons are pushed.

“might wanna think about saying please next time, yeah? fuckin’ thought so.”

[rafeshit]

cocky!rafe x cocky!reader

warnings — none other than LOTS of angst and kissing

summary — enemies to kissing on a ski trip, inspired by a TikTok

—

as you strap on your skis, you gaze out at the snowy peaks surrounding the lodge you and your friends were staying at. your friends were chatting excitedly near the ski lift, while rafe, the bound of your existence stands off to the side, his usual annoying smirk plastered on his face. you can't help but roll your eyes, you've had to put up with his condescending attitude for years, and the constant bickering between you two has become exhausting and more frequent.

but, for the sake of this trip, you and Rafe agreed to a 72-hour truce as requested from your friends.

now that you had your gear on it was time to start skiing, you and rafe were adrenaline junkies at heart, so you guys made your way to the hard ski slopes as your friends stuck to the easier trails.

as you pause at the top of the ski slope, Rafe looks over at you, "I bet you can't beat me down there," he says, in the most arrogant way possible. you raise an eyebrow, and with a cocky grin on your face you say, "I've been doing this my whole life, good luck!”

rafes smirk widens. "Challenge accepted."

as you fly down the mountain with your skis carving effortless turns, you let out a gut wrenching laugh. You're so far ahead of Rafe, it's humiliating. You pull out your phone to record your dominance, planning to rub it in his face when you reach the bottom. you can't wait to see the look on Rafe's face when you show him the evidence of your victory.

suddenly, he appears out of nowhere, his skis harshly digging into the snow as he catches up to you. You're still holding your phone out, grinning from ear to ear, when he grabs you by the waist and plants a sudden helmet-to-helmet kiss on your cheek.

You're dumbfounded, the laughter dying on your lips. You ski for a few seconds, trying to process what just happened before coming to a stop. You rip off your helmet, tossing it to the ground, and turn to face Rafe, narrowing your eyes.

"What the hell was that?!" you shouted, rafe saunters over, unhitching his helmet, and gives you an innocent look. "What was what?" he asks, pretending like he has no idea what you're talking about.

"You kissed me dumbass!" you accuse. Rafe shrugs, giving you a smile. "That was hardly a kiss. our helmets were in the way." You can't believe his audacity, acting like it was no big deal. “Awe, did a little kiss get you flustered?" Rafe teases.

You immediately shake your head, "Absolutely not, I'd rather die."

Rafe raises an eyebrow, "I think you kind of liked it."

"Not in a million years," you insist.

Rafe takes a step closer, getting a good look at your face. "Your blush says otherwise," he smirks.

we’re you blushing? You thought, you couldn’t tell from how cold it was but you try to brush it off. "It's just the 20 degree weather and skiing down the slopes..."

Rafe interrupts you, “no, the blush when i said kiss… what’s that about?” He asks you jokingly.

You're starting to feel frustrated, trapped in this conversation. "Fine," you mutter, rolling your eyes again. Rafe takes another step closer, to the point where you were mere inches apart, "If it didn't bother you, let me do it again. One kiss. If it bothers you, then fine, but if not, then I'll go down and tell our friends you beat me so hard."

"I'm not gonna like it." you spat.

Rafe took that as an opportunity to his own advantage. "If you do, I get to do it again, and again, and again."

You throw up your hands, "Screw it, fine. Do it." you shrug. Rafe's eyes light up and he leans in, his lips brushing against yours, not connecting just yet, then he grabs you by the waist shoving your bodies together connecting your lips, his tongue slips into your mouth which surprises you and he sort of just does it one sided. you couldn’t lie, although it was one kiss, his plump lips felt so satisfying against yours.

As Rafe pulls back from the kiss, you find yourself leaning forward, your lips still parted, craving more. You're taken aback by your own reaction, but Rafe seems to revel in it. He gives you a smirk, "Yeah, I thought you'd like it.”

You feel a blush rise to your cheeks as you realize you've been caught. Rafe takes advantage of your momentary distraction, leaning in again to capture your lips in another kiss. This time, you don't try to resist. You let yourself get lost in the touch.

his hands cradle your face, rubbing your cheek ever so slightly.

you never thought you’d end up kissing rafe, ever. But since you lost the bet, it seems like you’ll be kissing him more often…

[svelish]

Billie and reader do the jelly bean challenge (bean boozled) on a live

˚₊۶ৎ˙⋆ (HELP. IM TOO LAZY)

The screen flickered to life as Billie adjusted her phone on the tripod, her blue eyes gleaming with excitement. She was sitting cross-legged on her bed, a half-empty bag of snacks beside her, and you were right next to her, crisscrossed in a hoodie that was definitely stolen from her closet.

"Alright, people," Billie grinned, dragging out the words as she waved the little **Bean Boozled** box at the camera. "Y’all are evil for suggesting this, but here we are—me and my beautiful victim," she nudged you with her shoulder, making you laugh.

"Victim? Excuse me? You’re the one who agreed to this," you shot back, pretending to be offended.

"Yeah, yeah," Billie rolled her eyes but kept smiling. "We’re doing the **Bean Boozled Challenge**, which means we could get delicious flavors... or absolute nightmares." She shook the box dramatically, and the jelly beans rattled inside.

The chat was already spamming "LMAOOO", "GOOD LUCK", and "BILLIE’S GONNA DIE FIRST."

Billie chuckled, reading some of the comments. "Y’all got no faith in me. What if I have elite taste buds and actually enjoy the nasty ones?"

"You literally gagged eating a slightly overripe banana yesterday," you reminded her.

"Shut up," she muttered, making a face as she ripped open the box. "Alright, first spin!"

She flicked the tiny spinner in the box, and it landed on Peach or Barf.

"OH HELL NO," Billie yelled, throwing her head back while the chat went wild.

"You first," you smirked, grabbing one of the orange-speckled jelly beans and handing it to her.

"Bro, if this is barf, I’m suing," she muttered before tossing it into her mouth. For a second, she chewed. Then her eyes went wide. Pure horror.

"OH MY GOD—" She shot up from the bed so fast she nearly knocked the tripod over. "NOPE. NOPE. NOPE." She ran off-screen, leaving you wheezing with laughter as the comments exploded.

"LMFAOOOOOO"

"BILLIE COME BACKKKK"

"HER SOUL LEFT HER BODY"

After a few moments of dramatic coughing and Billie chugging her drink, she flopped back down, shaking her head. "That was actual vomit. Who invented this? Satan??"

"Your turn," she grumbled, handing you the box.

You spun the wheel, and it landed on Toasted Marshmallow or Stink Bug.

You popped the jelly bean into your mouth, chewing slowly while Billie watched with anticipation.

"…I think I got marshmallow."

The chat immediately went: "BOOOOOO", "RIGGED!!", "MAKE THEM EAT ANOTHER ONE".

"No way, try another," Billie insisted, snatching another identical jelly bean and shoving it into your hand.

Sighing, you ate it—and instantly regretted it.

Your face twisted, and Billie screamed with laughter, falling over onto your lap. "YOOOO THAT'S SO GROSS!!" she wheezed.

You grabbed her hoodie sleeve, shaking her dramatically. "IT TASTES LIKE AN ACTUAL DEAD BUG."

She was dying at this point, her laugh echoing through the room as the chat spammed crying emojis. "Next round," Billie wiped tears from her eyes, barely keeping it together. "This is the best thing ever."

The game continued, with Billie gagging over Rotten Egg, you nearly throwing up from Canned Dog Food, and both of you high-fiving when you actually got good flavors.

By the end, Billie was curled up on your lap, groaning. "I think I need a detox, man. Like, my taste buds are traumatized."

You wrapped your arms around her. "We survived, though."

"Barely." She looked at the camera, pouting. "Chat, y’all better appreciate this ‘cause I’m never doing it again."

"WE NEED PART 2"

"DO IT WITH FINNEAS NEXT"

"THIS WAS HILARIOUS PLS"

Billie groaned, closing her eyes. "Nope. I’m retiring from jelly beans forever."

And with that, she dramatically ended the livestream.

[ranidspace]

there's a lot of fear mongering around the new firefox terms of service and privacy policy and most of all of it is bullshit and, just fear mongering. One thing that is concerning however is the following:

Your use of Firefox must follow Mozilla’s Acceptable Use Policy, and you agree that you will not use Firefox to infringe anyone’s rights or violate any applicable laws or regulations.

Before this would only apply to mozilla services such as the matrix chat, firefox send (rip), the vpn, or whatever, but now they are saying it is applied to the browser as well.

And one of the things you shouldn't do according to the policy is, you guessed it:

Upload, download, transmit, display, or grant access to content that includes graphic depictions of sexuality or violence

So mozilla (perhaps accidentally, companies love to do this but also mozilla is kind of stupid), just said you cannot use firefox to browse porn. If it is intentional and they double down on this (which I'm really not sure if they even can, firefox is a program running locally on your computer, it's not a service they can just ban you from or anything like that, again, mozilla is a bit stupid), it's not a reason to use chromium. In the terms of service they also write:

These Terms only apply to the Executable Code version of Firefox, not the Firefox source code.

"the Executable Code" is vague, like does it count if you build it locally on your computer, or is it just the mozilla packaged versions of it downloaded from official sources or whatever idk.

But i think it would make sense forks don't count as the terms apply to "Firefox" and not anything else. So here's some alternative browsers which aren't firefox, but are firefox based:

Librewolf: just firefox, all the crap removed, and lots of privacy features turned on as well. Google is disabled in the search bar, but you can enable it again with a bit of a hack, and by default, history and cookies is cleared when you close it. You can turn that off easily. Basically identical to regular firefox otherwise, it's what i'm currently using.

Zen: Very new but gaining popularity quickly. kind of buggy due to it's recency, but people seem to love it. Main focus is customization, but with improvements in privacy, and speed. Pretty different from other browsers, but that might be what you want.

thats. basically the main two rn. i dont think anything else really would be good for most people and even as someone who really likes to get into things deep with privacy and security and shit i think librewolf is just fine. there's lot of other options but they're kinda all in the categories that these two cover.

While nowhere near in a state to be used as a regular browser, i would keep your eyes on Ladybird which is undergoing the insane challenge of making a web browser from scratch; it's not based on chromium or firefox. The first alpha version is projected to come out next year and it seems very promising.

[sinning-23]

Backseat Pillow Princess

Hey y'all! I like to call this game, "Guess what I saw and cant stop fucking thinking about?" Take this because I need them both carnally and I'm sure you do too!

Enjoy :D

Warnings: violence, blood, swearing, the reader is annoying and Logan pretends to hate it in a way that seems like he actually does, they should have fucked but uhhh they didn't, lots of tension, pt.2 coming soon hopefully?

PT.2 UP NOW

"Bae i love youuu, you my everythinggg~"

"Can she shut the fuck up"

"I'm your main bitchhhh, fuck a wedding ringggg~"

"Only if you ask her nicely,"

"Nah, I like when he's mean."

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me"

The nonstop back-and-forth bickering had been going on for about 2 and a half hours now and the man the myth the legend, Wolverine was getting dangerously tired of it, unfortunately. Your shitty renditions of Sexyy Red matched with Deadpools incessant yapping was becoming too much to bear.

But little did he know, that was exactly your plan.

"Are we there yetttt" You whine from the backseat, sprawled out with your arm over your face.

It had been what felt like days (despite it only being a couple hours as previously mentioned) you'd been driving and the fact that you were in a small space filled with touch-starved testosterone(Wade and Logan) wasn't helping your case.

"If you shut up it'll go faster," Logan grumbles, Wade's chatting only worsening.

"No, it won't, you're just being mean! What's a sexy, super talented, immortal.. sorta, girl like myself supposed to do?" You whine again, an idea soon popping into your head.

If there was anything you loved more than seeing how far you could push this crotchety son of a bitch, it was stirring the pot.

Knowing the idiot riding passenger, a slip-up was inevitable and all it would take was the right pressure applied from yours truly.

"Hey Wade, wanna ask Wolvie what he's gonna do when he gets back? To his own timeline that is." You hum, resting your elbows on the middle console and your chin in your palms.

Ah yes, the fantasy your sick little brain conjured up was almost to fruition. All they needed were a few nudges and you'd all be at each other's throats with as much violent, sexual tension you could dream of.

"Yeah, what will you do if the TVA can fix your timeline?"

Bingo

You lean back, preparing for the absolute bloodbath that's bound to take place as the tension skyrockets.

Now up until this point, you'd be trying your damndest to get into Wolverine's pants, call it 'something you needed to scratch off your bucket list'. Anyway, from the "Mad Max"(as Wade put it) esque part of the void all the way here, you made your fair share of passes.

Unfortunately, all were shot down with a snark comment, the unsheathing of those gorgeous adamantium claws, or a growl...all of which only further fueled your desire. What could you say you liked a challenge?

"What did you say?"

You lean forward, making eye contact with Wade, his head shaking as if to say "No don't don't don't" but you were never good with social cues.

"He said 'IF' sweetheart." You retort, practically kicking your feet as the look in Logan's eyes grows wild, that growl barely bubbling in his throat as he and Wade converse back and forth.

"You shut the fuck up." He seethes, though directed at you his eyes stay focused on Wade.

You fight the urge to say 'make me" but you soon become quiet when Logan really starts to read your buddy in red. Oh, this fucker was definitely projecting...

"And you," He's got an accusatory, gloved finger pointing at the center of your face.

"You got some unresolved daddy issues or something? I don't know what hole or holes you're trying to fill but I can sure as shit tell you the harder you try to get under my skin the more it makes me wanna rip yours off that pretty-looking face." He growls, your heart practically beating out of your chest.

"Now I suggest each of you shut your goddamn mouths until we are where we need to be."

It's silent for a second again and you can feel the bridge about to break...anyyy second now.

"I'm gonna fight you now."

Three...

Logan chuckles, amused at the fact that Wade would even suggest he could getaway with something like that

Two..

And mid-sentence, Wade's fists make contact with Logan's nose.

One.

You scoot back, the car shaking as Wades head makes contact with hr car door and then the radio, each smack of his skull changing the station.

“Omg nooo don’t kill each other you’re both so hot and sexy and cool, nooo.” You yelp, your false concerned pleas falling on deaf ears.

And once the blood from each blow splatters against your face, you feel a bit opted to join in. Besides, he hurt your feelings, he deserved a little ass-kicking.

Question, when three seemingly frustrated and regenerative assholes get into a car fight with tensions, sexual or otherwise, that have been building for about 2 days now, what happens?

You slip past the pair of claws that just barely nick your side as you shove the driver's seat forward, effectively trapping Logan for a moment.

"You did this on purpose! You honry fuck!" Wade shouts, using his elbow to crack your skull and shoved you right back into your spot behind them before you can respond. Logan pushed the seat back again, now trapping you as his claws stabbed through the cushion, impalling you through the back of the seat.

"FUCK! This isn't how this was supposed to pan out in my head!" You yelp, gasping when the claws leave you feeling the worst kind of empty.

"I didn't even do anything he's the one that lied!" You seethe, using the heel of your boot to kick Wade's side in, the crack of bones bringing you much satisfaction.

"IT WAS AN EDUCATED WISH!" He defends, unloading about 3 bullets into your sternum before kicking Logan out the winsheild, glass falling inside and out.

You take a gulp of air, digging the bullet out before locking your arm around Wade's neck and the passenger seat headrest.

"You red-clad cunt! I was supposed to rizz him up, fuck him, and ride off into the sunset with my rugged fucking mountain of a man and you RUINED IT!" You shout, releasing Wade when six separate knives dig right back into you.

Taking the chance, you throw the back of your head at his face before pulling his claws from out your sides and kicking Wade's chest in. Looks like legs were your strong suit today!

"You said you didn't wanna fill any holes, yet here we are!" You growl in frustration, turning back around to shove your boot heel into this man's rock-hard chest.

He only grabs your ankle, pulling you forward, once again skewered by his claws. Your position is less than ideal, any other angle would for sure look l like you were on the receiving end of some damn good strokes.

And there it is, that stupid bloodied grin he gives while he watches your eyes squeeze shut and your head tilt back. A light, yet pained swear left your bloodied lips and the gasp that leaves your lungs when his claws retracted was just as erotic as you'd imagine.

"Would've been better off fucking at this point huh?" You joke, seeing Wade creep up behind the backseat door.

"Maybe." He responds a bit coy, the tension only dying down for a fraction of a second before you're at each other's throats again.

With your help, Wade is right back in the car, and the three of you are now waiting for the next move. Logan's up against the dash, Wade is heaving against the backseat by your side, the two of you manspreading with a dangerously hungry look directed at the man in yellow.

"This is pointless. We're gonna be here for hours regenerating and fucking each other up, but damn if it isn't fun." you chuckle, letting your head lull back against the completely destroyed headrest.

"So what do you suggest, 'sweetheart'," Logan growls, using your little pet name from earlier.

"Oh I think you know very well what I suggest, but I'm starting to believe you just can get it up can you peepaw?" You insult, Logan's face contorting in a sneer.

There's another silence, your gaze locked with Logan's as you both teeter on the edge of regular frustration and the urge to rip each other's clothes off. This fuckers love language was definitely acts of playful violence...if playful meant an absolute bloodbath in this stupid-ass honda odyssey.

"I feel like there's some underlying tension here that I definitely wanna be a part of.

"You shut the fuck up" You speak simultaneously, Wade doing just that.

"So what'll it be, bub. Fuck me or fight me?" You mock, seeing that smile right back on his face.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You would like to say that the remainder of the day, into the night, all the way into the wee hours of the morning were spent furiously love-making in the bloody and battered Honda, but that would only be half the truth.

The moonlight had shone so brightly down on the three of you, each movement calculated, as you continued to punch, stab, pick and damn near fuck each other in the enclosed space.

At one point your hands were pinned to the dented dashboard, Logan slotted between your legs, Wade right behind your oddly bent body....accept Wade's gun was at the small of your back and Logan had his hand wrapped tightly around your throat as your legs squeezed as tight as possible.

And at another, you'd been hovering above Logan, hands at his chest while Wade had a fistful of your hair, his grip lethal... a-although your hands were only at his chest cause you were double-fisting two knives that you had wedged to the hilt into each to his pectorals...and Wade was also pulling your hair to get a better angle at your chest since he deemed it was "only fair" considering you were going the same to the man beneath you.

It had only gotten worse, your comments ranging from rude to just plain nasty, and the farther along you went in the night....strangely enough, the better everything felt. The slight accidental/intentional grind of your hips against Logans, or the way you just so happened to fall back into Wade's chest, your bodies pressed so close together you could feel each breath you both took.

"Oh you just don't know when to quit, do you honey?" Logan grumbles, throwing you off him, your positions quickly switch.

"Not in my vocabulary sweetheart." You shoot back, gasping when Wade grips your hair again.

"Yeah, thought you were seeing the pattern ready peanut, she's hard to break." He chuckles, a filthy smile making its way over your bloodied face.

You were practically sandwiched, Wade behind you, his chest to your back, and your legs just barely make room for Logan who was kneeling one leg on the backseat, the other slightly off the edge.

"This is a little unfair don't you think? Feels like I'm about to get tag-teamed." You joke, the moonlight illuminating the current position just enough.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you? You're sick." Logan scoffs, only feeding into your slight delusions.

"Yeah, I might be sick but you're a hypocrite, You want it too, don't you? I know for sure Wade does, 'cause that's definitely not his gun on my ass." You shoot back, body and brain stirring from the hours of activities.

He doesn't say anything, just tightens he grip he has on your hips.

“Cmonnn, we had our nice,” you glance over at the destroyed radio, your hopes of trying to get the time seemingly crushed.

“We’ll say 9 hours give or take, we’ve already been fighting and none of us are really satisfied.”

You can feel Wade adjust, his hands now secure at your shoulders, massaging the small of your neck with his thumbs.

“We all know what’s gonna solve that and we can put this whole debacle behind us.” You coax, your hips rolling a bit to meet his and he turn his head, jaw working as if he was seriously considering the offer.

And with a finally huff what really sounded more like a growl of last restrained, he’s on you.

——————————————————————-

YES IM MAKING A PART TWO YES THERE WILL BE SMUT BECAUSE WTF YALL. UHHH HOPE YOU ENJOY LMK IF YOU WANNA BE TAGGED I. THE NEXT PART!

[everylittlethingshedoesismagic]

RIP Hannah @dreamsagain

My tribute to Hannah

I knew this day was coming an have found it hard to put in to words my tribute to my amazing, beautiful crazy friend Hannah

Hannah was a remarkable soul whose spirit shone brightly even in her darkest of times. Her unwavering courage in the face of cancer was an inspiration to all who knew her. I will forever cherish our silly chats, filled with laughter and warmth, which brought joy to my days. Each moment spent online with her was a privilege, as she had a unique ability to uplift those around her, reminding us of the beauty in life despite its challenges.

You knew everything about me even down to what I ordered for a takeaway. The laughs we shared the stupid chats that made no sense not even to us but we still had them. From the moment we connected here I knew you was a special person, I really became very close to you and had hoped one day we would meet either for a walk on your beautiful beaches or even here is cold / wet London, yes you mentioned it always rained her so many times :-)

You always wished me happiness and lots of love forever with my partner Sarah. You asked me every day how I was and how Sarah was.

Though she has left this world, her memory will live on in my heart. I will miss her dearly, but I am grateful for the time we shared and the lessons she taught me about resilience and love as well as believing in myself she gave me so much confidence and made me feel so much better about myself from the day we connected,. Rest in peace, dear friend; your legacy of strength and kindness will never be forgotten. Miss you so much sexy bum! @dreamsagain true to my word I will stay good friends with Lauren @callmenonames

I know you touched many hearts on here and we will all miss you dear Hannah. But we will never ever forget you.

Kisses x Ellie B

[soobibabe]

aphrodisiac

pairings: jeon jungkook + reader synopsis: Your husband orders a box of special chocolates for the two of you to try together, suggesting that you see who can resist each other the longest. (spoiler: they forgot about the game the second they're within each others proximity) warnings: dom!jk, low-key switch reader, penetrative sex, unprotected, oral (m. receiving), no use of "y/n", fingering (he fingered his cum into her), explicit language, praising, BREEDING KINK, fem bodied reader

"Kook? Did you order these?" you shout from your doorstep, examining the sealed, unfamiliar package that showed up on your porch unannounced.

You certainly didn't do any online shopping this month, so there's only one other person who could have.

Jungkook appears in an instant upon hearing your call. You turn around to face him, and to your surprise his eyes beam when they meet the box in your hands. "Mhm" he replies, grabbing it out of your hands and pulling you back inside the house.

"What's got you so excited?" you ask looking at the man tearing apart the box like a kid on Christmas day opening presents.

He dips his hand into the package and pulls out a box of chocolates. You stare blankly, shocked that man — your husband, who hates more than half of the sweets you buy — the man who always preaches about how savory and spice is better — is this gaped by chocolates that he ordered.

"Are you serious?" you inquire. "They're not just chocolates, baby. They've got good stuff inside them" he spurs in one breath, kissing you before dragging you with him to your bedroom. "C'mon, we've got a game to play".

He sits beside you on the bed, unwrapping the golden package and snapping a piece of chocolate in two, handing you one.

"They're aphrodisiac chocolates. Taehyung tried it last week and told the group chat that we all have to try it. You know I love challenges, right?" he explains.

"One serving each and the aim is to see who'll give in first" You're stunned, you can't believe your husband wants to part take in this when you both know he can't keep his hands off of you. "Alright, I'll play this stupid game with you, but what are the stakes?"

"I didn't think about all of that," he scratches his head "Let's just eat the chocolates " he grins, waiting for you to comply, and you do.

After 10 minutes of just talking about Taehyung's experience when he had the aphrodisiacs, you begin to feel the effects. You could tell it was impacting Jungkook too when his voice became a little shakey, trying to conceal it out of pure competitiveness.

Alas, you weren't gonna make this easy for him. It was his idea anyway. You crawl over to him while he blabbers on about Kim Taehyungs sex life, and straddle his lap, hearing the words die down in his throat to a gulp as you do so.

"Do you wanna fuck me, koo?" you whisper in his ear, knowing it'll drive him insane. You squirm on top of him in an attempt to settle yourself comfortably on his thighs, feeling his cock grow ridiculously harder beneath you.

"Don't fucking taunt me, baby" he bites back. He pulls his shirt off, grabbing your hand to drag it along his torso, feeling every square inch of the muscles under your touch relax and contract. He stops at his sweats, pressing your smaller hand against his bulge. "Feel how hard I am for you?"

It's torturous how difficult it is to not reach under his boxers and put him right inside you. Instead, you distract yourself by making busy on his neck, leaving pretty trails of love bites on him.

You know the marks work him up. He loves the idea of claiming you as his, and vice versa. Whenever you leave them, though it isn't often, he doesn't do a thing to hide them.

"Fuck, baby please take this off." he nearly whimpers when he voices this. His fingers dance at the hem of your top, trying his best to not rip it off of you.

You peel the layer off, leaving you in only your shorts and bra. "You're so beautiful" he contends. He takes in all of you, admiring every stretch and curve. "You were made for me" he whispers.

"Can I suck you off, kook?" you request, and he looks at you with an expression that says 'Why bother asking?'.

"Do you think I'd say no to my wife wanting to give me a blowjob?" he asks, voice dropping a few octaves lower than his usual soft tone.

With that confirmation, you tug his pants along with his boxers down his thighs. Your hands wrap around his length like second nature, guiding the tip to your lips.

You stick out your tongue, tracing light circles around the head until you finally take it into your mouth, slowly going inch by inch down your throat. As a result of Jungkook previously insisting on size training, it doesn't take long to take him in all the way.

You bob your head on his length, hollowing your cheeks to wrap snuggly around his shaft. He's in bliss watching you please him so well. "Good girl" he groans.

His hand tangles in your hair, helping you take him further as he pushes down gently. "I love you" he murmurs in a hushed tone.

"I'm so close already, fuck" he chuckles, he's never been one to not last long. "Baby pull off, there's something I wanna do, but keep your hands on me."

You obey, maintaining the same pace with your hand on his cock, sitting up between his thighs. "Undress for me," he says breathlessly, on the verge of his climax.

Once your clothes are all off, he aligns himself with your core, fucking himself harder in your fist. You've both long forgotten about the whole 'challenge' by now.

Jungkook cums all over your cunt and stomach without warning, his head thrown back in ecstasy. He pulls you into a deep kiss, riding out his high whilst his hand dips into the distance between your bodies.

He gathers the substance of his orgasm onto his fingers and shoves them inside your sopping pussy, causing you to moan into the kiss.

His fingers thrust mercilessly into you, making your legs involuntarily clench together. "Keep every last drop inside if you" he utters, pulling away from the heated kiss.

He let you have your fun with him, but now it was his turn. There is nothing more he wants to do than fill you up.

"Fuck, right there!" you chant, followed by pleas and cries of his name which sound like music in his ears.

"That's it" he purs, knowing exactly where to curl his fingers to abuse your g-spot. He feels you clench around his hand, your body wanting more than just his fingers.

"Gonna let me fuck a baby into you, Mrs. Jeon?" you nod, too fucked out to give a vocal response other than whines and moans.

"It's about time we had a mini us, yeah?" the thought of you carrying his baby turns him on more than he thought possible.

He replaces his fingers with his dick by lifting and slamming you by your hips onto him, suddenly flipping you over so that he's hovering over you now.

"Can't wait to make you a mama, you'll look so pretty round with our baby" he declares with his hand on your tummy, pistoning his hips relentlessly as he fucks you into oblivion.

"Can't - ah — wait to make you a daddy, kook" you mutter between his harsh strokes, and it makes him feel feral. The words coming out of your mouth only gets him going more.

"S-shit, gonna fuck you every day till youre leaking with my seed for weeks." he enunciates with each thrust.

His words send you spiraling through your orgasm. His eyes glisten with lust as he watches you lose yourself all over him. "Fuck, baby you're perfect. Took it so well." he bends over to kiss you while he continues to fuck you through your climax, til his own follows not long after yours.

He stills, no longer pumping in you, and slowly pulls out, watching in awe the product of both your arousal spill from you.

"I love you" he whispers into your skin when he drops beside you pulling you into an embrace.

"i love you more, kook" he hides his face into your neck when he blushes.

"I hope it's a girl" he confesses out of the blue. "We don't even know if I'm pregnant yet" you giggle.

"Well you will be, I'll make sure of it," he says with certainty, and you wonder where this confidence comes from.

"Round two in the shower?" any ounce of timidness he had 30 seconds ago when you told him you loved him is gone. He is one feral man. Only for you.

A/N: need to have a 3sum w these 2

add yourself to the taglist.

find my masterlist here 𝜗𝜚⋆

[yeeterthek33per]

Get Her Back (Lucy Bronze x Reader)

A/n Requested

Warning(s): SMUT 18+ MDNI, Suggestive (duh), mild jealousy (squint a lil, its fine).

The sweat was starting to feel a little grosser today.

With the heat wave ripping through England perfectly on time with your international break, it seems that training became more the stuff of nightmares with the sun unbearable on your already tanned skin.

It seems that brought out the more interesting behaviours of your teammates because they were looking for ways to distract themselves from melting into the pitch or tile flooring of the changerooms.

Even with air conditioning, the room was ridiculously stuffy, twenty-three sweat dripped female football players crammed into a single ten metre by ten metre room.

That being said, the topic of exes came up amongst the lot of you.

Even worse, your ex.

Specifically, the one alotted to the cubby next to yours as they ribbed both of you.

"Weren't you and Lucy together, Y/n?"

Your cheeks flush and you roll your eyes good naturedly.

"Yeah, and?"

The girls ooo at you, and ever the shitstirrer, you poke said girl in the leg with your sock covered foot.

"Not much to talk about."

She raises a brow, a small smirk challenging you almost, knowing well you're only poking fun at her.

"Oh, come on now, there has to be something to talk about. You were together for so long."

Scoffing, you wave them away, getting ready for a shower finally.

You'd both previously taken it in stride, having dealt with their teasing while you were dating.

The fact your relationship hadn't ended all that badly, being blamed on the fact that you were just both separate for far too long, playing on different sides of the continent, was never really your strong suit.

So, it doesn't surprise you when the cocky behaviour comes out too.

Lucy, ever the flirt, jokes quietly in your ear when the attention shifts from you to Alessia at the quiet mention of a possible new relationship.

"Not much, eh? And here I was under the impression that I was the best you've ever had."

You snort, elbowing the older woman with a small glare.

"Please, far from it, Bronze."

You had half a mind to laugh at the offended look on her face.

There was no way she believed that, but now you had to stick to your guns because you'd never hear the end of it if you'd actually told her the truth.

It does something to her because the moment you're all returning to the bus, she's planted herself directly next to you, sitting in the aisle seat.

Raising a brow at her sudden insistence on being in your presence, which, if she even notices the look, she doesn't acknowledge it.

Settling in for the two hour or so long bus ride back to camp, your earphones go in, and your head leans back to rest your eyes for a minute.

It seems you don't get very far, though, because a hand on your knee stops you on your nap voyage.

Glancing down, you confirm your assumption in saying that said hand is connected to your seat buddy.

Though it seems she's not actually even looking at you, she's talking animatedly with Millie and Rachel (*a/n I am aware shes R worded from internationals but I'm not accepting that just yet y'all*), who are sat across the aisle and one seat behind, and shes turned in a way that blocks their view of you.

Replacing your earbuds, you think she's just being overtly touchy today and you don't bother her with it, not minding too much, the warmth a nice contrast to how the last year or so being single had gone.

You wake up about an hour or so later, removing your earbuds and notice the chatter has died down a little, Daly Brightness now chatting between themselves and Lucy turned back to face the front, eyes glued to the laptop in front of her, watching a rerun of House M.D. (idk it fit)

Her hand hasn't removed itself. It seems it's a little higher than it was, thumb moving of its own accord, gently stroking the bare skin below your shorts.

With the air con blasting through the bus, her hand feels almost scaulding against you, your skin burning underneath the gentle caresses.

Whether she noticed you're awake or not, you're not sure, but if she did, she doesn't do or say anything other than leave her hand right where it is.

You can't find it in you to mind.

--

That doesn't last very long.

It's almost three days later into the training camp and nothing more than simple touches besides what happened on the bus has happened between you.

Although, it's like there's these little touches constantly. You know they aren't accidental. If the five years you spent with Lucy were anything to go by, you know her well enough to know there isn't ever a touch that's accidental.

She's always on alert, head swivelling when she's walking, always cautious of her hands and who's around her.

With you, there's supposed absent-minded brushes of your lower back. Her fingertips occasionally grip your arms during training rondos. A squeeze of the shoulder here and there.

She doesn't let you sit on your own like you usually do, as someone who prefers to nap quietly in the front of the bus, her hand always finding it's place on your knee once more for every day of camp.

Nothing else changes, though.

It starts to drive you a little crazy because you'd gone every training camp for a year without dealing with this.

You hadn't minded initially, but it’s getting on your nerves now.

Not because you're uncomfortable or anything.

You, reluctantly, admit to yourself that you just aren't all that over the brunette, and her touching you like this isn't helping your cause.

You're rather annoyed it's only taken three days before she's got you wrapped around her finger again, heart racing at that damn smirk on her face when you guys talk or you even just so much as glance her way.

It takes all of three days before you confront her about it.

--

"Okay, what the hell is with you?"

"Eh?"

Lucy had been in the middle of her rec gym session. Particularly in the middle of doing her core workout, so she'd been in a plank stance when you'd stormed into the empty gym, half startling the defender.

Still, she looks up at you from her position on the mat, half confusion, half focused frown.

"Don't you 'eh' me, you know what I'm talking about."

"Kind of busy, princess, I have no idea-"

"That! Princess! When was the last time you ever called me that? Not just that, the touching, the thigh grabs, the-"

"Look, I'm a little preoccupied, as much as I'd love to have this-"

"No, I want an explanation, Lucy."

She groans as she drops the plank, mildly annoyed she'd have to have another crack at her record later.

"Okay, you want an explanation."

"Yes."

She stands, stepping towards you with determination.

"You said I wasn't the best, right?"

"What?"

"Now you're the one pretending, y/n. You have every idea of what I'm talking about here."

Of course you do. You're not telling her that willingly, though.

"I really-

Her hands find your waist, backing you into the mirrored wall behind you.

"You said I wasn't the best you've ever had. Who else could've loved you the way I did? Who else made you shiver and writhe underneath me the way I did?"

Her voice lowers as she tilts your head to look up at her.

"Who else could make you cum the way I did? Tell me, Princess."

The way your cheeks redden only serves to egg her on. Her gym attire today was only futhering that though, sports bra and shorts, sweat sheening her abdomen, one you had once unabashedly stared at for all of your relationship.

Now, though, you fought every instinct and craving in you to glance down.

It doesn't matter because her lips curl up into a knowing smirk at your internal battle.

Spitefully, you snap back.

"What makes you think you're the only one to do any of that?"

For a second, you see her confident demeanour faulter, but it returns but a second later.

"Because you wouldn't still be so affected by everything I'm doing. Nor would you let me keep doing it. I know you, Y/n. If you'd been even mildly uncomfortable with anything I was doing, you would have bitch-slapped me back to Belford."

She's right.

You'd never tolerated anyone doing anything you didn't want or ask for, always the first to call someone out on their bullshit.

She continues.

"The fact that you're in here, yelling at me about how much I'm driving you crazy-"

"I did not say-"

"You don't have to, Princess. I know your tells, I know when you're flustered, frustrated, angry, upset, sad, elated. I know you. And you know that. The fact you're in here, now, tells me everything I need to know."

For once, you don't know how to respond.

So you don't.

You just tug her down by the nape of her neck.

Damn Lucy and her sexy ass cocky smirk and her back-of-her-own-hand knowledge of everything about you.

Damn the way her lips meet yours halfway, anticipating the move.

Damn her fingers, digging into your hips, lifting you into her arms and settling under your thighs to press you into the wall.

Damn Lucy and her ability to make you fall right back into her like she'd never left you back in Manchester.

Despite your best efforts, you never really could get one step ahead of her.

She pulls away, much to your whines.

"So are you gonna answer me honestly, or do I have to do something about it."

You play coy, a small eyebrow raise, despite the mild heaving in your chest.

"I am the best you've had, no doubt."

"Prove it."

--

Despite your stubbornness earlier, you'd have no qualms telling the whole world you were truly and wholly Lucy's.

You'd scream it from the rooftops.

That she was the best and only one who could fuck like she does.

Especially right now.

"Such a good girl for me, Princess. You always have been."

It's a little stuttered between thrusts, hips meeting yours with every utter of the words of the sentence.

Her hand around your throat, gently squeezing, makes your head spin as she thrusts the strap into you deliciously.

Your eyes squeeze shut, ears zoning in on her panting, the way the bed squeaks under her ministrations, the far too obscene sound of skin on skin.

The wet sounds of your own cum and arousal on the silicone toy strapped to her hips.

It's all overwhelming and only serves to send you further into the oblivion that she's got you in right now.

Your moans are loud, biting your lip to hide them from bouncing off the walls of the hotel room.

Lucy, it seems, has made it her mission to put an end to that, because her hips snap a little harder against you, and her other hand moves to play with your clit, thumb pressing into it leaving you helplessly canting your hips to meet hers.

"Bet no one else could make you cum as hard as I do."

It throws you closer to the edge faster than you expect, and your mouth drops open fully.

"Look at me."

It's a single statement from her that makes your eyes snap open to look at her above you.

She's leant over you, just about bracing herself by your throat, and the constriction just pulls you further into her.

"Good girl, I want you to watch as you cum on my cock, pretty girl."

You don't even have to ask because she's got you over the edge before you can say "Please let me cum."

Trying your hardest to focus on the rapid way her strap disappears inside you, the feeling of the head rubbing your insides and pressing into every sensitive spot inside you.

One final breathless moan leaves you digging your nails into the sheets below you, thighs quivering around her, and she lets you pull her down onto you.

There's a gentle rock to her hips, letting you come down finally, a slow to the pace she'd set hours earlier, making you orgasm over and over until now.

When she goes to pull out, you stop her.

"Don't move yet."

She chuckles softly, pressing kisses to your collarbone and neck.

"I'm not going anywhere, baby."

She settles back on her haunches, though, pulling back with a small groan of appreciation of where your hips are joined.

"God, you're so sexy, taken me so well, haven't you?"

You whine softly, cheeks flushing somehow further under the praise.

She slowly withdraws, dropping the strap off the side of the bed, settling between your legs once more, head level with your hips now.

"I'm not sure if I can anymore, Lucy."

"You can, baby. One more for me."

Her mouth lowers to your cunt, the sensitivity making you buck a little in overstimulation.

Her tongue laps at you, taking in every drop of you with a small breathy groan. It dips insidd you, pressing you open again before moving back to wrap around your clit and suck.

She'd missed this.

She'd missed you.

And she tells you as such once you cum on her tongue again moments later.

You're shaking around her head, hair firmly grasped between your fingers, which finally manage to pull her away from your far from overstimulated clit as she kisses her way back up your stomach, chest and finally meets your lips.

It's soft, slow, and loving, and the taste of yourself on her lips makes you whine into her.

When you pull away, she steps up off the bed, leaving you shivering under the air conditioning, sweaty, sticky, and slightly embarrassed at how quickly you'd jumped back into bed with the woman, even after a whole year gone of not touching her.

That all disappears when she reappears from around the corner with a water bottle and a damp cloth, letting her wipe you down, letting out a small wince when she bumps your clit again.

"Sorry, Princess, I'm trying to be gentle."

"S'alright."

Your words are starting to slur as a wave of exhaustion hits you.

--

She's coming back from cleaning off the toy and disposing of the cloth when she spots your knocked out form on the bed, splayed out on your stomach, still naked as the day you were born, snoring softly into her pillow.

A soft chuckle leaves her, and she settles back into the mattress beside you, to which you immediately cling to her form, and her arms wrap around you, head tucked under her chin.

Lucy knows she's not over you.

Truthfully, she knew the whole time.

She'd tried.

Tried going on dates.

Tried finding solace in other women but none of them were you.

All she could think about in Barcelona was how much she missed you.

Being with you, touching you, kissing you, feeling you.

Everything about you.

Even your soft, scolding tone every time she left her boots by the door in the walkway or when she accidentally left your new toy out on the bedside table for your nosy nephews to find and turn into a rocket ship. (It was still clean, fresh out of the packaging.)

That day, you'd been especially red in the face when you spotted what little Jonathan was holding and had smacked a muffled laughing girlfriend of yours upside the head.

She'd missed the days you'd drag her out on evening walks along the streets. On long drives to the water's edge in Southport.

To walk along the pier and just talk about anything and everything. Or to just enjoy the silence away from the chaos of your lives.

The way you'd always have your arms open and ready when you'd both gotten home from a particularly rough game or training session.

The warmth of your hugs after freezing games in the night, despite having been out on that pitch yourself.

She might be Lucia Roberta Tough Bronze to everyone else, but she could let her guard down around you.

That was the best thing about you, she reckons.

How easily you crumbled her tough façade.

How soft she was with you.

She always loved you for that.

She still does.

The thought unsettles her a little.

Despite the fact you're naked in her hotel room bed, cuddle into her. She’s not entirely sure what this means for both of you.

Just that she wants you back more than anything.

She'd move back to England if you asked.

She knows you would never ask her of that, but she would anyway, she decides.

You meant everything to her. You mean everything to her. Still.

When you awake hours later, still curled into her sleeping form, pressing small lazy kisses to the underside of her jaw, they're pressed with soft loving words of affirmation, knowing it's what she needs to hear, even if you hadn't declared your relationship resumed just yet.

Though, you do that a couple hours after that, with your fingers curled inside her, asking her to be yours again.

--

[qlossytbh]

𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞 - 𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 working with the BAU team has always been challenging— but your suddenly disrupted by a case that hits close to home and you don’t know how to react when your past starts clawing at you.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 drinking, usual criminal minds content, mentions of dead bodies, mentions of murder, mentions of sexual assault, mentions of anxiety

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 3.7k

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 AHHH so the series has begun. this is based on this lovely request. i’m trying my hardest for things with the UnSub and the case to be as coherent as possible while the storyline progresses, so it’s very important to pay attention to names and your past ;)

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

"And that is your third drink of the night—" You reached over to Garcia's drink, ripping it from her lips as she tried puckering onto the straw before you could steal her of the drink she had rightfully purchased. Protests flowed out of her as you brought her drink to your own lips, taking a deep sip of the fruity alcoholic beverage, savoring the light flavors in your mouth. "At least share."

"Anyone tell you how boring you can be sometimes?" She slumped herself across the table complaining profusely at your antics.

"All the time actually," You shrugged. "And I'm not boring, I just don’t condone alcoholism."

"Says the one whos about to singlehandly down my drink," She rolled her eyes at the sound of your straw reaching the bottom of the glass with a slurp. You looked at the glass and shrugged your shoulders innocently.

"Oops,"

The whole BAU had finally decided to host another one of these team bonding activity's, and the vast majorty had agreed on hitting a bar that was near the downtown area, Morgan having been the main enthusiast at picking where the bonding would take place.

You thought it'd be fun honestly. It was unusual to see the group in an ambience that wasn't so full of anxiety and tension all the time. Of course, a joke or two would slip around the office, mainly through the jet rides but it was hard to lay back all the time when you were constantly chasing sadists and murderers around.

It had also been a while since you had gotten somewhat dressed up. A simple black squareneck bodysuit and some leather pants wasnt your biggest definition of getting dressed up, but you knew today was casual, so you didnt want to go completely out. You chose to instead settle for a outfit that'd allow you to blend in and some soft curls in your hair.

Everyone was in their own little comfortable bubble, which really allowed you to understand your co-workers and friends better. You watched how JJ and Emily chatted along a few other men on the further side of the bar, laughing at their antics and desperation when it came to obviously impress them. It was funny even from this side of the bar how badly the men were oggling them shamelessly.

Just as you were about to look for Derek, you felt someone clash between you and Garcia. "Well how are the two of the smokiest looking woman in this bar doin'?"

"I was just looking for you," You jabbed him with your elbow as he wrapped his arm around you. "Should've known you'd come crawling to look for us."

"By us, I hope you mean just me." Garcia butted in. Derek scoffed and allowed his arm to leave your shoulder and instead wrap both of his around the blonde that sat next to you on the bar stool.

"Pfft, you kidding?" He scoffed. "Don't' get me wrong, those pants look great on you sweetheart, but Garcia here's my one and only."

You let out a laugh at Morgans comment. He was a flirt, a natural one, it'd been just like this since you first arrived at the BAU all those years back. You however, were inmune to his charm, and he'd always been a brotherly figure to you. The two of you teased the other and often got into small discussions that were similar to that of a sibling dynamic. Nevertheless, you cared a lot for him.

"I'm going to take that as a compliment," You eyed Morgan, sipping through the straw of the recently emptied drink. He pinched your cheek as a familiar laugh left his mouth while you slapped his hand away.

Your eyes scanned the rest of the bar, allowing your shoulders to slouch ever so slightly. You swirled the small cubes of ice around in the glass, looking at them intently before Derek whistled low accompanied by a deep chuckle. "Looks like Boy genius is hitting jackpot over there."

Your eyes turned to where Derek was gesturing and you saw Spencer sitting at a small table with three other woman practically perched on his arms. You watched as his arms enthusiastically flew over the place. Garcia pitched in. "Well thats a first,"

You chuckled to yourself, not failing to notice how his mouth was moving at an unreadable pace, which probably meant he had already went into what you'd like to tease him as 'wikipedia mode'. His brows were furrowed and his lips were pursed as they moved inaudibly, the same way they always did when he rambled on about something.

"Look at my man go," Morgan cheered.

"He looks constipated.." Garcia squinted her eyes, noticing his nervous and tense posture as one woman grazed his forearm.

You and Spencer had gotten really close over the past few years. He was the first person you immediately hit it off with when you first arrived to the BAU a little over a year later than he had. It initially started when the two of you were unintentionally being paired in many cases together.

However, Hotch and at the time Gideon realized that putting both of your minds together was a power weapon in disguise— Both you and spencer were incredibly smart but very different. Spencer was very good with statistics and information, and you were good with reading people in great depth, which is why the two of you made such an outstanding team.

By being together all the time, you slowly started to get more comfortable around eachother and soon enough the two of you became inseperable. Wether it was getting coffee with eachother in the morning, or staying over later in the office to read over some unsolved cases, you and Spencer were attached at the hip as months went on. It had taken a while to crack his shell open, but slowly, you'd manadge for him to loosen up.

"Looks like that's my cue," You said standing up and dusting of your pants. Morgan and Garcia shared a look while you sighed heavily, watching how Spencer entirely short circuited when one of the girls reached up to tuck a loose strand of his hair behind his ear.

You knew Spencer had a thing with his personal space, but also having a heart of gold prevented him from having the guts to push these woman off. You could tell that he didn't desire their company or attention.

You rounded the bar and made your way to the table where Spencer desperately needed saving. Once you walked closer to them, the woman in the middle looked up with an unamused gaze and then Spencer's intimidated eyes met yours. You clicked your tongue, gesturing your chin to the side and insinuating them to take a hint.

"Sorry to interrupt ladies," You smiled tightly, crossing your arms. "I need to steal your boy candy for a bit."

"We're busy.." One of them said, smiling at you wickidly and she placed her hand on Spencer's shoulder. You groaned internally because your intentions weren't territorially driven and these woman felt some inescessary need to fight you for Spencers attention.

"I wasn't asking." You responded sharply, given them one final smile. Under the intensity of your gaze, the three woman finally cowered and got to their feet, walking away while tossing their hair back at you and spitting hateful glances towards you. You followed their trail with your eyes before looking back at Spencer and narrowing your eyes at him.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," He clasped his hands together, blabbering as you walked over and plopped into the seat next to him.

"Why is it that you always end up in these situations?" You looked over at him. "You have got to stop attracting the bitches.." You rested your elbow on the chair and tilted your chin towards him.

"They came and I didn't really know how to—" He started but cut himself off with a groan, slumping deeper in his chair and dragging his hands across his face. He peered at you through his fingers and you chuckled at him, looking down and shaking your head to yourself.

Spencer quickly noticed how your hair was lightly curled towards its ends and the makeup on your face was giving you a soft glowy hue. His eyes scanned your lightly tinted cheeks and eyelids, along with the long dark wisp of your eyelashes that deepened your gaze, not entirely used to seeing you like this. You finally looked up at him, and eyed him.

"What?" You laughed, shoving his arm lightly. He looked down and smiled to himself. When he looked back up at you, he opened his mouth, wanting to tell you all about the statistics of makeup and its history and evolution along the years to ease his nerves, but Derek's voice cut through the comfortable chattering the two of you were sitting in.

When you looked up at him, you saw JJ, Emily and Garcia standing alongside him, all having the same familiar expression on their face. Derek motioned towards his phone and you nodded your head understandingly. You knew that Rossi and Hotch had probably called everyone in due to a new case. You looked over at Spencer, sighing heavily. "Duty calls,"

Spencer stood up from his seat and grabbed your hand, helping you up from your own and letting his chest heave with disappointment. "Are we ever going to get a day off?"

You looked up at him and patted his chest. "Now that is a stupid question for someone as smart as you, Dr. Reid."

The whole team scattered into the conference room as Rossi held his phone to his ear and chatted stoically to someone, pacing back and forth the white board. You scanned Rossi's posture and the few pictures that were peeping out of a file and your brows furrowed.

"What do you think happened now?" You voiced, turning to Spencer, who scanned the room just as intently as you had beside you, hands deep in his pocket. Morgan, JJ and Parentiss had already fallen into their seats waiting for Rossi to hang up with whoever it is he was talking to. Spencer looked down at you and tightened his lips, shrugging slightly.

You hugged yourself as an unsettling feeling sat in the pools of your gut. There was something that happened to you often where you couldn't really voice a feeling into coherent words, but something about a situation seemed oddly off in your gut. The familiar feeling was currently bubbling inside of you and it evidently manifested onto your expression. You felt a hand on your shoulder accompanied by a light squeeze.

"You okay?" Spencer asked, furrowing his brows in concern. You quickly waved him off, smiling at him and taking in a deep breath.

"Yeah, just got a bad feeling,"

As Rossi hung up, you and Spencer made your way to your chairs. Spencer absentmindedly pulled yours out, allowing you to sit before him. You mumbled a quick 'thanks' before sitting down comfortably and turning your attention to Rossi with Spencer not far beside you.

"Sorry to interrupt team bonding but," Rossi shoved his phone into his pocket. "We've got trouble."

Rossi lifted the projector remote, turning on its contents and revealing a series of gruesome pictures. The photos showed what looked to be a couple, brutally slaughtered with blood splattered across the walls.

"Easton Green, 27 and Michael Green, 28, brutally slaughtered last night in their home here in Virginia," Rossi said scrolling through a few pictures of the couples body limply displayed across what looked like a bathroom. "Both victims received more than 20 stab wounds and both had their ring fingers severed. Due to autopsy reports, Easton had water in her lungs and Michael showed signs of sexual assault."

Your heart stopped in the back of your throat as Rossi read off the names of the victims, following with ID pictures of the two familiar faces you hadn't seen in a long period of time.

"A week ago, an almost identical murder took place." He punched the buttons on the small control, revealing a stomach churning picture. "Sarah Johnson, 28 and Adam Johnson, 28. The couple presented the same stab wounds and severed fingers, but no signs of sexual assault and no water in either of their lungs."

Your eyebrows were furrowed deeply as your mouth hung open, just slightly. You never thought you'd hear those names again, much less the way you had just right now.

"Both murders happened in their own houses and signs of forced entry are present." Rossi said.

"How do we know that these murders are connected?" JJ asked, scribbling mindlessly into her journal.

"We were able to make with the little evidence they've presented so far was that both couples had been recently married," Hotch pipped in. "The stab wounds are also identically the same, along with the way the bodies were left."

"So, wait, we have someone hunting around recently married couples?" Derek asked, brows furrowed tightly in curiosity.

"In a way that would explain why the ring fingers were severed..." Spencer quipped, scrolling through his files. You glanced over at him, watching the familiar furrow in his brow. He looked up. "Recently married couples wear their wedding bands on their ring fingers after the ceremony takes place. They're exchanged during the wedding ceremony and symbolize the couple's union and commitment to each other,"

"And with the severed fingers are probably the wedding bands," Derek blew out.

"If only the ring fingers are being cut off than maybe our UnSub probably has a personal vendetta with marriage in itself and is most definitely acting out of rage," Parentiss quipped in as well, crossing her arms over her chest. You looked from person to person as they all added in their analysis and group review, but you felt as if you couldn't keep up. Your brain had stopped working the second Easton and Michael had been named.

"We'd have to figure out how the UnSub is connected to the victims to be able to confirm that, and by that we'd have to connect the victims," Hotch uncapped a marker and turned to the board.

"Actually," You finally said. "All these victims went to North Virginia High School, the private school over by the upper east side of town."

The room fell silent as everyone's head turned to you. You froze momentarily, sinking into your seat while swallowing the bundle of embarrassment that seeped into you as the spotlight suddenly found your way. You signaled to the files "I, uhm— I used to go to school with these people."

"All four of them were in my class, I was actually friends with Easton. Sort of—" You shook your head. "—I haven't talked to her for years until well..."

 You looked over at the board and cringed internally.

"So were they together since high school?" Derek asked you, turning in his seat towards you. You pursed your lips in thought.

”Sort of," You flipped a page over onto it's back and pointed your finger to one of the lines. "Easton and Michael starting dating a year or two after graduation, but Sarah and Adam had been dating since sophomore year of college."

Your frown deepened, suddenly memories of your past flooding your head quicker than you anticipated. And quicker than you were prepared for. You rubbed your temple and laid back in your chair.

"Whoever the UnSub is could be connected to the class or school," You stated, deciding to fall silent until further notice. Hotch nodded in your direction, eyeing you suspiciously before Rossi began laying out a few more details of the case to which you couldn't completely pay attention to. Your hands fell into a nervous pattern of picking at the skin that sat comfortably on the side of your nails.

Spencer reached out from the side, placing one of his hands over both of your to prevent you from continuing your anxious habit. When you looked over at him, his gaze remained on Rossi and Hotch, eyebrows slightly furrowed yet expression completely relaxed as if he had not a single thought flowing around in his head. 

God knows you needed a bit of that. You glared at him but with a huff of surrender, you slouched further into your chair, allowing your fingers to dance along with Spencers underneath the table and away from anyone else's view.

After about thirty minutes of placing down a starters plan to the case and more unnecessary stuff that you weren’t all too interested in paying attention to, everyone in the team was dismissed. You snapped out of your trance, suddenly realizing that everyone was standing up and getting ready to leave. 

"You in there?" Spencer called out from beside you as he shoved his paperwork into his familiar satchel. You hummed offering him a quick, forced smile. 

"Yeah," You threw your bag over your shoulder. Spencer stopped you with a firm hand as you attempted leaving the room. He gave you a knowing look, clearly not even impressed by your poor attempt at running away from his worried gaze. 

"I’m fine Spence," You said, tilting your head slightly to the side. "I’ll tell you about it in the car,"

When you and Spencer first started to get along, both of you had realized that your lived not far from the other. A fifteen, maybe twenty minute car ride from the others place at most. When Spencer found out you usually took the train to get home, he insisted on dropping you off every evening after work. At first, it was a bit awkward, due to the fact that none of you knew anything about the other, opting for plugging your AUX cord into your phone and playing music to distract yourself from the silence. But now, things were different and things were everything but uncomfortable

"Y/N," Hotchs voice cut through the air thickly. "A minute?”

Your head snapped over to Hotch. You tensed, looking back over Spencer to which he tightened his lips, giving you a look full of sympathy. You assured him with a nod in the direction of the door. "I’ll catch up with you," 

With a final nod, Spencer left the room, closing the door behind you. You tensed your fingers at your side and swiftly patted the sides of your pants. You suddenly felt intimidated by Hotchs presence. It made you incredibly panicky not knowing why he called you to stay behind. Hotch had always been someone you found hard reading.

"Whats up?" You asked walking up to him and gripping at the strand of your bag.

"Are you okay?" You furrowed your eyebrows, jerking back slightly. Now that was definitely not what you had expected. 

"What..?" You asked, profusely confused as to where his question was coming form. He continued, organizing the files that were left on the meeting table.

"I asked if you were okay," He paused turning towards you. "If you’re going to be in conditions to work this case—“

You invoulintarily let out a laugh, to which you clamped shut in embarrassment at Hotchs unnamused glare. “Sorry..”

You shifted on your toes and sighed heavily. You understood that this sudden revelation may make people think this could effect your performance in the case. I mean, these were people you spent all four years of high school with and to any logical human being, in a sense, it would be emotionally impacting if ex-classmates were being executed one by one. 

But Hotch knew very little about your past. No one did. So with a firm nod you looked over at Hotch. "I am perfectly capable of working on this case Hotch."

“I didn’t doubt your capability,” He stared at you intently. “I asked if you were okay to work on the case,”

You stopped, watching him slowly try to weave his way into the truth of what these people actually meant to you. But you quickly shot him a smile, blocking him out and preventing him from seeing what was going on in the inside of your head.

“Yes, I am.” His eyes scanned yours, and with a simple sigh he shook his head and finally dismissed you from the room.

The case did not effect you in the slightest, and you weren’t lying about that. It was just very shocking finding out that someone who used to be your best friend was slaughtered to death. But you knew that nothing— no even the people who used to go to school with you were going to put a halt to your job, much less when you love doing said job so much.

You said your final goodbye to Hotch and walked over to the door, exiting it carefully. When you turned your back to the closed door, you found Spencer sitting against one of the desks. You crossed your arms and glared at him. 

"You should’ve gone home," You said. He pursed his lip, cocking his brows with amusement laced in his features. "I could’ve taken the train.”

You turned on your heels and allowed him to follow beside you. Spencer let out a laugh, throwing his head back. You beamed at his smile. 

"That’s funny," He said, looking down at you as both of you made your way to the elevator. "Did you know that transit riders, especially women, are often victims of a wide range of offenses of a sexual nature that happen on, as well as at bus stops and train stations."

You looked up at him with an unamused look, knowing he was doing this just to prove a point. He opted to continue. "Verbal harassment is the most common form of harassment, with 41% experiencing "obscene/harassing language" and 26% being subjected to sexual comments. Among non-verbal types of harassment, 22% had been stalked and 18% had been victims of—“

"Okay fine!" You exhasperated. "I wouldn’t have taken the train anyways, I have my personal choufer with me."

You patted his arm with a smile on your face as you rolled your eyes at his triumphal grin. Once the elevator door opened you pursed your lips. "Can I at least pay those 25 dollars of gas?"

He looked forward as the elevator door closed, scoffing. "Not a chance.”

[w1w2]

The Echo of an Ordinary Girl

Irene x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ca. 17K

Genre: Fluff

Synopsis: After years of relentless work, Y/N’s promotion celebration takes a surprising turn when a chance encounter leads her to an exclusive idol party. There, she catches the attention of Irene from Red Velvet, sparking a quiet yet profound connection.

English isn’t my first language so I apologize in advance for any mistakes.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

A soft snow had started to fall, casting a glittering veil over the bustling streets of Seoul. Y/N pulled her coat tighter as she stepped out of the sleek glass doors of her company’s headquarters. The cold bit at her cheeks, but she didn’t mind; the warmth of her success was more than enough to keep her spirits high.

Earlier that day, during the morning briefing, she had been officially promoted to Manager—a position she had worked tirelessly toward since moving to Seoul three years ago. The congratulatory emails and warm smiles from her colleagues had left her feeling both accomplished and reflective. She thought of her journey from Europe to South Korea, the challenges she faced, and how this moment was a testament to her determination.

Reaching the curb to hail a cab, Y/N adjusted her glasses, the sleek frames resting perfectly on her subtly arched brows, framing her thoughtful green eyes. There was a calm intensity in her gaze, a reflection of the emotional intelligence and quiet confidence that had carried her through the hurdles of her career. Her lips curled into a small, genuine smile as she glanced at her phone buzzing in her pocket.

It was a message in the group chat she shared with her three closest friends in Seoul:

Soojin: Manager Y/N! That title looks good on you. We’re celebrating tonight, no excuses!

Jiho: Seriously, you deserve a night out! We’ve got something special planned, so don’t even think about canceling.

Minji: Wear something cute, but don’t go overboard. You know we’ll be late if you overthink it.

Y/N chuckled softly, tucking her phone back into the crossbody bag slung across her shoulder. She had learned early on that arguing with her friends was pointless. Their love for celebrations—and for her—meant she was in for an evening she wouldn’t soon forget.

Later that night, Y/N stepped out of the cab in front of a well-known bar nestled in the vibrant district of Itaewon. The neon sign above the entrance flickered invitingly, reflecting off the light snow that continued to fall.

Her outfit was both stylish and understated, a perfect blend of her practical nature and subtle flair. She wore ripped jeans paired with a crisp shirt that emphasized her toned upper body—her hard-earned muscles a quiet testament to her dedication to maintaining balance in her hectic life. Over the outfit, she’d thrown on a high-fashion jacket, the perfect mix of casual and refined. Rings adorned her fingers, adding a touch of edge to her ensemble, while her dark blond hair fell loosely in soft, straight strands, catching the faint glow of the streetlights.

As she approached the bar, her eyes scanned the crowd, immediately spotting her friends standing near the entrance. Their excited waves and cheerful grins brought a warmth to her heart that rivaled the glow of her earlier success. Tonight wasn’t just about celebrating her promotion—it was about embracing the life she had built, surrounded by the people who made it all worthwhile.

“Finally!” Soojin exclaimed, pulling Y/N into a warm hug. “We thought you’d back out and bury yourself in work.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” Y/N replied, grinning. “Not with you three plotting against me.”

Minji gave her a once-over, nodding approvingly at Y/N’s outfit. “Good. You look the part of a manager who knows how to let loose.”

Jiho, ever the planner, led the way inside. “Okay, ladies. Follow me. I know a guy.”

The bar was packed, the sound of laughter and clinking glasses filling the air. True to Jiho’s word, they were quickly ushered upstairs to the VIP section, a cozy yet sophisticated suite overlooking the main floor.

“How do you always manage this?” Y/N asked as they settled into plush seats.

Jiho winked. “Let’s just say I have connections.”

The night unfolded in a whirlwind of laughter and clinking glasses, the lively hum of the bar providing the perfect backdrop for their celebration. Y/N found herself loosening up as her friends swapped stories and jokes, their energy infectious. The VIP suite was intimate but elegant, with plush seating, dim lighting, and a panoramic view of the bustling main floor below.

Jiho had ordered a round of signature cocktails for the table—colorful concoctions served in ornate glasses that seemed almost too fancy to drink. “To success!” Jiho proclaimed, lifting her bright blue martini high in the air.

“To Y/N!” Minji countered, standing up dramatically and holding her glass aloft. Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she added, “The most hardworking, badass Manager we know!”

Soojin, always quick to join in, tapped her glass against Minji’s. “And don’t forget the most loyal friend and terrible dancer.”

“Hey! I’m not that bad!” Y/N protested with a mock glare, though her laughter quickly broke through.

“To Y/N!” they all echoed, their voices rising above the noise of the bar as their glasses met with a satisfying clink. Y/N felt a warmth spread through her—not from the alcohol but from the love and pride radiating from the people around her. In the three years she’d spent in Seoul, these people had become her rock, a second family that reminded her she wasn’t navigating this city alone.

“You’ve earned this, Y/N,” Jiho said earnestly, her hand resting on Y/N’s shoulder. “All those late nights, the way you push yourself—you inspire us.”

“And now,” Soojin added, nudging Y/N playfully, “you get to bask in the glory of our undivided attention and terrible drinking habits.”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “You three are impossible. But thank you—for tonight, for everything.”

As the drinks continued to flow, their stories became more animated, the jokes increasingly ridiculous. Jiho shared a tale of her most awkward client interaction, which had Minji practically in tears from laughing too hard. Soojin, ever the dramatist, acted out an exaggerated rendition of a failed first date, complete with over-the-top gestures that had the entire table roaring.

But as the night went on, Y/N felt the need to step away, to breathe in the quiet pride swelling in her chest. “I’ll be right back,” she said, standing and smoothing her jacket.

“Don’t get lost!” Minji called after her, raising her glass.

The crisp December air filled Y/N’s lungs as she stepped outside the bar’s back entrance. A faint glow from the streetlights reflected off the freshly fallen snow, giving the alley a serene, otherworldly feel. She leaned against the brick wall, fishing out a cigarette from her pocket and lighting it with a quick flick of her lighter.

This was her night—a culmination of years of hard work, late nights, and moments of doubt. It was a small victory, but one that reminded her she was capable of more than she sometimes gave herself credit for. A sense of contentment washed over her as she tilted her head back, gazing at the snowflakes drifting lazily down from the dark sky.

The quiet moment didn’t last long. A few meters away, muffled voices rose into a heated exchange. Y/N squinted, noticing three figures huddled around a man near the alley’s edge.

“Just one more photo! Come on, you owe us that much for waiting!” one of the voices demanded, sharp and insistent.

“I already took photos with you and gave the autographs,” the man replied, his tone calm but laced with frustration. “I’d appreciate some privacy now.”

The fans ignored him, stepping closer, their voices growing louder and more aggressive.

“Why are you being so rude now? Do you think you’re too good for your fans?”

Y/N’s eyes narrowed. She didn’t recognize the man at first, but his discomfort was clear. Her instinct to protect kicked in. Without a second thought, she stubbed out her cigarette and walked toward the group.

“Hey!” she called, her voice firm. The fans turned, startled by the interruption.

“Who are you?” one of them snapped, glaring at her.

“Someone who’s not afraid to call the police,” Y/N shot back, pulling out her phone. She locked eyes with the man they were harassing, silently asking if he was okay. He gave her a small, almost imperceptible nod.

“You don’t even know what’s going on,” another fan spat.

“I know enough,” Y/N replied, her voice steady. “You’ve been harassing him, and if you don’t leave now, I’ll make sure this alley is swarming with cops in minutes. Your choice.”

The trio exchanged uncertain glances before finally backing off. “Whatever,” one of them muttered, turning to leave.

As the fans disappeared down the street, the man let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you,” he said, his voice warm with gratitude.

“No problem,” Y/N replied, slipping her phone back into her pocket. “You okay?”

“I am now,” he said, offering a small smile.

Now that the tension had eased, Y/N got a better look at him. His stylish clothes, perfectly tousled hair, and unmistakable aura of confidence made recognition click. Her eyes widened slightly. “Wait… you’re Key, right? From SHINee?”

He nodded, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Guilty as charged.”

Y/N felt a wave of embarrassment but quickly brushed it aside. “I didn’t recognize you right away. Sorry about those fans.”

“Don’t apologize,” Key said. “You handled that better than most people would. I owe you one.”

“Don’t worry about it. I just hate seeing people being cornered like that,” Y/N replied.

Key chuckled softly. “You’re not like most people I meet.”

As they stood there, Key glanced back at the bar. “I was just here to pick up some bottles of my favorite drink for a party. It’s imported, and the owner’s an old friend who keeps it in stock for me.” He hesitated before continuing, “Actually… you and your friends should come. It’s going to be an idols and stuff get-together, but I think you’d fit right in.”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard. “I don’t know about that. My friends and I aren’t exactly… your usual crowd.”

Key tilted his head, a playful smirk forming. “You helped me out when you didn’t have to. Consider it my way of saying thanks.”

Before Y/N could respond, the door behind her swung open. Jiho, Minji, and Soojin appeared, their laughter filling the alley.

“There you are!” Jiho said, her eyes narrowing as she noticed Key. “Wait… is that…?”

Key gave a small wave. “Hi.”

“Holy—” Minji began, but Soojin elbowed her before she could finish.

“Your friend here is amazing,” Key said, gesturing toward Y/N. “I was just inviting you all to a party tonight.”

“A party?” Soojin asked, her eyes lighting up.

“Yes,” Key confirmed. “It’s at a villa not too far from here. Exclusive, private, and plenty of fun. What do you think?”

Y/N hesitated, glancing at her friends. Jiho’s excited nod and Minji’s wide grin made it clear they were already on board.

“C’mon, Y/N,” Soojin urged. “When are we ever going to get another chance like this?”

Y/N sighed, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Okay. Why not?”

Key grinned. “Great. Let’s go.”

A sleek black van pulled up moments later, and the group piled in, their excitement bubbling over as the van drove off into the night.

The van glided smoothly through the snow-dusted streets, leaving the bustling nightlife of Itaewon behind. Y/N gazed out of the window, her mind wandering between disbelief and curiosity. Her friends, on the other hand, were practically buzzing with excitement.

“Did you see the interior of this van?” Jiho whispered loudly, nudging Minji. “This isn’t just luxury—it’s idol-level luxury.”

“We’re literally heading to an idol party,” Minji replied, grinning. “How is this even real?”

Key, seated comfortably at the front, glanced back with a smile. “You’ll see soon enough. It’s just a little gathering, but I think you’ll enjoy it.”

As they turned into a gated community, the surroundings shifted. The streets were lined with towering villas, their architecture sleek and modern. The van stopped in front of a sprawling property, its façade illuminated by soft, golden lights. Snow shimmered like diamonds on the manicured lawn.

The driver opened the door, and the group stepped out onto the cobblestone driveway, their breath visible in the crisp night air. Y/N paused, taking a moment to absorb the sight before her. The villa was nothing short of breathtaking, a modern architectural marvel nestled in one of Seoul’s most exclusive neighborhoods.

Its façade was a seamless blend of sleek glass panels and natural stone, the warm golden lights from within spilling onto the manicured grounds. The building rose in staggered levels, each section connected by terraces adorned with elegant wrought-iron railings. Vines with winter berries clung to the lower stone walls, adding a touch of charm to the contemporary design.

The large floor-to-ceiling windows offered tantalizing glimpses of the party inside—silhouettes of people laughing, mingling, and dancing under ambient lighting that shifted in soft hues of purple and gold. A grand staircase swept up to the main entrance, flanked by tall, meticulously trimmed evergreen trees wrapped in twinkling fairy lights. It felt like stepping into a dream, a world far removed from the bustling streets of the city they’d just left behind.

To the right of the villa, Y/N noticed a sleek infinity pool that shimmered even in the winter chill, its edges blending seamlessly with the view of the sprawling city below. The snow-dusted patio surrounding it was dotted with clusters of modern outdoor furniture and heat lamps, where a few guests braved the cold to chat and sip their drinks.

“It’s like something out of a movie,” Jiho murmured, her voice tinged with awe as her gaze swept over the scene.

“More like a music video,” Soojin quipped, nudging Minji. “Think we’ll end up in the background of someone’s Instagram story tonight?”

Minji rolled her eyes but grinned. “If we’re lucky.”

Y/N shook her head with a soft laugh, her initial hesitation about coming here momentarily forgotten. The villa exuded an atmosphere of exclusivity and indulgence, yet there was an undeniable warmth to it, as if it invited you to step closer and be part of the magic inside.

“Let’s not stand here gawking all night,” Jiho said, tugging Y/N gently toward the staircase. “Key didn’t invite us just to freeze out here.”

With one last glance at the dazzling exterior, Y/N followed her friends up the stairs, her heart pounding with a mix of curiosity and anticipation for what awaited them beyond those glass doors.

“Here we are,” Key announced, leading the way. At the entrance, a pair of well-dressed security guards stood by, clipboards in hand. Key spoke to them briefly, gesturing toward Y/N and her friends.

“They’re with me,” he said confidently.

The guards nodded, and one of them opened the door. “Enjoy the evening.”

As they stepped inside, the warmth of the villa enveloped them. The interior was just as stunning as the exterior. Floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a breathtaking view of the city lights below.

Key turned to them with an easy smile. “The bar’s in the kitchen. Drinks are on me. Have fun!”

“Wait, you’re not sticking with us?” Soojin asked, feigning a pout.

Key chuckled. “I’ll see you around. Gotta make my rounds first.” With that, he disappeared into the crowd, leaving the group to fend for themselves.

Following Key’s directions, the group made their way to the kitchen, which had been transformed into a sleek bar setup. Bottles of every kind lined the counters, and a bartender stood ready to mix drinks. The space buzzed with energy as idols and their friends mingled, their laughter blending seamlessly with the upbeat music.

As Y/N and her friends approached the sleek marble bar, a pair of familiar faces caught their attention. Jeon Somi and Giselle from Aespa stood side by side, their radiant appearances drawing casual glances from other guests. They were deep in lighthearted conversation, their laughter blending seamlessly with the background hum of the party.

Jiho’s jaw dropped, her eyes widening in disbelief. “Is that—?”

“Yes,” Y/N whispered quickly, cutting her off before Jiho’s excitement could spill over.

Somi was striking as always, her blonde hair styled in loose waves that cascaded over her shoulders. She wore a shimmering silver mini-dress with a plunging neckline, paired with towering heels that accentuated her already statuesque frame. Her makeup was flawless, her glossy lips curved into an inviting smile as her sharp, cat-like eyeliner added an extra edge to her features. She looked every bit the superstar she was—bold, confident, and effortlessly glamorous.

Beside her, Giselle exuded a more understated elegance. Her sleek pink hair framed her face perfectly, softening the angles of her jawline. She wore a tailored blazer dress in deep emerald green, cinched at the waist with a belt that highlighted her figure. Her look was paired with chunky ankle boots, adding a playful edge to her refined style. Subtle gold jewelry caught the light as she moved, her demeanor cool and approachable.

Noticing the newcomers, Somi’s gaze flickered to them, and she flashed a bright, friendly smile. “Hey there! You’re new faces.”

Y/N’s heart skipped slightly at the casual warmth in her tone, but Minji stepped forward first, her voice a mix of excitement and nervousness. “We just got here. This place is amazing.”

“It’s something, isn’t it?” Giselle chimed in, her tone easy and welcoming as her sharp eyes quickly scanned the group. “Are you here with Key?”

Y/N nodded, regaining her composure. “Yeah, we ran into him earlier, and he invited us.”

“Well, Key has good taste,” Somi said with a wink, the corner of her mouth tugging upward in a mischievous grin. “I’m Somi, by the way. And this is Giselle.”

Giselle gave a small wave, her smile soft but genuine. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Y/N and her friends introduced themselves in turn, their initial awkwardness melting under the idols’ casual, welcoming presence. Somi leaned slightly against the bar as they spoke, her interest piqued by the group’s easy camaraderie. “So, what do you guys do?” Giselle asked, her curiosity clearly genuine.

“We’re just regular people,” Y/N replied with a modest smile, her voice steady. “I work in logistics, and these troublemakers are my friends.”

“Troublemakers?” Somi echoed with a laugh, her tone playful. “I like them already.”

Minji grinned, her confidence growing. “Y/N’s the serious one in our group. The rest of us? Chaos. Total chaos.”

“Oh, I can tell,” Giselle said with a knowing smirk, her gaze shifting to Jiho, who was still star-struck. “But it’s good. Regular people with a little chaos? That’s refreshing.”

The bartender arrived with Somi and Giselle’s drinks—Giselle’s a dark cocktail garnished with a twist of orange peel and Somi’s a vibrant pink concoction that matched her bold personality. Y/N couldn’t help but notice the casual way they carried themselves, despite the aura of celebrity that clung to them.

“So, do you guys party often, or is this a once-in-a-blue-moon thing?” Somi asked, swirling her drink as she leaned forward slightly.

Jiho, emboldened by the atmosphere, answered quickly. “We celebrate when we can. Tonight’s special—it’s Y/N’s big promotion!”

“A promotion?” Giselle’s brows rose, her interest clearly piqued. “That’s amazing. Congrats, Y/N.”

“Thanks,” Y/N said with a bashful smile, ducking her head slightly. “It’s been a long road, but worth it.”

Somi raised her glass, her smile turning almost conspiratorial. “Well, that calls for another toast. To promotions, new friends, and a night to remember.”

Y/N raised her own glass with a small smile, her earlier nervousness fading. “Cheers to that.”

The group clinked their glasses, and as the conversation flowed effortlessly, Y/N felt a sense of ease settle over her. Somi’s humor and Giselle’s grounded nature made the idols feel less like untouchable stars and more like people she could genuinely connect with.

“You guys are fun,” Somi declared after a sip of her drink, her gaze sparkling with mischief. “Stick with us tonight. We’ll make sure you have a great time.”

“Careful what you promise,” Y/N teased lightly, her grin matching Somi’s.

The low hum of music and laughter spilled from the various rooms of the villa, but it was the karaoke room that drew Somi’s attention. After finishing their drinks, she turned to Y/N and her friends with a wide grin.

“Alright, karaoke time!” Somi announced, grabbing Y/N’s arm.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, amused. “We just got here. Shouldn’t we, you know, mingle?”

“You can’t hide that voice forever,” Soojin chimed in, nudging her teasingly.

“What voice?” Somi asked, her curiosity piqued.

“Oh, she’s amazing,” Minji said, her eyes sparkling. “But she’s shy about it. You’ll have to drag her up there.”

“That’s all I needed to hear,” Somi declared. “Let’s go.”

Y/N groaned playfully but couldn’t suppress her smile as Somi led the way with an infectious energy, her friends trailing behind them. The hallway leading to the karaoke room grew quieter, the distant hum of the party fading as they approached. When Somi pushed open the door, Y/N’s eyes widened slightly, taking in the scene before her.

The karaoke room was a cozy yet vibrant haven nestled within the sprawling villa. It was spacious but designed with an intimate feel, the walls lined with plush, velvet-textured panels that absorbed sound and gave the room a luxurious warmth. A massive TV mounted on one wall displayed an animated karaoke menu, its neon colors contrasting against the dim lighting.

The ceiling featured a constellation of tiny, twinkling LED lights, creating the illusion of a starry night above. Along the perimeter of the room, colorful LED accents pulsed faintly to the beat of the music, shifting between deep blues, soft purples, and occasional bursts of gold, casting an ever-changing glow on the occupants.

A semi-circular arrangement of plush leather sofas wrapped around the room’s center, their deep cushions inviting guests to sink in and relax. In front of the TV, a small raised platform served as the makeshift “stage,” complete with two cordless microphones resting on sleek stands. A marble minibar was tucked into one corner, stocked with an array of drinks, from sparkling water to imported liquors, with an elegant countertop illuminated by soft under-lighting.

The air carried a subtle blend of scents—faint notes of citrus from the cocktails and the lingering warmth of expensive cologne. A handful of other partygoers were already there, sprawled comfortably on the sofas, laughing and singing along to the current performance. The karaoke system was state-of-the-art, seamlessly syncing lyrics to music videos displayed in vivid clarity on the screen.

The atmosphere was relaxed yet charged with the kind of energy only found at gatherings where inhibitions were left at the door. The hum of music mingled with bursts of applause and occasional laughter, creating an environment that felt alive, yet somehow comforting.

“This place is insane,” Minji whispered as they stepped inside, her gaze darting from the starry ceiling to the stocked minibar.

“Why am I not surprised?” Soojin added, her voice low as she took in the luxurious details. “Leave it to idols to make karaoke feel like a five-star experience.”

Somi turned back to them, her grin wide as she gestured toward the stage. “Alright, who’s up first?”

Y/N couldn’t resist rolling her eyes as her friends all looked at her expectantly. “Don’t even think about it.”

“Too late!” Jiho teased, nudging her forward. “You’re the singer in the group. It’s your destiny.”

“Destiny?” Y/N groaned, laughing despite herself. “I thought we were here to relax.”

Somi leaned in conspiratorially. “Relaxation is overrated. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Before Y/N could protest further, Somi grabbed the remote and flipped through the song list, then turned to Y/N. “How about we do a duet? Something fun to break the ice?”

Y/N hesitated, glancing at her friends, who were all grinning at her. “Fine,” she relented with a sigh. “What do you have in mind?”

“‘APT.’ by Rose and Bruno Mars.” Somi said confidently.

Y/N laughed softly. “Alright. Deal.”

As the first notes of “APT.” filled the room, a few heads turned toward the stage out of casual curiosity. The vibrant, synth-driven beat and playful energy of the song were impossible to ignore, and Somi wasted no time diving into her part.

“Kissy face, kissy face, sent to your phone, but, I’m tryna kiss your lips for real,” Somi sang, her voice light and flirtatious as she swayed effortlessly to the rhythm. She twirled on the stage, her blonde hair catching the colorful lights as she pointed cheekily at the crowd. The room buzzed with her energy, and a few partygoers began clapping in time with the beat.

Y/N leaned into the microphone for her turn, her voice steady yet filled with a quiet confidence. “Red hearts, red hearts, that's what I'm on, yeah, come give me somethin' I can feel, oh-oh, oh,” she sang, her soulful tone adding depth to the playful lyrics.

As they moved into the pre-chorus, their voices blended seamlessly. “Don't you want me like I want you, baby? Don’t you need me like I need you now? Sleep tomorrow, but tonight, go crazy, all you gotta do is just meet me at the…” Their harmonies rang out, drawing more attention from the room.

By the time the chorus hit, the energy in the room had shifted completely. “아파트, 아파트, 아파트, 아파트, uh, uh-huh, uh-huh,” they sang in unison, Somi’s vibrant tone and Y/N’s rich, resonant voice weaving together effortlessly. Y/N allowed herself to relax into the performance, swaying to the rhythm and exchanging playful glances with Somi.

On the second verse, Somi turned the spotlight fully onto Y/N, stepping back with a grin as Y/N picked up the next lines. “It's whatever, it's whatever, it's whatever you like,” Y/N sang, her voice gaining strength as she swayed to the rhythm, her green eyes sparkling under the room’s dim lighting. The playful edge in her delivery was undeniable as she leaned into the next line, “Turn this 아파트 into a club, I'm talkin' drink, dance, smoke, freak, party all night,” adding a touch of charm and mischief that made the audience sit up and take notice.

The shift in the room was palpable. Conversations paused mid-sentence, heads turned, and people began clapping along with the beat. Even those who hadn’t initially been paying attention were now fully captivated by the chemistry and energy on stage.

Near the minibar, Red Velvet’s Wendy looked up from her drink, her eyes narrowing slightly in curiosity as she leaned toward Irene. “Who is that?” she murmured, gesturing toward the stage.

Irene, who had been watching the performance with quiet intensity, didn’t respond immediately. Her gaze lingered on Y/N, drawn in by the ease with which she commanded the song. Y/N’s stage presence was magnetic—her voice rich and controlled, her every movement natural yet captivating. She wasn’t just singing; she was performing as if she belonged on a stage.

As the song reached its bridge, Y/N and Somi both leaned into the mics, their voices intertwining effortlessly. “Hey, so now you know the game, are you ready? 'Cause I'm comin' to get ya, get ya, get ya,” they sang, their playful delivery eliciting cheers from the crowd. Somi twirled again, encouraging the onlookers to clap along, while Y/N’s voice carried the weight of the next line: “Hold on, hold on, I’m on my way… yeah, yeah, yeah-yeah, yeah, I’m on my way…”

By the final chorus, the room was fully alive with energy. The crowd clapped and swayed to the infectious beat, and even the idols who had been lounging on the sofas were now leaning forward, their attention firmly fixed on the stage.

“아파트, 아파트, 아파트, 아파트, uh, uh-huh, uh-huh,” the two sang together, their voices blending in a vibrant crescendo that brought the performance to a powerful close. The final note lingered in the air for a beat before the room erupted into cheers and applause.

Somi, slightly breathless but grinning wide, threw an arm around Y/N. “Okay, okay, I see you!” she teased into the mic. “We’ve got a superstar in the house tonight!”

Y/N, her cheeks flushed from the attention, laughed and shook her head as she handed the microphone back. “I think you’re exaggerating,” she said modestly, though the sparkle in her eyes betrayed her exhilaration.

“Exaggerating? Please,” Somi shot back with a smirk, addressing the crowd. “Y’all saw that, right? She owned it.”

Amidst the laughter and applause, Y/N glanced at her friends, who were practically bouncing with excitement. 

Somi grabbed the microphone with a flourish, her grin wide and mischievous. Turning to the room, she waved her hand theatrically. “Alright, she’s warmed up now. Time to let her shine.”

Y/N shot her a look that was half-glare, half-smile. “You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?”

Somi smirked, scrolling through the song list. “Oh, you’ll thank me later.” Her eyes lit up when she found her choice. She turned the screen toward Y/N with a playful glint in her eye, selecting Seulgi’s “28 Reasons.”

Y/N groaned softly, running a hand through her hair. “You’re evil.”

“Exactly,” Somi whispered with a wink, handing her the mic as the first haunting notes of the song filled the room. A soft whistle echoed through the speakers, followed by the deep, hypnotic bassline that set the tone. The playful yet ominous melody seemed to hum with tension, pulling the room into its orbit.

Taking a deep breath, Y/N stepped forward, her entire demeanor shifting. As if a switch had flipped, she stood taller, her eyes narrowing with focus. The playful edge from her previous performance was gone, replaced by a poised, commanding presence. With the mic in hand, she became someone else entirely—intense, magnetic, and impossible to look away from.

Her voice slid into the first line, sultry and deliberate. “I kiss your brother, 그 맘 훔쳐, 독이 퍼져도 못 느껴, my pleasure.” The rich timbre of her voice sent a ripple through the room, her delivery both teasing and dangerous, perfectly capturing the song’s duality. Her gaze swept across the crowd, lingering just long enough to draw them into the story of the lyrics.

“짓궂은 반칙, 떨리는 눈빛, 그런 널 보는 게 참 재밌어, 웃겨,” she sang, her tone playful yet dripping with wicked amusement. Her movements were subtle but purposeful—a small step forward, a tilt of her head, the faintest curve of her lips. It wasn’t over-the-top; it was controlled, calculated, and utterly entrancing.

As the pre-chorus began, Y/N’s voice softened, drawing the audience closer. “Ooh, ooh, I'm breaking every rule 자꾸만 괴롭히고 싶은걸” she sang, her tone haunting and deliberate. The room seemed to hold its breath, the pulsing LED lights reflecting off her figure as she moved fluidly with the music. The tension in her delivery perfectly matched the song’s groovy bassline, her voice weaving between playful temptation and subtle danger. Every syllable carried the duality of the song’s themes—good and evil, attraction and chaos.

By the time she hit the chorus, the energy in the room had shifted entirely. “널 망친 28 reasons 몰라도 돼, 나쁜 의도 없어 내겐, 도망칠 28 reasons 다 아는데, 왜 또다시 내게 기대?” Her voice soared effortlessly, powerful and precise, capturing the delicate balance of innocence and mischievous intent. Her performance seemed to radiate a duality that echoed the very essence of the song—a mix of allure and danger, seduction and defiance.

Some of the partygoers began swaying in time with the music, their earlier chatter completely forgotten. A few idols had moved closer to the stage, their eyes fixed on Y/N as if trying to figure out how a “regular” guest could exude such star-like energy.

In the back of the room, Seulgi was leaning forward, her excitement unmistakable. She nudged Irene, her voice barely above a whisper. “She’s singing my song. And she’s good.”

Irene didn’t respond immediately. Her gaze remained locked on Y/N, her expression unreadable but undeniably intrigued. The way Y/N embodied the song—the subtle interplay of light and shadow in her delivery, the way she commanded the room without trying too hard—was something Irene hadn’t expected. There was no hesitation, no doubt. It was as if Y/N was made for this.

The eerie melody lingered as she delivered the next lines with controlled intensity. “You in danger, But it's okay, You're a grown-up.” Her voice dropped to a lower register, sending a ripple through the room as every word landed with weight, pulling the audience deeper into the story she was telling.

Then came the final chorus, and Y/N let her voice swell, each note pouring out with a raw intensity that left no room for distraction. “천국을 보여 줄게, I’m not the devil, 마음껏 더 원망해, I don’t care, 망가질수록 나를 원해.” Her voice climbed to its peak before fading into the final, haunting note, the sound reverberating through the room like a lingering echo.

The silence that followed was electric, the room still caught in the grip of her performance. Then, as if snapping out of a trance, the audience erupted into cheers and applause, their enthusiasm ringing out loud and clear.

Y/N’s cheeks flushed faintly as she handed the microphone back to Somi, her earlier confidence melting into a shy smile as she stepped off the stage. Her friends were already cheering loudly, their pride evident in their beaming faces.

Somi grabbed her by the arm, her grin wide. “What did I tell you? You killed it!”

“I think you just wanted to embarrass me,” Y/N teased, though the sparkle in her eyes betrayed her again.

“Embarrass you? Please,” Somi shot back. “I just gave the people what they wanted—your superstar moment.”

As Y/N made her way back to her friends, she couldn’t help but notice someone’s gaze lingering on her from across the room, the faintest hint of a smile playing on the idol’s lips.

Y/N barely had time to sink into the plush sofa before she felt a light tap on her shoulder. Turning around, she found herself face-to-face with Seulgi, Wendy, and Irene. Their presence was striking—not just because of their fame, but because they carried themselves with a natural, understated confidence that filled the space around them.

Seulgi stood at the forefront, her bright smile a perfect match to her friendly demeanor. Her shoulder-length, wavy black hair framed her face effortlessly, and her casual yet chic outfit—a tailored blazer paired with relaxed trousers and bold sneakers—made her look approachable yet undeniably stylish. She exuded an easy warmth, like someone who could make anyone feel at home.

Wendy, standing slightly to the side, had a spark of energy about her that seemed to draw people in. Her short, sleek hair fell just below her chin, accentuating her radiant smile and sharp, sparkling eyes. She wore a soft lavender blouse tucked into high-waisted pants, a look that balanced playfulness with sophistication. There was an air of grounded humor to her, as though she could lighten any moment with a single witty comment.

And then there was Irene.

She stood just behind the others, slightly to the left, her posture poised yet effortlessly relaxed. The soft lighting of the room seemed to gravitate toward her, catching the sleek fall of her dark hair, which was parted perfectly and cascaded over one shoulder in polished waves. She wore a black, fitted midi-dress that emphasized her slender figure with understated elegance. The minimalist design of the dress—no embellishments, no distractions—only served to highlight her natural beauty.

But it wasn’t just her appearance that drew Y/N’s attention—it was the quiet command she exuded, the way her presence seemed to fill the space without effort or pretense. There was a subtle magnetism in the way she carried herself, as though every movement was deliberate, every glance imbued with a thoughtfulness that set her apart.

Her eyes, deep and expressive, lingered on Y/N for a fraction longer than seemed necessary, as if she were assessing something beyond the surface. They held a quiet intensity, a softness that seemed to say she saw more than what was immediately apparent. When their gazes met, Y/N felt the air between them shift—subtle, almost imperceptible, but undeniably there.

Irene’s lips curved into the faintest smile, a gesture so subtle it could have been missed if Y/N hadn’t been paying attention. But she was. There was something about the quiet grace in that moment, the way Irene stood as though the chaos of the party existed around her but not with her, that left Y/N slightly breathless.

“Hi,” Seulgi said warmly, her signature bright smile instantly putting Y/N at ease. “I just wanted to thank you for singing my song. Most people go for the more mainstream ones, but it means a lot that you picked ‘28 Reasons.’”

Y/N blinked in surprise, her smile widening. “It’s a great song,” she replied, her voice steady despite the sudden attention. “It’s so layered and expressive—it really speaks to you. Thank you for writing it.”

Seulgi’s eyes lit up at the compliment. “I’m glad it came through that way. You really nailed the feeling behind it.”

Wendy, standing slightly to the side, leaned forward with a grin. “You’ve got some serious talent,” she said, her tone genuinely impressed. “Are you a singer?”

Y/N laughed softly, brushing off the praise with a wave of her hand. “Not at all. Just a regular person with a karaoke habit.”

Irene, who had been quietly observing the interaction, tilted her head slightly, her eyes narrowing as if studying Y/N. When she finally spoke, her tone was soft but pointed. “You didn’t seem like a regular person up there.”

The words lingered, carrying more weight than Y/N expected. For a moment, she was caught off guard, meeting Irene’s steady gaze. The intensity in Irene’s voice didn’t feel like flattery—it felt like an observation, almost like a challenge. Y/N wasn’t sure how to respond, but before she could speak, Wendy’s laugh broke the silence.

“Well, whatever you are,” Wendy said, her voice light but filled with sincerity, “you’ve got some star power.”

Seulgi nodded enthusiastically, her grin widening. “Seriously. If you ever decide to give this a shot professionally, let us know. You’d be a natural.”

Y/N felt her cheeks flush, a mix of pride and disbelief washing over her. “Thank you,” she said earnestly. “That means more than you know, coming from you.”

Her friends, sitting a little further back, were visibly beaming, Minji even giving Y/N a small thumbs-up as if to say, I told you so.

The interaction could have ended there, but Irene’s gaze lingered on Y/N for just a beat longer. There was something unreadable in her expression—curiosity, perhaps, or something deeper. Finally, she glanced away and turned to follow Seulgi and Wendy as they excused themselves.

Just before she disappeared back into the crowd, Irene glanced over her shoulder one last time, her dark eyes meeting Y/N’s. There was no smile, no nod, just a fleeting look that carried a quiet intensity. It was over in an instant, but it left Y/N wondering what, exactly, Irene had seen in her up on that stage.

As the Red Velvet members disappeared into the sea of partygoers, Y/N turned back to her friends, who were already bursting with excitement.

“Did that just happen?” Minji whispered, leaning forward. “Like, the real Seulgi, Wendy, and Irene just came to talk to you?”

“And complimented you,” Soojin added, her tone practically giddy. “Don’t forget that part.”

Y/N shook her head, laughing softly as she reached for her drink. “Let’s not make a big deal out of it.”

Minji smirked. “Oh, no. This is a big deal.”

The noise and energy of the karaoke room still buzzed in Y/N’s ears as she slipped into the main part of the villa. The distant hum of music and laughter filled the open space, but it was quieter here—a welcome reprieve from the vibrant chaos of the party. Her friends were still soaking up the atmosphere, mingling with idols, and basking in the glow of the night. Y/N, however, needed a moment to herself.

She wandered toward the bar, the open kitchen bathed in soft, ambient lighting that gave the space a cozy warmth despite its sleek, modern design. The marble countertops gleamed under the low lights, and the faint scent of citrus and mint lingered in the air from freshly made cocktails. Sliding onto a stool, Y/N signaled to the bartender for a glass of water.

The cool glass was a relief in her hands, grounding her as her mind swirled with the night’s events. The karaoke performances, the compliments from Red Velvet, the sheer absurdity of being at a party surrounded by some of the biggest names in the industry—it was exhilarating and surreal, but also overwhelming. She stared into the clear water, her reflection faint and distorted on its surface.

“Taking a break?”

The voice was soft, almost hesitant, but unmistakable. Y/N turned, her breath catching slightly as she found herself face-to-face with Irene. Up close, away from the noise and the crowd, Irene seemed almost ethereal. The dim lighting softened her features, and the slight curiosity in her calm expression made her feel approachable, even as her presence carried an air of quiet authority.

“Yeah,” Y/N replied, letting out a small laugh to mask her surprise. “Needed to catch my breath. This is… a lot.”

Irene nodded, her lips curving into a faint, understanding smile. “It can be. Especially if you’re not used to it.” She gestured toward the bartender. “A glass of water, please.”

Y/N chuckled, leaning lightly against the counter. “Not a fan of cocktails?”

Irene shook her head, the corners of her mouth lifting in a faintly amused expression. “Not really. I prefer tea, but that’s hard to come by at parties like this.”

“Tea?” Y/N asked, tilting her head. “That’s… surprisingly low-key.”

Irene raised an eyebrow, a glint of humor flashing in her eyes. “Should I have said champagne? Would that fit the image better?”

Y/N laughed, the tension easing from her shoulders. “No, tea’s perfect. You don’t strike me as someone who does anything just to fit an image.”

Irene’s smile softened, her gaze flickering downward briefly before returning to Y/N. “You’d be surprised how often people try to tell me otherwise.”

For a moment, a comfortable silence settled between them, the quiet clink of glasses and the murmur of distant conversation filling the space. Y/N found herself studying Irene—the way her posture was effortlessly elegant, the way her presence seemed to fill the room without demanding attention. Yet, there was a softness to her up close, a vulnerability that the cameras never seemed to capture.

“Do you ever get used to it?” Y/N asked after a moment. “The attention? The noise?”

Irene exhaled softly, her gaze shifting to the glass of water the bartender placed in front of her. “Not entirely,” she admitted, her tone thoughtful. “But you find ways to cope. You have to.”

Y/N nodded, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a pack of cigarettes. “Speaking of coping…”

Irene’s nose crinkled slightly, an expression of subtle distaste flickering across her face before she could mask it. Y/N froze, catching the reaction immediately.

“You don’t like smoking,” Y/N said, her tone more observational than accusatory.

Irene hesitated, her fingers tracing the edge of her glass. “I don’t hate it,” she said carefully, “but it’s not my favorite thing.”

Y/N considered this for a moment, glancing down at the pack in her hand. She hesitated, the weight of the decision lingering in the air between them. Then, with a decisive motion, she walked to the nearby trash bin and tossed the pack inside.

Irene’s eyes widened in surprise. “Wait, why did you do that?”

Y/N shrugged as she returned to her seat. “You said you didn’t like it. No point in making you uncomfortable.”

The honesty in her tone caught Irene off guard. For a moment, she simply stared at Y/N, a mixture of surprise and something deeper flickering in her eyes. “That was… unexpected.”

Y/N leaned her elbows on the counter, a small, teasing smile playing at her lips. “Good unexpected or bad?”

“Good,” Irene admitted, the faintest hint of pink coloring her cheeks as a smile tugged at her lips. Her gaze softened, and for the first time that night, her guarded demeanor seemed to melt just slightly.

“Well, I’m glad I can surprise you,” Y/N replied, her tone light but sincere.

As Irene took a sip of her water, Y/N couldn’t help but feel the shift in the air between them—a quiet understanding, a shared moment of something unspoken.

The faint hum of the party buzzed around them, but here at the bar, the atmosphere felt quieter, more personal. Y/N swirled the last bit of water in her glass, her gaze occasionally flickering toward Irene, who was sitting poised yet relaxed. Their conversation had started with casual pleasantries but had slowly shifted into something deeper, the kind of exchange that left Y/N wanting to know more.

Y/N glanced toward the large glass doors leading to the balcony. The soft glow of the city lights outside promised a peaceful escape from the bustling villa. She hesitated for a moment, debating whether to ask. There was something unspoken between them, a subtle connection that she couldn’t quite name. It was a gamble, but something about Irene’s quiet presence made her want to take the risk.

“Do you want to step outside?” Y/N asked, her tone casual yet inviting. She nodded toward the balcony. “It’s quieter out there. A little easier to breathe.”

Irene tilted her head, her brown eyes meeting Y/N’s with curiosity. “Are you trying to get me away from the party?” she asked lightly, her lips curving into the faintest hint of a smile.

“Maybe,” Y/N replied with a playful shrug. “Or maybe I just thought you could use a break too.”

For a moment, Irene studied her, as if weighing the offer. Then, without a word, she picked up her glass of water and stood, her movements graceful. “Alright,” she said softly. “Lead the way.”

Y/N smiled, gesturing toward the doors as she moved to open them.

As they stepped onto the balcony, the cold night air hit them like a gentle wave, crisp and sharp against their skin. Y/N barely flinched, used to chilly nights, but she noticed the way Irene folded her arms close to her body, her black midi-dress offering little warmth against the biting air. The faint glow from the city lights illuminated her features—the delicate curve of her profile, the faint blush on her cheeks from the cold, and the way her breath formed soft, fleeting clouds in the air. Irene’s hair, cascading over one shoulder, caught the light, creating a subtle shimmer that made her seem almost ethereal as she gazed out at the view. A slight shiver ran through her, though she made no move to complain or retreat indoors.

Y/N hesitated for only a moment before shrugging off her jacket. “Here,” she said softly, stepping closer. Without waiting for a reply, she draped the jacket over Irene’s shoulders, the motion smooth and casual but deliberate. “You’ll freeze otherwise.”

Irene blinked, surprised by the gesture. She glanced down at the jacket and then back at Y/N, her lips parting as if to protest. “You’ll be cold,” she said, her tone quiet but laced with concern.

“I’ll survive,” Y/N replied with a small grin. “You’re the star. You can’t get sick, or your fans would be mad.”

Irene’s cheeks tinged pink, though whether it was from the cold or the compliment, she couldn’t tell. She clutched the jacket around her shoulders, the fabric warm from Y/N’s body heat and carrying the faint scent of Y/N perfume. It was comforting in a way she hadn’t expected, grounding her amidst the unfamiliar intimacy of the moment.

“Thank you,” Irene said after a beat, her voice soft but sincere. She looked at Y/N, her gaze lingering for a moment longer than necessary.

Y/N nodded, her grin widening slightly. “No problem. Can’t have you turning into an ice sculpture out here.”

Irene let out a small laugh, the sound quiet but genuine, and turned her attention back to the city lights below. The chill of the air seemed less noticeable now, the weight of the jacket and the presence of Y/N beside her somehow enough to keep it at bay.

Irene glanced at Y/N, who seemed lost in thought as she gazed at the cityscape. There was something about the woman’s presence—unassuming yet quietly magnetic—that made Irene feel unusually at ease.

“Irene… or Joohyun?” Y/N asked suddenly, her voice breaking the silence with a playful lilt.

Irene’s brow furrowed slightly, her curiosity piqued. “What do you mean?”

“Well, which name do you prefer when you’re not on stage?” Y/N turned her head, her green eyes meeting Irene’s warm brown ones with an open, curious expression.

“Joohyun,” Irene replied after a moment, her voice soft. “It feels more… me.”

Y/N smiled, the corners of her lips curling gently. “Joohyun it is, then.”

For a few beats, they stood in comfortable silence, the quiet between them filled only with the faint hum of traffic below and the occasional gust of wind. The moment felt suspended in time, the city sprawling before them as if they were the only two people in the world.

“Can we please start talking informally?” Irene’s voice was gentle but direct, her gaze steady as she looked at Y/N.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, a small smirk tugging at her lips. “Only if you’re comfortable with it. Since you’re the unnie,” she added with a teasing tone.

Irene blinked, momentarily startled. Then she let out a soft laugh, the sound like a quiet melody carried on the cold air. “Wait. ‘Unnie’? You’re younger than me?”

Y/N chuckled, her breath forming small clouds in the cold.

The surprise on Irene’s face was endearing, her eyebrows raising slightly as she tilted her head in curiosity. “How old are you?”

“That would be too easy,” Y/N teased, leaning casually against the railing. “Why don’t you guess?”

Irene crossed her arms under the jacket, pretending to consider it carefully as her lips quirked in amusement. “Hmmm… I’ll say… 30?”

Y/N burst into laughter, the sound echoing softly in the open air. “Not even close! Wow, I must look really mature to you.”

Irene furrowed her brows, equal parts amused and puzzled. “So, how old are you, then?”

“Well..” Y/N said, leaning in slightly with a playful grin, “I was born in 1999. Does the age gap bother you?”

Joohyun froze for a moment, the unexpected answer catching her off guard. The casual confidence in Y/N’s tone contrasted with the weight of the question. “Eight years…” Irene repeated softly, her voice trailing off as she processed the revelation.

Y/N studied her closely, noticing the flicker of uncertainty in Irene’s expression. “It’s okay if it’s weird,” Y/N said quickly, her voice gentle. “I get it if the age gap is a problem. I just—”

“No,” Irene cut her off, shaking her head slightly. “It’s not that. I just didn’t expect you to be so… young. You seem much older.”

“Older, huh?” Y/N teased, her grin widening. “Should I be flattered or worried?”

Irene smiled despite herself, her cheeks tinged with a faint pink. “Flattered, I think. You’re very mature.”

“Thanks,” Y/N replied, the warmth in her tone softening the moment. “But honestly, I think age is just a number. It’s how you connect with someone that matters, right?”

Irene hesitated, her gaze shifting back to the city lights below. “You’re right,” she said softly, her voice thoughtful. “It’s just… different for me. I’ve always been cautious about letting people in.”

“Well, I’m not here to complicate your life, Joohyun,” Y/N said sincerely. “I just… really enjoy talking to you.”

The simplicity of her words made Irene’s heart flutter, the sincerity behind them resonating more than she expected. The weight of the age difference, the boundaries Irene had carefully built around herself—it all seemed to fade in the quiet warmth of the moment. For the first time in a long while, she allowed herself to simply be.

Just as Irene opened her mouth to reply, the balcony doors swung open, the spell of the moment breaking as Joy’s cheerful voice filled the space.

“There you are, unnie! We’ve been looking everywhere for you,” she said, her tone playful as her eyes darted between Irene and Y/N, her grin widening with mischief.

Irene straightened, her professional demeanor slipping back into place, though her hands clutched the jacket more tightly around her shoulders.

“I was just…” Irene began, but Joy’s teasing smirk interrupted her.

“Having a moment,” Joy finished with a dramatic tone, her eyes sparkling. “I see that.”

Y/N chuckled, stepping back from the railing with a shrug. “I should probably get back to my friends anyway. Thanks for the chat, Joohyun.”

Irene’s lips parted as if to say something, but no words came out. She only nodded, her gaze lingering on Y/N.

As Y/N turned to leave, Irene called after her softly, “Thank you for the jacket. I’ll return it before the night’s over.”

“Keep it,” Y/N replied over her shoulder, a grin flashing in the dim light. “It suits you better.”

Irene stood there for a moment, clutching the jacket tightly as the scent of Y/N lingered around her. Joy tilted her head, a knowing smile playing on her lips.

“So…” Joy began, her tone light but loaded with curiosity. “Who was that?”

Irene didn’t reply immediately, her gaze still fixed on the now-closed door. “Someone different,” she said finally, her voice soft, almost wistful.

Joy smirked. “Different, huh?”

Irene glanced at her, her lips curving into a faint smile. “Let’s get back to the party.”

The next morning light filtered softly through Irene’s curtains, painting her room in hues of gold and cream. She sat at her vanity, absently running a brush through her dark hair, the rhythmic motion a habit more than necessity. Her gaze wandered to the Prada jacket draped over the chair beside her, its sleek fabric catching the light. A silent reminder of the night before.

Her hand stilled, the brush hovering mid-air as her thoughts inevitably returned to Y/N.

Joohyun had met countless people throughout her career—smiling faces at fan events, fellow celebrities at events, industry professionals at photoshoots. Most blurred together, their interactions fleeting and transactional. But Y/N wasn’t like the others. Her calm confidence, genuine warmth, and selflessness had lingered in Irene’s mind like the last notes of a favorite song.

She sighed, setting the brush down on the vanity with a soft clink. Picking up her phone, she stared at the screen for a long moment, her thumb hovering indecisively over the messaging app. Finally, she stood and left her room, seeking a second opinion.

“Seulgi?” Irene called out as she entered the living room. The younger member was sprawled across the couch, scrolling through her phone lazily, one leg draped over the armrest.

Seulgi looked up, her brows raised in mild curiosity. “What’s up, unnie?”

Irene hesitated, trying to keep her voice casual. “Do you have Giselle’s contact information?”

Seulgi sat up, her curiosity sharpening. “Why? Looking to hang out with the Aespa juniors now?”

Irene gave her a pointed look. “I need her help getting in touch with someone from last night.”

“Oh?” Seulgi’s lips curved into a teasing smirk as she sat cross-legged on the couch. “Who?”

Irene’s reply was quiet, almost reluctant. “Y/N.”

Seulgi’s smirk widened, her tone turning mischievous. “Y/N? The karaoke superstar?”

“Seulgi,” Irene warned, her tone light but edged with impatience.

“Alright, alright,” Seulgi relented with a laugh, reaching for her phone. She tapped the screen a few times before raising it to her ear. “I’ll call Giselle for you.”

Irene crossed her arms, leaning lightly against the back of the couch as she waited. Her mind drived back to the jacket in her room. The faint scent of Y/N perfume still clung to it, and despite herself, she found the smell comforting.

After a brief exchange, Seulgi ended the call and grinned. “Good news, unnie. Giselle can get Y/N’s number from one of her friends. She’ll send it to me asap.”

Irene’s pulse quickened, a quiet flutter of anticipation rising in her chest. She took the phone from Seulgi as the message came through, the string of digits appearing on the screen like a secret invitation.

Seulgi watched her with a curious tilt of her head. “You seem pretty interested in Y/N.”

“She left her jacket, it's a pretty expensive one.” Irene replied quickly, her tone carefully even as she gestured toward the item in question.

“Uh-huh,” Seulgi replied, clearly unconvinced but unwilling to press further.

Back in her room, Irene sat on the edge of her bed, holding her phone in her hands. The contact information stared back at her, deceptively simple, yet it felt impossibly daunting. The idea of texting Y/N—of deliberately reaching out—was both exciting and terrifying.

Her mind drifted back to their moment on the balcony. The way Y/N had laughed so easily at her miscalculated age guess lingered in Irene’s mind. That laugh—bright, genuine, and free of judgment—had slipped past her usual defenses with an ease that was both unsettling and comforting. Y/N’s bold, self-assured admission of their eight-year gap had carried no hesitation, as though it was a simple fact rather than an obstacle. And then there were her words, delivered with such sincerity: Age is just a number. It’s how you connect with someone that matters, right?

The sincerity in Y/N’s voice had struck a chord in Irene, brushing aside her carefully constructed doubts in the moment. But now, alone in the quiet of her room, those doubts crept back in, louder and more insistent.

They mattered.

“She’s so young,” Irene’s inner voice whispered, sharp and critical, curling like smoke at the edges of her thoughts. “What will people think? What if she doesn’t understand how complicated this is? What if it’s just some fleeting infatuation for her? Something she’ll laugh about one day as a passing phase?”

Her thumb hovered over the text field on her phone as she chewed her lip. Her free hand tightened into a fist on her lap.

It wasn’t just the age gap, though it loomed large in her mind. Y/N was everything Irene was usually cautious about: spontaneous, disarmingly open, and seemingly unbothered by the walls Irene had spent years building around herself. The younger woman didn’t seem to care about appearances or expectations, brushing off Irene’s hesitations as though they were irrelevant.

And yet, those hesitations were relevant. Irene had spent most of her adult life guarding her personal world with almost military precision. It wasn’t just the media or her career—it was the deep fear of letting someone in, of giving someone the power to disrupt the delicate balance she maintained.

Her stomach twisted with doubt. What if I misread her? What if I let my guard down, only to regret it?

The jacket hanging on the chair caught her eye again, its presence both comforting and taunting. Y/N had handed it over without a second thought, brushing aside Irene’s concern about her getting cold with a playful comment: You’re the star. You can’t get sick, or your fans would be mad.

That memory softened the tightness in her chest.

Y/N’s easy laughter, her straightforwardness, and the way she had tossed away her cigarette pack without a moment’s hesitation—it all played in Irene’s mind like a highlight reel. Y/N had done it for her. Not for appearances, not for some ulterior motive, but because she wanted to.

The thought disarmed Irene again, just as it had on the balcony. Y/N’s actions weren’t about impressing anyone—they were about sincerity. And sincerity was something Irene rarely encountered in her world of carefully managed interactions and calculated relationships.

Her doubts pushed back, louder this time. “But what if she’s too young to understand what she’s asking for? What if I’m too set in my ways to even try?”

She inhaled deeply, closing her eyes and pressing the phone against her chest.

Stop.

The word echoed firmly in her mind, her own voice this time, clearer and steadier. “This isn’t about other people, and it’s not about the age gap. It’s about her.”

Y/N’s words from the balcony returned, calm and earnest: I’m not here to complicate your life, Joohyun. I just… really enjoy talking to you.

Those words hadn’t been a promise or a demand. They were an offering—a simple, genuine connection. Irene realized that the only thing standing in the way of accepting it was her own fear.

She took another deep breath, her fingers trembling slightly as she began typing. The words came slowly at first, her mind second-guessing every letter.

Hi, this is Joohyun. I hope you don’t mind me contacting you. I’d like to return your jacket and maybe talk for a bit, if that’s alright. Let me know when you’re free.

She stared at the message for a long moment, her thumb hovering over the send button. The doubts whispered again, quieter now but still present: “What if this changes everything?”

But then she thought of Y/N’s laugh, the way it had made her feel lighter for the first time in weeks.

With a decisive exhale, Irene hit send.

The message hung in the air, the seconds ticking by feeling impossibly long.

When Y/N’s reply came through quicker than expected, Irene’s chest tightened.

Hi, Joohyun! Of course, I don’t mind. I’m free most evenings after work. Just let me know what works best for you.

Irene exhaled a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. A small smile tugged at her lips as she quickly typed a reply, suggesting they meet at Y/N’s apartment to avoid any unwanted attention.

With the plan set, Irene placed her phone down and leaned back against her headboard, staring up at the ceiling. The uncertainty still lingered, but now it was outweighed by something else entirely—a quiet anticipation, tinged with the faintest spark of hope.

For the first time in a long while, Joohyun allowed herself to wonder what might come next.

The faint sound of soft jazz played in the background as Y/N set down two steaming mugs of tea on her small but neatly arranged coffee table. She glanced around her apartment, ensuring everything was in order. It wasn’t fancy, but it was cozy and reflected her personality: bookshelves lined with novels and travel guides, framed photos of her family and friends, and a faint scent of vanilla lingering in the air.

Her heart skipped a beat when the intercom buzzed. “It’s Joohyun,” came the familiar, soft voice.

Y/N pressed the button to unlock the door and stepped back, taking a calming breath. Moments later, there was a knock, and when she opened the door, Irene stood there, jacket in hand.

“Hi,” Irene said, a small, polite smile on her lips.

“Hi,” Y/N replied, stepping aside to let her in. “Come on in. It’s freezing out there.”

Irene slipped off her coat, revealing a simple but elegant turtleneck and tailored pants. She handed Y/N the jacket. “Thanks for lending this to me. I wasn’t sure how to return it without it being… awkward.”

Y/N chuckled, setting the jacket on a nearby chair. “It’s just a jacket. You didn’t have to go through all the trouble of texting and coming over.”

“I wanted to,” Irene admitted, her voice soft.

They settled onto the couch, the soft cushions sinking under their weight as the aroma of freshly brewed tea filled the room. Irene cradled her mug, letting the warmth seep into her palms as she looked around, her gaze landing on a small stack of books neatly arranged on the coffee table.

“You read a lot,” she noted, the observation tinged with curiosity.

“It’s my escape,” Y/N said, her smile soft but genuine. “And my excuse to stay in when my friends are being too wild.”

Irene chuckled, the sound low and melodic as she took a sip of her tea. “Your friends are… energetic.”

“That’s putting it lightly,” Y/N replied with a laugh, her green eyes twinkling. “But they mean well. Honestly, they’re the reason I even ended up at that party.”

Irene tilted her head slightly, her gaze sharpening with interest. “Kibum mentioned how you helped him,” she said, her tone shifting to something more serious. “That was brave of you.”

Y/N shrugged, the motion casual but unassuming. “I didn’t really think about it. It just felt like the right thing to do.”

Irene studied her for a moment, the admiration clear in her gaze. The simplicity in Y/N’s words—no need for embellishment or grandeur—made them feel all the more sincere. “You don’t act like someone your age,” Irene said finally, the words slipping out before she could think better of it.

Y/N smirked, leaning slightly forward. “Here we go again with the age thing.”

Irene’s cheeks tinged pink as she looked down at her mug, embarrassed. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know,” Y/N said softly, setting her own mug on the table. The playful teasing in her tone gave way to something gentler. “And for what it’s worth, I don’t think it’s a big deal. The age difference, I mean.”

Irene hesitated, her fingers tightening around her mug as her thoughts wrestled for clarity. “It’s not that I think it’s a problem. It’s just…” She trailed off, her gaze drifting briefly to the tea in her hands before lifting back to Y/N. “I’ve never met someone quite like you.”

Intrigued, Y/N raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

Irene seemed to consider her words carefully, her expression briefly vulnerable. “Most people, when they realize who I am… there’s a shift. It’s subtle, but it’s always there. They start treating me like an idol instead of just a person. But with you…” She met Y/N’s gaze, her brown eyes steady and open. “You don’t do that. You treat me like… Joohyun.”

Y/N’s lips curved into a small, almost shy smile. “Because that’s who you are, isn’t it? Joohyun first, Irene second.”

A flicker of surprise crossed Irene’s face, followed by a warmth that softened her features in a way that caught Y/N off guard. “Not everyone sees it that way,” Irene admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Well, I’m not everyone,” Y/N replied, her tone light but tinged with sincerity.

“That’s clear,” Irene murmured, almost to herself, her lips curving into a faint smile. She shifted slightly on the couch, letting herself relax further as the tension in her shoulders eased. “You have this way of making people feel at ease. It’s… different.”

Y/N tilted her head, a playful glint in her eyes. “Different good or different bad?”

Irene chuckled softly, shaking her head as she brought her mug to her lips. “Definitely good.”

Y/N leaned back against the couch, one arm draped casually along the backrest as her expression turned teasing. “Good to know I’ve passed the Joohyun compatibility test.”

Irene laughed, the sound bright and unguarded, and shook her head again. “You’re impossible.”

“Maybe,” Y/N replied with a grin, her green eyes sparkling with mischief. “But you’re still here, so I must be doing something right.”

Irene smirked, the playful banter putting her at ease. “Or maybe I’m just too polite to leave.”

“Sure, let’s go with that,” Y/N shot back, her tone full of mock agreement.

The warmth of the moment wrapped around them like the steam curling from their mugs. For Irene, it was strange and yet refreshing—how natural it felt to sit here, trading words with Y/N as though they’d known each other far longer than just a few days. She wasn’t sure what it was about Y/N—the straightforwardness, the calm confidence, the refusal to tiptoe around her like most people did—but it felt disarmingly easy.

For Y/N, the moment felt almost surreal. She could see the layers of Joohyun—the idol, the perfectionist, the guarded woman—and yet, here and now, she was seeing someone else. Someone softer, someone real.

“I don’t think I’ve laughed this much in a while,” Irene admitted quietly, almost as if to herself.

“Well,” Y/N said, her voice light but tinged with warmth, “I’m glad I could help with that.”

And for a brief moment, as their gazes held, the rest of the world seemed to fade away.

They talked for a while longer, their conversation drifting to lighter topics: favorite movies, dream destinations, and the quirks of their respective friends.

“You’re really close to your group, aren’t you?” Y/N asked, leaning forward slightly as she rested her chin on her hand.

“They’re like family,” Irene replied, her voice carrying a quiet fondness. “We’ve been through so much together. I don’t know where I’d be without them.” Her lips curved into a small smile, but there was a weight in her words that hinted at the challenges behind the bond.

“I get that,” Y/N said after a thoughtful pause. “I moved here alone, so my friends kind of became my family. They’ve been amazing, but… it’s not the same as having people who’ve been through it all with you. People who just get it.”

For a moment, Irene’s expression softened, her brown eyes reflecting an unspoken understanding. “It’s hard,” she murmured, her gaze dropping briefly to the mug in her hands. “Letting people in, even when they mean well.”

Y/N nodded, the quiet bond between them deepening. The world outside her apartment—Seoul’s noise, its bright lights, its expectations—felt far away, like a distant memory they didn’t need to revisit just yet.

Eventually, the conversation shifted to the stack of DVDs on Y/N’s shelf, the gleaming plastic cases catching Irene’s attention.

“You still have DVDs?” Irene asked, a rare playful glint sparking in her eyes.

“They’re classics,” Y/N defended with a mock-offended look, her grin betraying her amusement. “Besides, they work when the internet goes out. You can’t put a price on reliable entertainment.”

Irene chuckled, shaking her head. “You sound like an infomercial.”

“Hey, don’t knock it,” Y/N shot back, getting up to rummage through the stack. “You’ll appreciate it when the apocalypse hits, and I’m the only one with a working movie library.”

“Sure,” Irene replied dryly, but the amusement in her voice was unmistakable.

After some back-and-forth, they finally settled on a romantic comedy. Irene seemed more relaxed now, her usual polished demeanor replaced with an easy warmth. She tucked her legs beneath her on the couch, the mug of tea still cradled in her hands, and let out a quiet sigh of contentment.

As the movie began, their laughter blended with the antics on screen, filling the apartment with a lightness neither of them realized they’d needed.

Credits started rolling, the final strains of the movie’s theme fading into the quiet hum of the apartment, Y/N turned to Irene. Her heart pounded slightly, her confidence wavering for the first time all night. The words she wanted to say seemed caught in her throat, the weight of the moment pressing down on her.

“Joohyun… can I ask you something?” Y/N finally said, her voice softer than usual.

Irene turned to her, tilting her head slightly, her gaze warm and attentive. “Of course,” she replied, her tone calm, though curiosity flickered in her gaze.

Y/N hesitated, her fingers fidgeting slightly with the edge of the couch cushion. The confidence she was usually known for felt just out of reach, but she pushed through the nerves. “Would you… maybe want to go out with me sometime? Just the two of us. Somewhere quiet, away from all the chaos.”

Irene blinked, caught off guard by the suddenness of the question. The silence stretched just long enough for doubt to creep into Y/N’s chest. She wondered if she had misread all the signals—the stolen glances, the lingering smiles, the way Irene’s presence had felt so natural beside her.

But then Irene’s expression softened, and a small, genuine smile spread across her lips. It reached her eyes, making them sparkle in the dim light.

“I’d like that,” Irene said softly, her voice carrying a sincerity that made Y/N’s heart skip a beat.

Y/N let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, her shoulders relaxing as a grin broke across her face. “Really?”

“Really,” Irene affirmed, setting her now-empty mug down on the coffee table. “I wasn’t expecting you to ask, but I’m glad you did.”

Y/N’s grin widened, her earlier nerves melting away into quiet excitement. “I’ll text you the details soon,” she said, her voice gaining its usual steady confidence.

“Looking forward to it,” Irene replied, her tone light but genuine.

The moment hung between them, warm and full of possibility, until Irene’s phone buzzed, breaking the spell. She glanced at the screen, her brow furrowing slightly. “That’s my manager,” she said, standing and gathering her things. “He’s here to pick me up.”

Y/N rose to her feet, following her to the door. The apartment felt quieter now, the air charged with the weight of everything unsaid. Irene slipped on her coat, her movements graceful but unhurried.

Just as Irene reached for the door handle, she paused and turned back. Her movements were deliberate, but her expression carried a hint of shyness that made Y/N’s heart skip. Leaning in, Irene pressed a soft kiss to Y/N’s cheek, the touch warm and fleeting but full of quiet meaning.

“Thank you for tonight,” Irene repeated, her voice barely above a whisper, her breath brushing against Y/N’s skin.

Before Y/N could respond, Irene stepped out into the hallway, the faint scent of her perfume lingering in the air. The sound of her heels echoed softly against the floor, fading as she disappeared down the corridor.

Y/N stood frozen for a moment, her hand instinctively brushing the spot where Irene’s lips had touched her cheek. A slow, almost disbelieving smile spread across her face as the warmth of the moment settled into her chest.

The door clicked shut, leaving the apartment in silence, but the energy Irene left behind still lingered—an unspoken promise of something more.

Y/N leaned back against the door, staring at the spot where Irene had been moments ago. “Well,” she murmured to herself, a soft laugh escaping her lips. “That went better than expected.”

Her thoughts quickly shifted to what came next. Pulling her phone from her pocket, she opened their text thread, her fingers hovering over the screen as she considered her options. After a few moments of deliberation, she typed out a message:

How does Friday evening sound? There’s this little café I think you’ll love—quiet, cozy, and very private. I’ll text you the address.

Irene’s reply came quickly, the soft chime breaking the stillness of the apartment.

Friday works. Looking forward to it.

Y/N grinned, her excitement bubbling over as she began planning. She called ahead to the café, confirming a secluded table by the window with the best view of the fairy-lit trees outside. She wanted everything to be perfect—relaxed, intimate, and free from the chaos Irene was so used to.

When Friday arrived, Y/N adjusted her collar nervously as she waited in front of the small café tucked into a quiet corner of Seoul. The warm, golden glow of the lights spilling onto the cobblestone street reflected the cozy atmosphere she had been aiming for—a space that was private yet inviting.

The cool night air carried a faint hint of roasting coffee and pine, mingling with the sound of distant chatter from passersby. Y/N glanced at her watch, her fingers fidgeting slightly before she tucked them into her jacket pockets.

Then she saw her.

Irene approached, wrapped in a sleek black coat with a scarf draped elegantly around her neck. The soft light of the café caught the subtle shine of her hair, and her delicate features seemed even more radiant in the glow of the surrounding fairy lights.

Y/N’s breath caught as Irene gave a small, almost shy smile. She quickly stepped forward, holding the door open for her.

“Hi,” Irene said, her voice warm but quiet, as if the moment were something fragile.

“Hi,” Y/N replied, her grin widening as she gestured for Irene to step inside.

They were greeted by the rich, comforting scent of freshly brewed coffee mingled with faint hints of vanilla and cinnamon. The soft strumming of an acoustic guitar played in the background, the music low and soothing, blending perfectly with the quiet chatter of other patrons. A warm glow from the pendant lights above bathed the space in a golden hue, creating an intimate atmosphere that felt removed from the busy world outside.

The café staff greeted them with a discreet nod and led them to their reserved table, a cozy nook near the window. Strings of fairy lights framed the glass, and outside, the trees sparkled faintly under their glow. Irene followed closely behind Y/N, her scarf still loosely draped around her neck, her gaze sweeping the room with a mix of curiosity and appreciation.

“This is… perfect,” Irene said softly as she slipped off her scarf and set it on the chair beside her. Her brown eyes flicked to Y/N, warmth evident in her expression. “Thank you for finding a place like this.”

“I wanted you to feel comfortable,” Y/N replied, her voice steady despite the faint pounding of her heart. “Somewhere away from prying eyes, where you could just… be.”

A small, genuine smile tugged at Irene’s lips, and for a moment, she said nothing, just meeting Y/N’s gaze with quiet gratitude.

They sat across from each other, the table small enough that the tips of their fingers occasionally brushed as they reached for their cups. Irene stirred her tea with slow, deliberate motions, the clinking of the spoon against porcelain filling the brief silences, while Y/N wrapped her hands around her mug of hot chocolate, savoring the warmth that seeped into her palms.

The initial moments were tentative, their conversation weaving through small, safe topics—the crisp winter weather, favorite dishes, and the café’s charming décor. They exchanged polite laughs and observations, but the air between them felt heavy with unspoken thoughts.

Then, Y/N decided to take a leap.

“Can I ask you something, Joohyun?” she said, her voice soft but purposeful.

Irene’s fingers paused mid-stir, her eyes lifting to meet Y/N’s. There was curiosity in her gaze, mixed with a flicker of vulnerability. “Of course.”

Y/N hesitated for a brief moment, then asked, “What’s the one thing you’d do if you could have a day completely free from all expectations—no schedules, no cameras, no people recognizing you?”

Irene blinked, clearly caught off guard by the question. Her lips parted slightly as she processed it, and then, after a moment, a wistful smile appeared. “I’d spend the entire day in bed,” she admitted, her voice quieter now, as though she were confessing a secret. “Reading books, watching old movies, staying in pajamas. No makeup, no pressure. Just… peace.”

Y/N chuckled, her grin widening. “That does sound perfect. I think I’d join you.”

Irene’s smile deepened, and a soft laugh escaped her. “And you?” she asked, her tone shifting to one of genuine interest. “What would you do?”

Y/N tilted her head slightly, thinking for a moment. “I think I’d get in my car and just drive,” she said finally. “No destination in mind, just the open road. Maybe stop at random little places along the way—cafés like this, antique shops, small towns with hidden gems.”

Irene nodded thoughtfully, her expression serene. “That sounds freeing,” she said softly, her gaze distant as if imagining the scenario for herself.

Their conversation flowed more easily after that, moving from wistful dreams to stories of their lives. Y/N spoke of her decision to move to Seoul—the uncertainty, the thrill, and the comfort she eventually found in her close-knit group of friends. Irene, in turn, shared snippets of her childhood in Daegu, painting a picture of simpler days filled with family traditions and quiet moments that felt a lifetime away now.

As the evening progressed, their laughter became more frequent, their smiles more natural. They leaned closer without realizing it, their words spilling out in easy rhythm, their connection deepening with every passing moment.

When they finally stepped out of the café, the cold night air greeted them, crisp and bracing. Irene adjusted her scarf, wrapping it more tightly around her neck, but a sudden gust of wind made her shiver slightly despite the effort.

Noticing this, Y/N reached into her bag, rummaging for a moment before pulling out a soft, knitted beanie.

“Here,” Y/N said, holding it out with a grin. “You look like you could use this.”

Irene blinked, surprise flashing in her eyes. “You carry a spare beanie with you?”

“Not exactly,” Y/N admitted, chuckling. “It’s mine, but I’m not letting you freeze.”

For a moment, Irene hesitated, her gaze flicking between Y/N’s face and the beanie in her outstretched hand. Then, with a small smile, she took it, carefully pulling it over her head. The fit was a little loose, the fabric dipping just slightly over her ears, and the sight made Y/N grin even wider.

“What?” Irene asked, her cheeks flushed—not entirely from the cold.

“Nothing,” Y/N said, her grin softening. “It suits you.”

Irene rolled her eyes, but the fondness in her smile was unmistakable. She tugged the beanie snugly over her ears, her voice light. “You’re impossible.”

“Maybe,” Y/N replied with a playful shrug, “but I’m warm, and now you are too.”

As they walked down the quiet, cobblestone street, their laughter mingled with the faint sound of the café door closing behind them. The lights from the trees above cast soft patterns on the pavement, and the crisp air felt less biting, wrapped as they were in the shared warmth of a night neither would soon forget.

When they parted ways at the end of the street, Irene offered a soft smile that lingered in Y/N’s mind long after she’d disappeared into the waiting car. The faint scent of Irene’s perfume and the warmth of her laughter stayed with Y/N, wrapping around her like a comforting echo.

The next day, Y/N hesitated before typing her first text. She didn’t want to seem overeager, but the thought of letting too much time pass felt unbearable.

Hi, Joohyun. I hope you’re having a good day. Let me know if you’re free this week—You still owe me another warm drink for stealing my beanie.

The response came faster than Y/N expected, her phone lighting up with Irene’s message.

I think I’ve already paid you back with good company. But I’d love to meet again.

Y/N grinned, her chest warming as she typed her reply.

Good company is a rare find these days. I think we’re both lucky.

A moment later, Irene replied:

You give yourself too much credit.

Y/N laughed softly, shaking her head as she typed back.

And you don’t give yourself enough. I’ll take that as a yes for another tea, though.

The playful exchange set the tone for the steady rhythm of their conversations, growing warmer and more natural with every message.

The banter flowed easily, their texts a back-and-forth rhythm that quickly became a regular part of their days. At first, Irene’s messages were careful and composed, always polite, but as the days turned into weeks, something shifted. Her responses grew warmer, tinged with playfulness and the occasional flirtation that caught Y/N off guard.

One evening, Y/N sent a picture of her hastily assembled dinner: slightly burnt toast next to scrambled eggs that looked more scrambled than eggs.

Chef of the year, don’t you think? she texted, adding a laughing emoji to soften the self-deprecating humor.

The reply came after a brief pause, Irene’s tone light but biting:

Do you usually subject your kitchen to such tragedies?

Y/N laughed, shaking her head as she quickly typed her response.

Only when I’m hungry. Care to save me with your culinary expertise?

Her grin widened as she hit send, but when the next message took longer to arrive, Y/N wondered briefly if she’d overstepped. The silence stretched for a few minutes, her nerves creeping in. Then her phone buzzed again, and Irene’s reply made her laugh aloud.

Only if you promise to leave the cooking to me next time.

Deal, Y/N shot back. But that means you’ll have to let me take you out again.

Irene’s response came quickly this time, and Y/N could almost picture the faint curve of her smile as she read:

That’s the idea.

Their conversations became a steady rhythm, filling the spaces between their busy lives. Despite her normally reserved nature, Irene found herself reaching for her phone more often, eager to hear from Y/N. Late-night texts turned into moments of shared vulnerability, while daytime banter revealed Irene’s unexpected playful streak.

One afternoon, Y/N sent a picture of her desk, papers strewn everywhere, and a nearly empty coffee mug perched precariously on the edge.

This is my current “escape.” Beautiful, isn’t it?

Irene’s reply came quickly, her tone as sharp as ever:

Beautiful might not be the word I’d use. Chaotic, maybe.

Y/N grinned, typing back with mock offense:

You wound me, Joohyun. Truly.

Just being honest, Irene replied. Then, after a beat, she added: But for what it’s worth, you work hard, and it shows.

The compliment made Y/N pause, warmth spreading through her chest. She reread Irene’s words a few times before replying:

Thank you. That means a lot coming from you.

In return, Irene occasionally shared glimpses of her own life. One afternoon, she sent a picture of a steaming cup of tea resting on a windowsill, the cityscape visible in the distance, painted gold by the late afternoon sun.

My little escape between schedules, she wrote.

Y/N stared at the serene image for a moment before replying:

Peaceful and elegant. Very you.

Irene’s reply came almost immediately, teasing but not unkind:

Are you saying I’m predictable?

Not at all, Y/N replied. Just that you have good taste.

The ease of their conversations deepened in the quiet hours, when the weight of their respective worlds felt lighter in the presence of the other.

One night, as the city outside Y/N’s window grew quiet, she sent a message:

How do you handle it? The pressure, the expectations?

This time, Irene’s response didn’t come right away. Y/N could imagine her deliberating, carefully choosing her words. When the reply finally arrived, it was more honest than she had anticipated:

Some days, I don’t think I do. I just… keep going.

There was a pause before another message came through:

You seem like you’d understand that. You make it look effortless.

Y/N’s reply was immediate, her honesty mirroring Irene’s:

I don’t. Not always. But talking to you helps.

Amid the seriousness, humor often found its way into their exchanges. One afternoon, Y/N sent a post-gym selfie: her hair was a sweaty mess, her cheeks flushed red, and her expression one of mock exhaustion.

Glamorous, right? she captioned.

Irene’s reply came almost instantly, her wit on full display:

Definitely. Very idol-like. Should I be worried about competition?

Only if you think I can pull off sparkly outfits as well as you can, Y/N shot back, laughing as she typed.

Moments like these became their quiet escapes, a space where they could share laughter, confessions, and dreams without fear of judgment. Late one night, Irene sent a single message that lingered in Y/N’s mind long after their conversation ended:

I think you make me braver than I usually am.

Y/N stared at the words, rereading them several times before finally typing her reply:

And you make me better than I usually am.

For a while, neither of them said anything more. But as Y/N lay in bed, staring at her phone, she knew that their connection had grown into something neither of them had quite expected—but neither of them could deny.

One evening Y/N stared at her phone, rereading the half-typed message for the third time. She wasn’t usually one to hesitate, but something about Irene made her pause. After a moment, she sighed, deleted the draft, and hit the call button instead.

The phone rang twice before Irene’s soft voice answered, “Hello, Y/N.”

“Hey, Joohyun,” Y/N said, trying to sound casual while her heart thumped in her chest. “How’s your day going?”

“Busy,” Irene admitted with a chuckle. “But your call is a nice surprise.”

Y/N felt her confidence returning at Irene’s warm tone. “I was thinking… if you’re not too busy this weekend, would you like to go out with me again? Somewhere quiet, just the two of us?”

There was a pause, just long enough for Y/N to start second-guessing herself. But then Irene’s voice came through, soft but sure. “I’d like that. Do you have something in mind?”

Y/N exhaled a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “I do. It’s a surprise, though. I promise it’ll be worth it.”

“Then I’ll trust you,” Irene said, her smile evident in her voice.

The soft hues of twilight painted the horizon as Y/N finished setting up the picnic by the lake. She’d chosen a quiet park on the outskirts of the city, where the sound of rustling leaves and lapping water replaced the usual urban noise. A blanket was laid out with cushions for comfort, a small spread of food neatly arranged in wicker baskets, and warm, battery-powered candles flickered softly around the setup.

When Irene arrived, wearing a cream-colored coat and a delicate scarf, her eyes widened at the sight.

“You did all this?” Irene asked, her voice tinged with awe.

Y/N shrugged, though her cheeks flushed slightly. “I wanted it to feel special. I know how chaotic your life can get, and I thought… maybe we could both use a little peace.”

Irene’s lips curved into a soft smile. “You were right. This is perfect.”

They settled onto the blanket, and for a while, they ate and talked, their conversation punctuated by laughter. Y/N had packed sandwiches, fresh fruit, and even a small bottle of wine—though she brought sparkling water, knowing Irene didn’t drink much.

“I can’t believe you put all this together,” Irene said, taking a bite of a strawberry.

“Well, I can’t sing or dance like you,” Y/N teased, “but I’m pretty good at making picnics.”

Irene laughed, the sound light and melodic. “Don’t sell yourself short. I’m still thinking about your karaoke performance.”

“Oh no, you’re never letting me live that down, are you?” Y/N groaned, covering her face.

“Never,” Irene said with a playful smirk.

As the sun dipped lower, the conversation shifted to quieter topics. Irene talked about her favorite childhood memories, the joy of running through fields in Daegu without a care in the world. Y/N shared stories of road trips across Europe, painting a picture of freedom and adventure.

At one point, Irene leaned back on her hands, gazing at the lake as twilight deepened. “I don’t think I’ve ever been somewhere so quiet in the city. It’s… nice.”

Y/N nodded, her gaze fixed on Irene. “You deserve moments like this. A chance to just be Joohyun.”

Irene turned to her, her eyes warm. “And you make that feel possible. That’s rare.”

The words lingered between them, unspoken emotions carried in the stillness.

After a while, Y/N stood and extended a hand to Irene. “Come on.”

“What are we doing?” Irene asked, looking at her hand curiously.

“Trust me,” Y/N said with a grin.

Irene let herself be pulled up, and Y/N led her to the edge of the lake, where the water reflected the soft glow of the moonlight. Y/N took out her phone, scrolling to a playlist she’d prepared, and soft music filled the air.

“You made a playlist for this?” Irene asked, her tone incredulous but amused.

“Of course. What’s a picnic without music?” Y/N said, holding out her hand again. “Dance with me?”

Irene hesitated, glancing around. “Here? What if someone sees?”

“No one’s here,” Y/N reassured her. “And even if they were, we wouldn’t care. Just one dance.”

With a slight shake of her head and a soft smile, Irene stepped closer, letting Y/N take her hand. They swayed gently to the music, the world around them fading into the background.

“You’re terrible at this,” Irene teased as Y/N stepped on her foot.

“Hey, I said dance, not waltz,” Y/N shot back, laughing.

The laughter soon subsided, replaced by a comfortable silence as they continued to move together. When the song ended, Irene rested her head lightly on Y/N’s shoulder, her voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you for tonight. I don’t think I’ve ever had a date like this.”

Y/N smiled, her hand tightening slightly around Irene’s. “Then I’ll just have to make sure the next one is even better.”

As the evening wrapped up, they lingered for a few moments longer, reluctant to let the magic of the night end. Eventually, Y/N stood, offering Irene her hand once more. They gathered their things under the glow of the moonlight, their movements unhurried, savoring the last moments of their time together.

The quiet hum of the car engine filled the space as Y/N drove Joohyun home, the soft playlist she had chosen earlier still playing in the background. The conversation had grown quieter, not out of awkwardness but from the comfortable silence that had settled between them after the picnic.

As the car turned onto Joohyun’s street, she glanced at Y/N, her expression warm. “Thank you for tonight. It was… really special.”

Y/N smiled, briefly taking her eyes off the road to meet Joohyun’s gaze. “You don’t have to thank me. Spending time with you makes it special for me, too.”

Joohyun looked down, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. “You always know what to say, don’t you?”

“Only when I mean it,” Y/N replied softly.

When they reached Joohyun’s building, Y/N got out of the car, quickly moving to open the door for her. “I’ll walk you up,” Y/N offered, her voice casual but resolute.

Joohyun hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Alright.”

Inside, the building was quiet, the faint sound of the elevator humming as it carried them to her floor. They walked side by side down the hall, their footsteps muffled by the plush carpeting.

When they reached Joohyun’s door, she turned to face Y/N, her hands tucked into the pockets of her coat. “You really didn’t have to come all this way.”

“I wanted to,” Y/N said simply, her hands resting at her sides.

For a moment, neither of them spoke, the air between them charged with unspoken words. Y/N’s gaze softened as she looked at Joohyun, noticing the way the dim hallway light caught the delicate curve of her face.

Joohyun broke the silence first, her voice quieter now. “You make things feel… easier. Even when I feel like they shouldn’t be.”

Y/N’s lips curved into a small smile. “That’s all I want—to make things a little easier for you.”

Joohyun’s eyes lingered on Y/N’s for a moment longer before she stepped closer, her voice barely above a whisper. “You’re dangerous, you know that?”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile forming. “How so?”

“Because you make me forget all the rules I usually set for myself,” Joohyun admitted, her gaze flickering down briefly before returning to Y/N’s.

Y/N felt her heart skip a beat as she stepped forward, closing the small distance between them. “Maybe breaking a few rules isn’t so bad.”

Joohyun’s lips parted, her breath hitching slightly, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she tilted her head just enough, her eyes searching Y/N’s for permission.

Taking the silent invitation, Y/N leaned in, her movements slow and deliberate. When their lips met, the kiss was soft and tentative, like the first note of a song waiting to be composed. Joohyun’s hand came up to rest lightly on Y/N’s arm, and Y/N’s heart raced at the gentle touch.

When they pulled apart, Joohyun’s cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright. “I should probably go inside,” she said, though her voice lacked conviction.

Y/N smiled, her voice low but steady. “Goodnight, Joohyun.”

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Joohyun replied, lingering for a moment before stepping through her door.

As the door clicked shut, Y/N stood there for a beat longer, her lips still tingling from the kiss. She turned and walked back down the hall, her heart lighter than it had been in years.

The memory of the night stayed with her, replaying in quiet moments when she least expected it—Joohyun’s smile, the way her hand fit perfectly in hers, the soft warmth of her voice. It made the time between their meetings feel both endless and worth the wait.

Now, standing in her small kitchen, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a sense of disbelief at how effortlessly Joohyun had become a part of her life.

The faint aroma of garlic and spices filled Y/N’s small but cozy kitchen as Irene stood at the counter, meticulously chopping vegetables. Across from her, Y/N stirred a pot of pasta sauce, stealing glances at Irene every chance she got. The soft hum of music played in the background—a playlist of quiet, jazzy instrumentals Y/N had curated to set the mood.

The kitchen itself was modest but inviting, with clean countertops, a row of neatly arranged spices, and a small potted plant perched by the window. A set of mismatched mugs sat drying on a rack, hinting at the cups of tea they’d shared earlier.

“You’re unusually quiet,” Irene teased, not looking up from her chopping. “Is everything okay?”

“Just admiring your knife skills,” Y/N said with a grin. “I’m pretty sure you’ve got a future as a chef if this idol thing doesn’t work out.”

Irene rolled her eyes but smiled. “You flatter me too much.”

“Not possible,” Y/N replied warmly.

They worked seamlessly together, moving around the small kitchen with practiced ease. When Y/N accidentally spilled a bit of sauce on the counter, Irene smirked and handed her a towel, shaking her head in mock disapproval.

When dinner was ready, they carried the plates to the small dining table near the window, where a single candle flickered softly. Outside, the city lights glittered faintly against the evening sky, the view framed by sheer curtains.

“This might be the best meal I’ve had in a while,” Irene said after taking a bite.

“You’re just being nice,” Y/N said, though her cheeks turned pink.

“No, really,” Irene insisted. “Cooking with you makes it even better.”

After dinner, they moved to the couch, bowls of ice cream in hand, as the opening credits of a romantic comedy played on the TV. Y/N settled into the corner of the couch, and Irene curled up beside her, their shoulders brushing. The scent of vanilla lingered faintly in the air, mixing with the sweetness of their dessert.

As the movie unfolded, Y/N found herself paying less attention to the screen and more to Irene—the way she laughed at the cheesy jokes, the slight crinkle in her nose when a scene was overly dramatic, and the way her presence made the room feel warmer.

When the credits rolled, Y/N turned the TV off and set her empty bowl on the coffee table. She took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts as Irene remained curled beside her.

“Joohyun?” Y/N began, her voice softer than usual.

Irene tilted her head to look at her, a small smile on her lips. “Hmm?”

Y/N hesitated for a moment, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of the couch cushion. “I’ve been thinking a lot about us. About how much I’ve enjoyed spending time with you these past two months.”

Irene straightened slightly, her expression growing curious but unreadable.

“You’re… incredible,” Y/N continued, her words earnest. “You’re kind, strong, funny in ways you don’t even realize, and just being around you makes my days better. I know we come from different worlds, and I know this might be complicated, but… I care about you. A lot.”

Y/N paused, her heart pounding. “I want to be more than just… someone you spend time with. I want to be someone you can count on, someone who makes you happy. I want us to be something real.”

As the warmth of the moment settled between them, Y/N’s heart raced, yet she found herself calmed by Irene’s steady presence. The silence wasn’t heavy or awkward—it was charged with the unspoken possibilities of what could come next.

Irene’s hand, still lightly holding Y/N’s, tightened slightly, grounding her thoughts. Her soft smile turned into something deeper, more sincere. “Y/N..” Irene began, her voice even softer than before, “you make me feel… free. Like I can be myself without the weight of everything else.”

Y/N’s lips quirked into a gentle smile. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted to give you—a space to just be Joohyun, not Irene.”

Irene’s eyes glistened as she looked down for a moment, gathering her thoughts. “You have this way of making me forget the things that usually scare me—how complicated everything can be.”

Y/N’s voice softened, her tone sincere. “That’s not a bad thing, is it? Forgetting, even for a little while?”

Irene met her gaze again, her lips curving into a faint smile. “No. It’s not bad at all. It’s just… different. But good different.”

Y/N tilted her head slightly, her own smile widening. “I can work with ‘good different.’”

They both laughed softly, the tension giving way to a mutual understanding. Irene’s gaze drifted to their hands, now entwined. “I never thought I’d meet someone like you. Someone who sees me for me and doesn’t flinch at the messy parts.”

Y/N’s voice turned resolute. “That’s because every part of you, Joohyun, is worth seeing. The messy parts, the strong parts, the quiet parts—they all make you who you are. And I want to be there for all of it.”

Moved, Irene leaned forward, resting her forehead gently against Y/N’s. Their breaths mingled in the intimate closeness. “You already are,” she murmured.

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat as her eyes searched Irene’s, finding a quiet vulnerability that mirrored her own. For a moment, neither of them moved, the air charged with a palpable tension. Y/N raised her hand slowly, her fingers brushing against Irene’s cheek, tentative yet full of intent.

Irene’s eyes fluttered closed, and the smallest of smiles tugged at her lips as she tilted her head just slightly—a silent invitation. Y/N leaned in, their faces so close she could feel the warmth of Irene’s breath.

When their lips met, it was soft and unhurried, a delicate exploration that spoke more than words ever could. Irene’s hand came up to rest lightly on Y/N’s arm, her touch anchoring the moment in quiet certainty. The kiss deepened slightly, tender and warm, leaving them both breathless yet content.

When they pulled apart, their foreheads touched once more, a shared smile passing between them like a quiet promise.

The weight of Irene’s words settled warmly in Y/N’s chest, and she couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face. Tentatively, she raised her free hand, brushing a strand of hair from Irene’s face. “So, where do we go from here?”

Irene pulled back slightly to look into Y/N’s eyes, her expression both vulnerable and determined. “We take it one day at a time. No rush, no pressure. Just us.”

Y/N nodded, the sincerity in Irene’s words anchoring her. “I like the sound of that.”

Their moment was interrupted by the soft patter of rain against the windows, a cozy rhythm that matched the beating of their hearts. Y/N glanced toward the window and smiled. “Looks like the universe is in on our mood.”

Irene followed her gaze and chuckled. “Maybe it’s trying to tell us something.”

“Like what?” Y/N asked, her tone playful.

“That we should stay here, wrapped up in the warmth of this moment,” Irene replied, her voice tinged with amusement and affection.

Without thinking, Y/N reached for the throw blanket on the back of the couch and draped it over their laps. “Well, who am I to argue with the universe?”

As the rain picked up, the two settled back into the couch, Irene leaning her head on Y/N’s shoulder. They didn’t need to fill the silence with words—the quiet companionship between them said everything. For the first time in a long while, both felt at peace, the weight of their separate worlds momentarily forgotten.

Y/N looked down at Irene, whose eyes had fluttered closed. “Joohyun?”

“Hmm?” Irene replied without opening her eyes.

“I meant what I said earlier,” Y/N whispered. “I want us to be something real. Something lasting.”

Irene smiled faintly, her voice heavy with drowsiness but steady with conviction. “We already are.”

And as the rain continued its steady cadence, the two remained wrapped in each other’s presence, content with the quiet promise of what was to come.

[firelilyfox]

Clueless at 3 a.m.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Summary: The Internet has been a weird place for Bucky and his friends having a blast making fun of him.

Words: 1k ish

Warnings: friends mocking each other (so none lol)

———————————————————————

„Can you send me the meme with the running chicken? I wanna send it to my nephews.“ Sam asked with his phone in one hand. 

„Yeah give me a minute.“ You searched for his chat. 

Steve entered the kitchen and gave Bucky a friendly nudge. He was watching you and Sam talking about memes and reels for about solid twenty minutes with a confused look on his face. „What are they doing?“ 

Bucky turns his head slightly. „I have not the slightest idea. But they acting like its something important.“ 

„She should be with Tony right now to plan Peppers birthday party for next week. Did she forgot?“ Steve mumbles to his friend. 

You roll your eyes and turn around. Both of them had their arms crossed in front of their chests and were standing wide legged, watching you like bodyguards. But only Bucky had a softness in his eyes that exposes him as your boyfriend. 

„No she did not forget. She can also hear you perfectly fine and it is indeed something important.“ You walked over to Bucky who instantly untangled his arms to wrap them around your waist. He leaned down a bit and you came halfway up on your tiptoes to give him a kiss. 

Sam sighted. „C’mon guys. Next to you everyone feels extra single these days.“ 

„Let them be happy, Sam. They deserve it. At least we don’t have to hear them crush on each other anymore, like we did when they weren’t together yet.“ Steve cringed. „So much drama.“ 

„Watch it Rogers“, Bucky snaps. „You are my friend but I would still kick your ass.“ 

„Enough. All of you.“ Sam pointed at you. „You need to help me find this one video we talked about yesterday. My sister will love that.“ 

„Oh yeah I think I saw it on YouTube. I can look it up and send you the link.“ You offered, making an effort to free yourself from Buckys grip. He unwillingly let you go back to your laptop on the kitchen counter. 

You closed the tabs with the documents for that upcoming birthday party and searched for the video Sam wanted. A presence appeared behind you and not a second later you could feel Buckys chin resting on your shoulder. You glanced to him out of the corner of your eye. He was focused on the website. The curious and innocent look on his face made you grin. He really has no clue about the internet. 

„Geez Buck. Can you keep your hands off her for just a second?“ Sam jokes on the other side of the kitchen counter. 

He glances over to him. „No. Can you admit that your nephews will never think your cool even if you send them this meme stuff?“ 

Steve laughs with one hand on his chest. „Oh he got you.“ 

„Your just insecure because you don’t know what we are talking about. Bet you never saw a video and have no idea what a meme is.“ Sam points at Bucky with his phone, challenging him. But he just shrugs. 

„Don’t have to. My girlfriend can explain it to me.“ And with that he gives you a long kiss. You smile at the snickering from Sam and Steve as they leave you alone in the kitchen. 

„I really have to go help Tony. He went all mastermind this morning and planned way to much details. Pepper will kill me if I don’t stop him writing her name all over the sky.“ 

Bucky nods and brushes a kiss on your forehead. „Then you better get going and stop that maniac from overdoing it. Again.“ 

„Will do.“ You kiss him on the jawline. „Love you, Buck.“ 

„Love you too, doll.“ 

You were long asleep as someone shakes you and ripped away that wonderful dream about Bucky doing something … really thoughtful. 

„Y/n. Wake up!“ 

Confused and a bit annoyed you look up to Sam. He had a big smile and something mischievous crossed his face. „Sam? Why are you waking me?“ You looked at the digital clock on the nightstand. „It’s fucking 3 am!“ 

You create a mental list: 

First: Get revenge on Sam for interrupting that very interesting dream. 

Second: Tell Bucky about your dream and convince him to recreate it the next time the two of you get to be alone. 

„I know. I know! But it’s important. It’s about Bucky.“ 

Your head snaps to the other side of your mattress. Empty. Bucky should be sleeping there peacefully. Fear hits you like an ice cold brick and you get up to jump out of the bed. 

„Where is he? What happened?“ 

Sam shushes you. „Nothing bad. I promise. But you have to see this.“ 

Your trembling heartbeat started to calm down and you follow Sams instructions to stay still. He leads you down the hallway, into the living room. Without making a sound he tells you to look around the corner. You hesitate at first. But then a weird noise catches your interest and with a last look to Sam, who is now nodding like a exited child, you risk a look in the living room. 

On the sofa sat Bucky. In full darkness except for the screen of your laptop wich was placed in his lap. He was sitting with his back turned to you, so he didn’t notice you creeping around the corner. 

And you had to control every fiber of your being to not laugh out loud. Because there was Bucky, sitting in the darkness at 3 am, watching funny cat videos on YouTube. 

The former Winter Soldier. Feared by everyone. Respectable Avenger with a grumpy attitude. White Wolf. Chuckling because of clumsy cats. 

Your heart flooded with love and threatened to explode. This man was the most adorable thing you had ever witnessed. 

„This is the best moment in my entire life“, Sam whispered with a spiteful smile. And reached for his phone to film Bucky.

You punched his shoulder. „Don’t you dare ruin this for him.“ 

„But look at him! C’mon y/n.“ 

You gave him your best I’m-gonna-kill-you look and Sam dropped it with an dramatic eyeroll. He will definitely tease Bucky the first thing in the morning. 

Kids, you thought in silence. 

About an hour later you could feel the mattress lowering behind your back, when Bucky came back to bed. He let out a sigh and wrapped his arm around you to pull you against his bare chest. 

„I think we should get a cat.“ 

You suppress a laugh and turned around to kiss his cheek. „Yeah I think that’s a wonderful idea.“ 

——————————————

Thanks for reading 💙 all interactions are highly appreciated! (Please don’t copy my work)

Bucky Barnes Masterlist 🦾

[piplup335]

Guest 1337 x reader!

note: in this story, he never got married! now with that aside, to the note we go :D

*ahem*

HELLO, F E L L A S

“omg no way, 2 stories in a week???1?1!!?” HECK YEAH BOIII

I felt a bit silly and tried out what I like to call a 1 hour challenge! :D

basically, it involves me cooking up a story within an hour :,) I can’t do it for my requests as sticking to a specific prompt takes more time, sorry! ;-;

but yeah, wrote this for the sillies, so on this platform it goes :D

enjoy! :)

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You had a normal life. Had.

You enjoyed your days in the real world. You had a job you liked, parents you loved, and a life with a nice work-life balance. The only thing you didn't have was a romantic partner, but you were still content with your life.

You were just a regular person.

So why did fate have to be so cruel to you?

Why did it decide to throw you, of all people, into a cruel loop of life and death? Why did you have to be ripped away from everything and everyone you once knew?

You weren't so different from the others, you soon found out.

When you saw the other survivors for the first time, you were too scared to talk to them. But after taking a few hits for Dusekkar and giving a medkit to Builderman, they slowly started to warm up to you.

Instead of seeing you as just another survivor, they saw you as an ally. A companion that could be trusted. A familiar face, another beacon of hope that they could get through another round.

Slowly but surely, you started to act more naturally around the other survivors. You laughed more at Shedletsky's crappy jokes. You let Elliot heal you with a pizza to the face while Jason was chasing you. Every face you saw was no longer that of a stranger, but a friend.

And once everything was said or done, win or lose, the survivors would respawn and return to the cabin they called home to rest until the Spectre, the very thing that threw you into this forsaken realm, grouped up everyone for yet another dance with death.

Over time, you got to know everyone better. Elliot, the pizza boy. 007n7, a retired hacker for good, now a dad wishing to reconnect with his son. Shedletsky, Dusekkar and Builderman, all with experience as Robloxia's governors. You could relate to Noob- a regular fella who got thrown in for seemingly no reason.

But there was no one you could connect to as much as Guest 1337.

The both of you were quite similar. Stripped away from everyone and everything the two of you loved and cared about.

He lost his family, his friends, everything. He lost everything. Cruelly torn away from everything like it was but cheap fabric.

You could almost see yourself in him.

The two of you bonded over that, even during rounds. You'd give some of your supplies to him and distract the killer when his health got low. Guest would block the killer's attacks for you and distract the killer long enough for you to find Elliot and heal up.

After rounds, the both of you would sit on the couch in the living room, chatting about your previous lives as the flames danced and crackled around the logs in the fireplace.

Eventually, the both of you slowly fell for each other. You were his everything, and he was yours. The both of you became each other's cornerstones...the only thing preventing any of you from going insane.

Guest confessed first while the both of you were in the middle of a round. It was adorable, because he was blushing furiously when he did. Instead of the tough, no-nonsense soldier you were so used to seeing, you saw a blushing mess, like a high school teenager confessing to their crush for the first time. Of course, you accepted his confession...and he was so ecstatic and touched, that he ended up kissing you right then and there.

It was as if the both of you had finally completed each other.

The both of you found one thing, something that was always out of reach.

Someone to love.

John Doe walked in on the both of you kissing, but instead of impaling the both of you with spikes, he paused at the doorway...as if he remembered something. But he seemed to shake it off and walk away without disturbing the moment.

At least he was nice about it.

Regardless, a relatively brutal round had just ended. Jason's relentless hunt killed the vast majority of the survivors, with you, Guest and Elliot remaining. Thankfully, Elliot was skilled at dodging Jason's machete swings...otherwise, the round might have lasted for a bit longer than anyone would've liked. Any of the survivors, at least.

Both you and Guest were exhausted. The two of you just wanted to rest and relax after a long day...and that was what brought you to this point.

You were curled up in Guest's arms, your face pressed up to his torso.

"Dearest, you're warm..."

The male looked down at you. He adored how you looked, wrapped up in the sheets with your cheek pressed up against him. You looked so peaceful in this state...

"And you look adorable, my love."

You let out a sleepy chuckle and wrapped your arms around him, pulling yourself closer to him. You loved him so much...and you never wanted this moment to end. You loved everything about him- from the battle scars that never really healed to his blue hair, usually neatly combed and styled, now all over the place because of how much you messed with it.

"...you're comfortable...I could fall asleep like this because of you, Guest..."

You felt one of his hands moving behind your head, his fingers tenderly carding through your hair and messing it up slightly. His free hand snaked down to your waist to rub small, soothing circles on your back.

"Holding you in my arms makes me feel complete, (Y/n). I never imagined I'd love someone as much as I love you now...but here we are. Just you and me after a long day..."

The combined sensations coupled with the low rumble of Guest's voice was too relaxing for you. You were already exhausted from the round, and being in your lover's arms only made you feel drowsy and tired. You needed to sleep.

"Guest...? I'm tired..."

He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. A kiss with so much love behind it.

"Sleep, my love. I'll be here to watch over you."

You would never get tired of his kisses. But you were tired now, that was for sure. You felt so safe and secure in his arms, like a protective shield from whatever this dimension had in store for you...

...but now was not the time to stress about the future. You got through the round, and now it was time to rest.

"Goodnight, Guest...I love you..."

You closed your eyes and began to drift off.

Just before you dozed off into the realm of nothingness, you managed to catch a soft, loving whisper right beside you.

"I love you too, (Y/n). Sleep well."

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and that’s it for this story! take care, and I’ll see you all soon! :D

[pugh-bug]

Voiceless

Paul Atreides x servant reader

SFW, quite angsty with some fluff

Word count: 2,105

First Dune fic, I hope you enjoy! I know people follow me for Challengers content mostly but this was so nice to write for a change. I hope everyone has a great New Years <3

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You had been Paul’s servant for two years. He’d hand picked you out of a line up of seventeen and kept a close eye on you from the moment you began washing his suits. It was no secret to Jessica, his Mother, that her son harboured certain feelings for you but if kept at bay she knew you posed no threat. Despite that unshakable belief, you’d catch her commanding stare several times a day. The one that said you are nothing, never forget it.

It took several months of unprofessional, longing looks and delicate hand touches before Paul finally kissed you and since then your life had been consumed by a need for him. Sometimes it frightened you. The hours in between seeing him stretched on endlessly, you’d find yourself staring at walls waiting. You did a lot of it and it only got worse the closer Paul became to inheriting his Father’s title. His duties were greater, his training was longer and the weight of responsibility was heavier. You had to make the most of every minute spent together and those were becoming few and far between.

“Gurney should be more careful.” Paul flinched as you caressed his bruised rib, your fingers barely grazing the blackened flesh. “You should dodge, you’re just giving me more work.” You gestured to the rip in his tunic, already dreading the needle work. His shirts were getting so frayed there was barely enough sturdy fabric to stitch together. It used to hurt you to see Paul so beaten but two years of licking his wounds and kissing his scars had left you numb to the sight.

“Can you do something for me?”

Paul didn’t miss the tightness in your voice and the insecurity brewing in the room as he awaited your request.

“I can’t take another evening of being your servant and nothing more in front of your family. Please… please ask for Milena.”

Milena was the ‘middle man servant’, her job was to be on call incase any Atreides needed a temporary replacement. Paul never asked for her, he always found her incessant desire to please irritating.

“Paul?”

He hadn’t spoken for a few moments.

“Milena’s serving Feyd. His servant is still missing.” Missing but presumed dead was the rumour. You hoped for her sake that she was. Whether she was or wasn’t didn’t help your dilemma however. Paul squeezed your hand, his eyes scanning your reaction despite knowing your thoughts. He knew you inside and out, it was unnerving how much power he had over you. What you loved was how little satisfaction that truth brought him. He did his best to ignore it - to level the playing field. Impossible of course but try he did for you.

“I could-“

You raised your hand in polite protest, feeling a sigh come on.

“No. I’ll endure it.”

Paul brushed a piece of hair off your forehead before gifting you a tender kiss. You’d see him in the morning.

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“Quickly.”

To keep up appearances you’d had to sleep in the servants quarters and were paying the price for the hard beds as you poured drinks. Course after course you brought out, feeling Paul’s eyes on you at every turn but Feyd’s as well. Unwelcome as his attention was, it did provide Paul a reason to show his possessive side. That was welcome.

“Have you been practising Paul?” The harsh tones of Jessica silenced the jolly table. Duncan, suddenly mesmerised by the door, ceased his chatting and braced himself for the voice. Jessica used the voice on you at least once a week, when Paul was away, to punish you for the sin of being you. It never became a force you grew accustomed to, in fact on occasion it felt stronger. The first promise Paul ever made was that he would never use the voice on you. A promise he’d never break for anyone.

“Yes.”

Liar.

Jessica stared Paul down across the silenced table of hungry guests. Everyone’s eyes were fixated on the pair and what they were going to do next. Who would they choose as the recipient? Standing behind Paul, as was traditional for servants, you avoided his Mother’s smug gaze. As the white hand of Feyd Rautha snaked tightly around his glass, Paul stared at Milena.

“SIT DOWN.”

Immediately Milena found herself sitting on the cold, unforgiving stone of the hall - her face in shock. You didn’t miss the elation in Feyd’s face. Fixated on Paul’s movements, he stood up from his chair and demanded to ‘see it again’. Paul refused.

The rest of the dinner went smoothly. You did your duties as expected, paying Paul no mind and taking plates away as swiftly as you brought them. Milena wiped the sweat from her brow on the back of her hand before serving Feyd his final platter, earning her a disgusted look from Jessica. Nothing was out of the ordinary until later.

“What’s your name?”

Everyone had left: the staff, the guests, the hosts and Paul. He couldn’t wait for you as it would arouse suspicion. You and the man before you were alone.

“Do you like being Atreides cattle?” The man circling you, asking probing questions, was Feyd. His eyes ran shamelessly over your face and body, you had to suppress the shiver of disgust surging through you.

“I’m sorry?”

Feyd loomed over you, his wolf like intimidation efforts reminding you of an old rhyme. One your Mother had once read you.

“For she could not move whilst she did know of the rumbling, thundering beast below.”

The beast before you spoke in a husky voice you found repulsive but words spoken with black tongues often lose their charm. “You’re wasted as a servant,” Oh. Paul would be beside himself. “I could look after you,” spoken by a man who fed off the suffering of others. “If you were my mistress you’d belong to me.” He ceased his predatory circling so his feet almost touched your own and his eyes could soak up your horror. “Belong only to me.”

“The beast knew only of her pain

And the suffering he brought her again and again.”

You steadied your breath refusing to look at the floor, tempting as it was. Feyd’s eyes chilled you. “You have two days,” he whispered before grinning unpleasantly. “There’s a lot of women who’d die to be in your position.”

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“And then what?”

Paul faced the bed, not you. His voice was unreadable.

“I left! I felt like an ant, what am I supposed to tell him? A servant turned mistress is seen as a great opportunity by so many here that I-“ you felt your blood pressure rise with every word. “I fear I can’t say no to him - if - if I do I need a reason. A proper reason. I can’t say no for the sake of it, I’d need to be diseased or married.”

You pictured Jessica’s smug face watching you drag your used body from Feyd’s room to the kitchens, knowing you were apart from her son. Knowing she’d won.

“Surely it’ll pass, he has the attention span of a gnat. He has a reputation-“

“I’m well aware of his reputation Paul, why do you think I’m panicked?”

Paul looked at you with a mixture of pity and fear. Though he tried to minimise Feyd as a villain in his mind he couldn’t ignore the very real risk he posed. He was becoming worse, the walls were whispering about it. He wasn’t just an arrogant boy playing with others for his own entertainment anymore, he was psychotic.

“I-“

Knock knock

Your heart sank knowing someone was about to pull Paul away and as was routine you’d have to look busy when they did.

“Paul? Gurney is waiting for you.”

You didn’t bother to watch him leave, knowing he’d run after anyone who needed him but you. His love but always his servant.

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The sun hit your face reassuringly the next morning with the promise of something good on the horizon. What it was you couldn’t think or dare to guess.

“Y/N?”

You turned your head to see Paul, he must have climbed into bed without waking you. A difficult task. He looked beautiful in the morning with his mop of curls and slightly confused expression. His dark eyes met your own as you curled into his warmth. “Does this mean I’m forgiven?” Paul smiled down at you, snaking an arm around your shoulders. Smug.

“I want it to.”

His eyes held sadness in them at your words, at the disappointment on your face. He’d let you down again, he knew that much. Being a Duke’s son, inheriting an empire and the knowledge of the Bene Gesserit didn’t align with you. As much as the two of you denied it the truth was you didn’t belong in each others worlds. Thinking just that, and resenting it, Paul ran his fingers through your hair and kissed you.

“So beautiful…”

You melted at his morning voice and his words, the way he looked at you as if you were all that mattered. If only that were true. You kissed him back with all the love in your being, pulling him close to you. You wanted to keep him with you ‘always’ as you had once said in the night unbeknownst to sleeping Paul.

“I love you.”

As soon as the words left your lips you felt assured you’d needed to say them. They were always bound to burst out of you at some point and the day before Feyd took you in his clutches seemed as good as any. Paul beamed at you and with only the smallest bit of hesitation, as he had to take in your words, returned them. “I love you.” Your heart could have sang but instead the door flew open and the frenzied face of Jessica stared at you.

Paul jumped at the sight of his Mother, grasping for the duvet to cover you both. “Stand up.” Jessica snapped, only looking at you with more disdain than ever. You wrapped the covers around yourself, trying to keep some dignity intact but you knew what was to happen. You watched the floor and waited for the inevitable, feeling the happiness of the morning dissipate all too soon.

“Am I dismissed?”

“You must think me an angel.”

Jessica clasped her hands together before taking intentionally slow steps towards you. “You’re to be banished…” Another step. “You’ll never see these halls or anyone in them again.” Paul’s eyes grew wide as his Mother dulled out her punishment. “I’ll ensure no one will hire you as a whore least of all a servant.”

“You will not speak to her like that Mother.”

Both of you turned to Paul in surprise, neither of you expecting him to defend you but never the less his face was defiant. There wasn’t an ounce of regret in his eyes. Jessica pursed her lips in disappointment. “Don’t be so naive. You know who you are Paul, you’re above this. You’re above her.”

“SILENCE.”

The voice…

His own Mother…

“Y/N is my future wife.”

Your ears must have deceived you, or were you dreaming? Had you fallen asleep in Paul’s arms again? ‘Future wife’…Your heart felt as though it were vibrating, not pounding but spinning inside your chest. You didn’t dare look at Jessica, whose face was surely enraged, instead your eyes met Paul’s. There was nothing but tenderness in them.

You were going to be free.

As if his Mother was gone and of no importance, Paul rushed to you. He squeezed your hand and smiled reassuringly. “Y/N…” It had all become so clear, so simple. Paul had loved you quietly but he wouldn’t anymore. “Will you have me?” Such a modest request from the second most important man of Caladan. You hardly registered the sound of Jessica’s footsteps of retreat as Paul spoke, all you heard were his words. His proposal. Finally a proposal.

You couldn’t speak, you were out of words. All there was for you to do was throw your arms around his neck and kiss him breathlessly. When you finally pulled away Paul was beaming, feeling almost as free as you. No one could harm the wife of a future Duke, he wouldn’t allow it. Feyd would rot and so would his Mother’s hate and you would never clean a plate again.

“I’ve never loved anyone else, I never will.”

No longer would you be a dutiful servant, waiting in the wings for a moment that never came.

“I’ll love you forever.”

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Masterlist

Resources 🇵🇸🇸🇩🇨🇩

[pseudowho]

In from the Cold

(help me find the Nanami artist in the banner, for crediting and thanks/permission!)

After a mission gone wrong, the Reader is left wandering confused, cold and alone in the biting snow- only Nanami Kento can save you, and warm you up.

WARNINGS: Angst, fluff, smut, PIV intercourse, fingering, handjobs, fluffy intercourse

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"[...]The only other sound’s the sweep    Of easy wind and downy flake.   

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,    But I have promises to keep,    And miles to go before I sleep,    And miles to go before I sleep."

-- Robert Frost, Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

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"[...] Hurt myself again today And, the worst part is there's no-one else to blame

Be my friend, hold me Wrap me up, enfold me I am small and needy Warm me up and breathe me."

-- Sia, Breathe Me

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Oh, god, Kento. Please find me. I'm so cold. I'm so cold. I'm so tired. I'm so afraid to fall asleep, in case I never get to say goodbye. In any other world, in any other universe, you would find me and I'd be warm.

Curled on wet cardboard boxes against a stack of bins, the shivers had now stopped. You felt the cold deep in your belly as you fought desperately against sleep. Blinking away tears, the thick falling snow and orange streetlights bled together, and you felt yourself drift, heavy, unmoving...

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The day had started like any other. Pulling on your usual mission attire, Kento leaned in and gave you a smooth goodbye kiss while pulling his tie through its loop. Separate missions, separate sides of the city, and neither expected to be much of a challenge to a pair of seasoned, competent sorcerers.

You gripped Kento's hair and pulled him back for a second kiss, his chest rumbling with a deep chuckle.

"Go, love," he had warned, faux-stern as he squeezed your hips, "if we're done with work fast, I'll be all yours, all evening."

You groaned against his lips, and nuzzled into his firm neck, breathing deeply of his smell; a spiced cologne, deep and woody and undeniably Kento.

"Promises, promises, darling. I'll bring the wine, you bring the bread and cheese?" Murmuring his assent into your hair, you reluctantly pulled away, mischief sparkling in your eyes. Kento turned you by the shoulders, and when he patted your bum towards the door, you laughed.

"Be safe, Kento. I love you!" and you had swept out the doorway as Kento shook his head fondly. You stepped out into the bitter cold, hailing a taxi- you would get yourself there today, but Ijichi was on call to collect you later. Enjoying the peace of a taxi journey where neither you nor the driver wished to chat, you rested your forehead against the window and watched as the first fat flakes of snow fell upon the Tokyo streets.

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Many hours had passed. Your curse had been much stronger, more vicious and tenacious than expected. With absolute focus, skill and determination, you had cleansed the abandoned hospital of its filthy inhabitant, and stood shaking, dazed and alone.

As you struggled to collect your thoughts, your arms were heavy as lead as they tried to take stock of your body, your injuries. Multiple and minor, you determined, but a firm crack to the temple as you had been swept aside by a thrashing tail, left your head throbbing and fuzzy.

Pipes had been wrenched from the walls and spewed frigid water. You were soaked through, and as the adrenaline faded you began to shiver, deep violent shivers all the way through to your stomach. Your mask and glasses were shattered across the floor. Face bare, and vision impaired, you reached into your pocket grasping your phone in its ziplock bag.

With despair, you looked down at your phone. It was utterly ruined, smashed and soaked, ziplock bag ripped open by the cracked and warped glass of the device.

Nodding slowly to yourself, and glancing out the first floor windows into the pale of the night, the eerie glow told you the snow had fallen deep and thick upon the ground.

Ijichi will be here by now, you reasoned to yourself. I'll be home and in a nice hot bath before I know it.

You wobbled towards the staircase, assuring yourself you were fine. Gripping the bannister, you took the flight of stairs at an unsteady pace. Your fingers felt like putty, cold and numb against the dark wood.

You pushed the ageing front doors open, hearing the frosted chains clank, broken, against the metal. Looking onto the streets eagerly for Ijichi, you did not notice the sheets of ice beneath the fresh snow on the steps, and slid backwards hard, your head cracking on the concrete.

Crying out, coughing and winded, you slid down the rest of the steps. Vision blurring, you raised a tentative hand to the back of your head, wincing as you felt the sharp tang of split skin. The bleeding seemed minimal, but your head only throbbed harder.

Pulling yourself up from the snow, you heard only the sounds of snow-hushed suburbia. The old hospital was on the outskirts of Tokyo, now silent and abandoned, and faint orange streetlights ahead of you told of a quiet street, its residents all in bed, or soon to be. Ijichi was nowhere in sight.

Unlike him, you thought to yourself with a gulp. Body still wracked with shivers, pain, and confusion, you took a meandering walk through the crunching snow, all the way around the hospital.

As your path reconnected with your original footprints, which were now softened by continued snowfall, you were forced to conclude that Ijichi was not here.

Growing colder and more confused, you set your pace firmly towards the street ahead. If you could find a phone, work out exactly where you were, or hail a taxi home, you would be fine. Patting your pockets with rubbery fingers, you felt for your thin purse, always stocked with emergency cash and your bank card.

Your heart sank. Gone, and lost, somewhere in the chaos of the fight. No phone. No cards. No cash. No idea where you were. You stared helplessly back at the hospital, now as good as miles away with the state you were in. You stood at a crossroads between houses, each rolling street looking just the same as the next, but you saw the Tokyo skyscrapers in the distance and set your course.

Your clothes soon became stiff with the blood and water, and snow collected in your hair, body and soul feeling dank, heavy and wet. Desperate, you hesitated by a house with a light on downstairs. Maybe they'll let me use their phone? At your first step towards the front door, the downstairs lift switched off and you halted.

You laughed bitterly to yourself, at your thought that a soaked and blood covered stranger in the night, and a foreigner no less, would be welcomed into this Tokyo home. If they didn't slam the door, they'd simply call the Police.

No, you thought, best bet is just to keep walking and get home to Kento. Get home to Kento. Get home to Kento. You continued these words like a mantra as you walked, and walked, and walked, dead-legged and deeply, concerningly cold now, and it just went on and on and on, and even when you started passing shops and restaurants and strangers who veered around you with hands clasped over their mouths and words of shock to their friends and partners you just kept walking dazed and lost now and so tired and so cold and you just needed a rest before you carried on into the night and the laughter from bars and music from clubs washed over you as you lost your footing again and again and took a tumble down an alleyway desperate for somewhere out of the snow and fell onto wet cardboard against a bin that was so comfortable as you rested your weary spinning head.

You started to sob, soft and pathetic, whispering pleas for Kento to come to you, to carry you home, to whisper sweet things in your ears. You were too far gone to see reason or a way out, feeling your brain shut down in the cold.

"Hey, hey! What have we got here? Hey cutie, are you lost?" You glanced up feebly to see three or four shadows leaning over you, all men, and the smell of beer hit your nose.

"Please can you help me?" you stuttered in broken Japanese, "I'm so cold."

The shadows laughed and jeered, and you felt a hand grip your arm to pull you up, as the man in front cooed, "Don't you worry sweetheart, we can get you nice and warm, right boys?"

Another, familiar voice cut through the alleyway, dark and threatening.

"Get your filthy fucking hands off her. If her fiancé doesn't rip your dicks off, I'm happy to oblige."

You were dropped back against the bin as the men scattered, and cool long fingers pulled your face upwards to see the face of Satoru, your dear friend, hair as white as the snow. He pulled you up easily with one arm, his other hand pressing his phone to his ear.

"Nanami. I've got her. I've got her. Come to the car, now." Satoru hung up, and bent down, hoisting you onto his back. "Bet you've never been so happy to see me, huh, kiddo?" His attempt at lightheartedness was tight and easily gave away his fear. You clutched at his jacket, weeping with relief, and opening your eyes as you heard frantic footsteps rush to reach you and Satoru.

"Shit, Gojo, where did you find her? Shit, shit, shit, she's soaked. Darling, are you awake?"

A goofy smile on your face, you gazed at Kento like you'd seen an angel; absolute panic on his usually stoic face, hair messy and wet, and bundling you from Gojo's back into the back of the car, he was still just as handsome as you always knew him.

"Gojo, give me your shirt, anything warm and dry. I've got to undress her. You drive."

You felt Kento's huge warm fingers begin to deftly rid you of your sodden clothes. Satoru, unusually serious and quiet, put the heating on full blast and rumbled the car to life. You remained impassive and smiling blankly at Kento as he pulled Gojo's shirt and his own shirt onto your cold body. He slipped off his shoes, removed his socks and pulled them onto your own, holding your toes between his hands and breathing hot breath onto them. Wrapping his overcoat around you, Kento pulled you into his lap, covering you in as much of his body as he could manage. Warmth washed over you, Kento's body a furnace. He pushed your hands under his undershirt, chilly against his solid chest. You hummed happily, curling your toes, finally safe. You drifted in and out of sleep, taking in snippets of conversation.

"Ijichi...miscommunication...thought he was supposed to get me..."

"No word from her...hours and hours...lost."

You snapped out of your thoughts as Kento insisted that Gojo drive you to Jujutsu High, to wake up Shoko, to spend the night there.

"No!" you blurted out, and both men looked to you, Satoru in the rear view mirror, "No, I'm okay. I just need a warm bath, a warm bed and some plasters. I'm alright. I'm already feeling a lot better."

Kento looked at you like you'd grown another head as Satoru laughed.

"See, Nanami? She's great! No weaklings in this car tonight!"

Kento scowled at him. "She's clearly concussed, Gojo. She's taken at least two knocks to the head. She goes to Shoko, no arguments."

"She's not concussed! Hey kiddo, what's the capital of Azerbaijan?"

"Satoru, I don't know that and I'm damn sure you don't either."

Satoru laughed again, "Alright, what's my favourite drink?"

"You don't drink."

"Ding ding ding! Correct. What's Megumi's surname?"

"Fushiguro."

"Correct again! What month is it?"

"December," you said warmly, excited and reminded of your festive plans with Kento.

Kento had remained silent throughout, peering down at you, and now met your eyes. Reading you gently, he caressed your cheek. "Are you sure? I'd never forgive myself...if you're hurt..."

You put your finger to his lips.

"All I need right now is you, a hot bath, and home."

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"Ah ah ah, what do you think you're doing?" Kento stood from his stool by the bathroom door, as you began to pull yourself out of the bath. Shirtless, Kento reached his arms into the water, lifting your bruised bodily easily against his own. Ignoring your demands for him to put you down, that he'd get all wet, that you were perfectly capable of walking, he carried you to bed, placing you onto a nest of towels and beginning to lovingly dry you. You softened as he continued in silence, serious and committed in his attentiveness. As he finished drying your feet, he lifted your ankle to his shoulder, kissing your calf gently as you reached forward to brush your thumb against his cheek.

He placed your leg gently down and turned to the drawers behind him, rummaging for pyjamas.

"I don't want them, Kento. I just want you. Your skin on mine."

With a quiet hum, he closed the drawers, and flipped the covers of the bed. Leaning over you, he placed your arms around the back of his neck. You clasped your hands, and he crawled smoothly up the bed, resting you on the pillows and settling beside you with a sigh. Chest to chest, Kento held you, silently nuzzling into your damp hair.

A residual shiver crept along your skin, the memory of the cold still deep within your body, ice cubes in your belly and muscles. Kento felt tense, and you nuzzled into his throat, yearning forthe heat inside that only he could give you. You licked delicately along the front of his throat, raising your thigh up insistently over his hip.

Kento's body stiffened, and he grasped your thigh in his broad palm.

"Don't even try it," he growled, "you've just been through hell, you are injured, and you need to rest." He groaned as you rocked your hips against his, bare pussy whispering against the material of his pyjamas. Gripping your hip firmly, he pressed you back into the bed and loomed over you, thigh still pinned between your legs.

Kento faltered at your expression, tearful and pleading. "I can't get rid of the cold. It's so deep, I was so afraid. Please Kento. I need you to warm me up."

Kento swallowed thickly. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't. You could never hurt me." You took his hand, and guided it down your breasts and tummy, ghosting against you as you rested it between your legs.

Resolve broken, Kento laid his body firmly against yours, grinding deftly between your legs. He shuddered, his own eyes narrowed and dark, and kissed you softly, the wetness of his tongue against your own making you moan into his open mouth.

One hand working delicately between your folds, and the other grasping the back of your neck, he dipped one finger inside your pussy to gather its wetness, and brought the finger, agonisingly slowly, back up to stroke circles over your clit. Bringing his face down to your breasts, seemingly unable to look you in the eyes, he glossed his tongue over your nipple, taking it fully into his mouth and moaning around it as he played your body like an instrument.

Warmth began to spread through you, and you whispered your moans and his name like a psalm, rocking against his fingers as he stroked two fingers deep inside you, his thumb continuing circles on your clit with patient consistency. Your hand grasped his hair, hard, as you panted and whined, feeling your orgasm approach.

Feeling his cock, hard and heavy against your leg, you ground up into him and were rewarded with a heady moan against your breast.

"My love," he gasped, as you reached down a hand inside his pyjamas, squeezing his length, his stuttering moans and sticky precum the last element you needed to push you over the edge. You cried out his name, squeezing his cock and hair as heat filled your belly and waves of pleasure rolled through you. Kento buried his face into your neck, slowly thrusting, thick and long, into your hand. He was silent as he kicked off his pyjamas, and, taking your grasping hand from his length, he laced your fingers with his and pinned it above his head.

Naturally, effortlessly, he pressed his whole length inside you, groaning shakily as he bottomed out. Bringing your thighs around his hips, he moaned in satisfaction as he felt your ankles lock around him. You saw stars, feeling him move deeply, kissing your cervix, finally feeling warm again.

"Please don't stop-- you feel incredible-- I can feel you in my belly...I...I..."

You felt a sudden dampness at your neck where Kento's face was pressed, his thrusts becoming more insistent, barely pulling out of you as he rutted you against the bed. With a pang, you realised he was crying.

"Of all the dangers...of all the Curses we...haah...we face--" Kento's voice broke as he moaned against your ear, gripping your thighs tighter around him, "...and I nearly lose you to the fucking cold. You were afraid, but I was too. I thought I'd find you...find you dead... from such a thoughtless mistake."

You held him close, whispering love into his ear, feeling pleasure build and build deep within you again as he gasped and moaned, only ever partially pulling out, hitting your most sensitive spot again, and again.

"Gods, you feel so good. So warm, I...I'm not going to last...please darling..." His clever fingers reached down to draw circles on your clit again, and his thrusts became sloppy as you spasmed and fluttered around his cock, head thrown back in ecstasy as you called his name in bliss.

Kento came hard, white lights in his eyes as he pulsed deep inside you, filling you with his warm seed. Trembling, and laying butterfly kisses across your cheeks and nose, he collapsed to the side, pulling you with him, chest to chest again.

You both lay, warm to the core, in peaceful silence. The snow continued to fall outside, and the wind whistled over the windows, and you felt Kento's chest rise and fall against your own.

"I'm so sorry, Kento. I tried so hard to get home." Kento shushed you gently, pressing his lips to your forehead in a tender kiss.

"It wasn't your fault. It was all bad luck and circumstance. First thing in the morning, we'll look into the most indestructible phones on the market."

You giggled into the pillow, and succumbed to sleep together, Kento still nestled inside you, keeping you warm.

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Kento padded around the kitchen the next morning, in only grey joggers and his Danish grandfather's old woolen cardigan. You were tucked up in blankets on the sofa, enjoying your second round of tea and toast, while Kento's phone lit up with messages of concern for you, from students and staff at Jujutsu High. He responded to them all patiently, reassuring everyone that you were now safe and warm and working your way through a small bakery.

Two exquisite bunches of flowers were delivered to Kento's door in quick succession- one from Ijichi and one from Nitta. After collecting Kento from his mission, neither had attended to collect you as both had believed the other to be on duty for you. Kento snorted derisively, considering murder as an option.

He sent thanks to Gojo, whose exceptional six-eyes had found you when nobody else could. Kento tapped his phone thoughtfully against his lips as he draped your legs over his lap on the sofa. Perhaps he would get Gojo a Christmas present this year.

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This was my first smut for quite some time. I hope you enjoyed a read, HMU sometime ✌️💓

[kimbappykidding]

Imagine playing hard to get with Yeonjun at the Hybe picnic

You and Yeonjun had been unofficially seeing one another for a while and things were going well until he asked you out...over text. You got he was a busy man but couldn't he atleast pick up the phone to ask you to be his girlfriend? It wasn't the sort of thing you just did over text. That took the least amount of effort possible and made you think Yeonjun didn't really care. So you didn't respond to the text hoping Yeonjun would realise why you were upset and call you or that he'd wonder why you'd gone all quiet on him. He didn't and a week passed without him checking what had happened or following through in any way. You wondered if he just thought you'd rejected him and so had closed off so you asked Soobin but he said Yeonjun was fine. As loud and happy as ever and that hurt. So any sympathy you had for him vanished and just in time too because you had the Hybe picnic. A few weeks ago you'd been excited about this! A chance to hang out with all the groups you hardly ever spoke to in one place...it'd be amazing. However, with recent events, it turned from a fun social event to one of revenge.   So when you arrived with your group and saw TxT you waved to them but made sure not to make eye contact with Yeonjun. You didn't register his presence and ignored how handsome he looked. You couldn't help but smile when TxT made their chaotic entrance but told yourself you were laughing because of the other guys, not him. One of the first games you played was a race. You'd get a mission and then have to select another person to help you do the mission. Yeonjun went first and he picked you for his mission. You acted like you didn't really know him and stood a safe distance apart only politely answering his questions. The challenge was to get someone who could do the crab and walk 3 meters. Yeonjun knew you'd always been flexible and loved gymnastics so was confident you'd smash this. When the host asked him why he picked you, Yeonjun said it was because you were the main dancer so he hoped you'd be flexible. He smiled at you when he said it and you smiled back but didn't meet his eye. You did the challenge and then quickly returned to your seat, giving Yeonjun nothing more than you needed to.

You went in the next round for your team and the challenge you had was to get someone to say an English tongue twister. You knew Yeonjun was famously good at pronouncing English words (RIP Beomgyu) but you couldn't pick him...then you remembered Seventeen had an American member. You raced to the table and just told them "English speaker" and they all pointed to Joshua. You gestured for him to come and the boy jumped up, running with you. You got there second and while stood in line waiting, you noticed this boy was cute. His eyes were kinda similar to Yeonjun's but his nose and lips were different. "Sorry I don't think we've been introduced before I yanked you away" you said "I'm Y/n". The man nodded chuckling slightly "nice to meet you Y/n I'm Joshua". "Nice to meet you too...so are you American or...". He nodded "yeah I'm American but came here to be an idol. I'm from LA". "Yes!" you cried happily and Joshua laughed. "That's really cool you're from LA, did you see a lot of famous people?". Joshua laughed and the two of you started chatting until the host noticed and shushed you both. Meanwhile, Yeonjun saw the whole thing and he wasn't happy. He could tell from your body language that you found Joshua attractive on some level and didn't like how well the conversation was flowing between the two of you. When you both got told off for talking you laughed together and shot each other looks like it was some big inside joke. You looked good together and Yeonjun couldn't help but glare. When you hadn't responded to his message he thought this was some sort of joke or that you were too busy. However now, watching you he began to reconsider that. The first duo succeeded and then it was your turn. The challenge was a tongue twister and Yeonjun sighed "well he's American so this will be easy". Yeonjun was praying Joshua would fail but how would he mess up his home language? Of course, Joshua said the whole thing perfectly and you cheered "wow that sounded so good!" making Joshua blush. You walked away together still chatting and took the long way around so Joshua could finish what he was saying. You then got back to your tables (which of course were next to each other) and said goodbye. Yeonjun felt better knowing you were away from one another but not for long. It was dinner time and everyone raced to get into line. Yeonjun was determined to get in between you and Joshua and was relieved to see you were 2 ahead of him and Joshua 1 behind him. So Yeonjun thought it would be safe until the people in between got the answers right leaving you, Yeonjun and Joshua all next to one. Yeonjun was pleased he was in the middle but now felt the pressure to keep getting answers wrong so as to keep separating you. He knew it was childish but he couldn't help it. He had no idea why you were acting like this but he wouldn't take it lying down. Finally on your 3rd time you were asked a question and Yeonjun knew you wouldn't know the answer. It was about Geography and Yeonjun knew that wasn't a strong point of yours. He searched his brain for the answer so he could whisper it to you but he didn't know it...but guess who did. Joshua whispered the answer and you heard it repeating it. The host paused "did you know that?". You nodded "totally, I love capital cities". The man didn't seem convinced and let you take the food. Yeonjun didn't miss how you shot Joshua a smile. Yeonjun was too nervous to eat properly and spent most of his time with his eyes glued to your table. Everything was going well until they brought the prizes out for people who won challenges. Yeonjun accepted his and watched as you headed to Joshua to split it with him. Yeonjun watched as Joshua tried to give you the money back but you wouldn't dream of it. In the end, Joshua agreed to take it but only if you took his ice cream. It was a cute exchange and Yeonjun could see Joshua's members smiling. Yeonjun wasn't the only one noticing the chemistry there.   After dinner, it was the dance challenge which comforted Yeonjun. He knew he was a good dancer and went all out hoping to show you why he was better than Joshua. Yeonjun hoped you were watching him but when he looked back you and Joshua were hiding near one another. He saw Joshua ask you what the move was and you helped him both laughing. The hosts soon caught on that you two were hiding at the back and asked Joshua to come forwards and dance. You got eliminated together and sat at the back. Yeonjun tried ignoring it but when he saw Joshua whisper something in your ear he lost it. He completely messed up the routine and got eliminated. You didn't even seem to notice too busy chatting to Joshua and Yeonjun took a seat near Beomgyu annoyed. "You okay?" Beomgyu asked and he nodded "I'm fine...". The day ended and Yeonjun called out to you. You were with your members but paused when you saw him. You said goodbye and made your way over to him. "So what are you into Joshua now?" Yeonjun asked. You shrugged "why do you care?". "Seriosuly?" Yeonjun asked "you're just going to pretend like there's nothing between us?". "Well officially there is nothing" you said "technically I can flirt with however many guys I want because we're not together!". Yeonjun heard the way you said that and paused. "But that's not my fault I...I asked you out". You sighed "yes but how did you do that Yeonjun? After 4 months of spending time together, hanging out, hooking up, talking all the time...you ask me by text?" you asked "that's cold Yeonjun". Yeonjun froze because he honestly hadn't thought of it like that. The two of you had been talking and you'd said something so hilarious he'd been laughing about it all day. He knew how he felt about you and was tired so it just came out. He asked if you wanted to make this official and went to bed hoping for an answer the next morning. He honestly hadn't considered that there were some things you should say in person and he agreed this probably should've been one. "Shit Y/n I'm so sorry!" he said and you looked at him with tears in your eyes "you mean a lot to me Yeonjun, am I really only worth a text?". "No of course not!" Yeonjun said touching your arm and you pulled away. "Y/n please let me explain of course you deserve better!" Yeonjun said. You went to talk when a figure appeared. "Hey is everything okay here?" Joshua asked looking at you crying. You thought it was really sweet that Joshua would come and check but Yeonjun didn't. He stepped forward, his patience for Joshua evaporating more and more by the second. "We're fine" he said through gritted teeth and Joshua smiled at him "that's great but I'd like to hear it from her". Yeonjun went to argue when you stepped between them "don't worry Joshua we're fine just bickering". "Then why are you crying?" he asked and you sighed "because we're kind of together and it hurts when the person closest to you hurts you...but don't worry Yeonjun isn't dangerous, we just need to discuss this. Thank you for checking and for being so great today". Joshua nodded "okay no problem, we're not leaving for a bit so call me if you need me". You nodded telling Joshua you would before turning back to Yeonjun "you have some explaining to do". Yeonjun earnestly explained everything, how he never thought it through, how he just wanted you to be with him and how sorry he was. "I'd been wanting to ask you for ages because I really like you Y/n. I'd never do anything to hurt you and please let me make it up to you...I swear I won't do something like this again". You paused looking at him again "but how do you know that?". He shook his head "because I will never forget how today felt. I was so panicked thinking I'd lost you and I will never be stupid enough to make that mistake twice. I never want to be without you" he said touching your arm and this time you didn't step back. "I believe you and I forgive you" you said. Yeonjun's face lit up into a smile and he hugged you letting out a huge sigh of relief "I'm so happy, thank you Y/n!". "Just don't do it again" you said relaxing into his hug "I thought I'd lost you too". Yeonjun shook his head holding you close "as long as you want me I'll be here and so on that note. Y/n, will you please be my girlfriend? These past few months with you have meant so much to me and I want you to be mine". You smiled "I will" and Yeonjun picked you up swinging you around before setting you down. "You're my girlfriend" he said looking at you before laughing "I'm never going to get used to saying that". "Then stop talking for a second" and you said and Yeonjun smiled reading your mind "good idea" and he kissed you. Yeonjun finally kissed his girlfriend.