#fluff? with hints of pg13 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tocrackerboxpalace · 3 years

Text

March, 1964

Summary: John and Paul (but mostly John) find studying their lines for A Hard Day's Night a drag. John finds other (PG?) ways to pass the time.

The air was still inside the cozy dressing room. A faint scent of cigarette smoke clung to the thick atmosphere, but not enough to ring unpleasant. John gazed at the cigarette as it dangled loosely from his fingers, and deciding against taking another drag, put it out in the ashtray beside him. He tugged at the neck of his black sweater—despite the chill of the winter air persisting outside the window, the room was quite warm. Without much thought, John lazily traced a finger along the window sill, feeling chills spread up his arm at the temperature shock.

It really looked more like an upscale office than a dressing room. Sure, there were four distinct mirrors and hairdresser chairs, as well as a rod near the doorway with an array of suits, sweaters, and trousers for the boys to rotate in and out of. But the room itself was decorated quite elegantly. A soft glow from the floor lamp mingled with the diminishing brightness of outside to coat the room in a honey-like aura. Deep red curtains framed the enormous window, grazing the velvety paisley-patterned rug that covered most area of the room. The rest of the floor was a deep hardwood, without the slightest trace of dust—an unfamiliar concept, John mused. This was much nicer than what they were used to. Immediately upon entering, he had thrown himself onto a long, floral-patterned couch by the window. Paul knew he fancied observing nature while they studied.

Paul was seated a few feet away from him, his long legs draped over the armrest as he slouched sideways over the enormous armchair. His body was facing John’s, and he could see his eyebrows knitting together in concentration as he studied his script. His lips moved wordlessly, repeating his lines to himself without speaking at all. He reached up mindlessly and tousled his hair, and John watched as the dark locks fell directly back into place. They had been sitting like this for over an hour now, and John was beginning to feel restless. He had turned his gaze to his friend once he figured he could not possibly watch the nothing going on outside the window for a second longer. Going over his script one more time was always an option, but the thought simply did not interest him. Despite being constantly begged not to do so, John figured he could improvise some lines if they fell blank on his mind. He had a quick wit, and knew that some of his lines would come off better (read: more authentic) than the portrait that the writers had painted of him. He didn’t know how Paul could concentrate for so long, especially seeing as the man had relatively few lines in the upcoming scene.

Almost as if hearing his name appear in John’s thoughts, Paul’s eyes jumped up to meet John’s. He swung his legs over the arm of the chair until he was sitting in an upright (albeit, poorly postured) position and set his script down on the quaint table between them. John pulled the ashtray a bit closer to himself, fearing the disaster that would ensue if he and Paul accidentally burned down the dressing room. They had had their fair share of slightly arsonist run-ins in their youth, and John was too tired to deal with the legal ramifications of an incident like that again.

Paul sighed loudly, bringing John back to present. He hoped this was a sign of his friend’s boredom and restlessness, so he could stop pretending like he was studying his own script. The younger man leaned forward and put his head in his hands, letting out a strained groan as he rubbed his eyes.

“I don’t think I can take any more of this studying, mate,” Paul muttered. “I close my eyes and all I see is ‘No, actually, we’re just good friends’. Why do I have to say that, like, a dozen times? It’s only hardly clever.”

“Quite the realistic portrait, then,” John replied lazily, a smile twitching at the corner of his lips when Paul shot him an irritated glance. “I’m bored. Let’s do something.”

Paul checked his wristwatch. “When do you think they’ll be back? I thought Ringo was just going to wander about the town. How long could that filming possibly take? It’s not even scripted. Plus, he’s got that massive hangover. I figured they’d be back around by now.”

John shrugged. George had gone along with Ringo to provide some moral support for the dreaded scene (every scene was dreaded for Ringo today, as Paul was right—he was sporting a massive hangover), leaving Paul and John behind to study for their next appearance. For Paul, it was out of necessity; the poor lad struggled with keeping up with his lines, a fact that made him irritated and anxious. Paul typically wasn’t poor at things. For John, the desertion was more punishment for disappearing on set the day before to explore the city a bit. He didn’t mind, though. It could be worse; Paul could have left him as well. At least he had some company.

“We could go to the pub we passed yesterday,” John observed. “I could use a quick drink. Or two.”

Paul frowned, but John could see him shake his head in slight amusement at his friend’s remarks. “No, we won’t be doing that. Could you imagine how much trouble you’d be in with Brian if you disappeared again? To drink, no less? Sometimes I don’t know what goes on in your daft mind.”

John chuckled at that. He quite enjoyed teasing his friend, pushing forth this Teddy-boy persona that he sported when they first met seven years prior. Though he had no intention of actually going to get drunk in the middle of a work day, he knew that the boy wouldn’t tell the difference. He was aware that his behavior gave Paul a bit of a superiority complex, the feeling of being “the good one”, and the thought of that amused him. The public had yet to see how mischievous Paul McCartney actually was, his puppy dog eyes betraying him at every turn.

Of course, John was one of the few people that saw past Paul’s angelic front. The times they’d shared together had proved that even Brian and George Martin were fooled, as John often fell victim to blame for things that Paul had done. He didn’t quite mind the dynamic, though. He was hardly in real trouble, and it felt nice to have a part of Paul that the others didn’t. He was so hard to read at first, so hard to get close to. The intimacy was welcome to John, in a comforting, familial way.

“What shall we do then?” John mused. He huffed as he struggled to pull himself into an upright position, his joints popping at the sudden movement after being a puddle of nothing for so long. “Go for a smoke? Go for a stroll? Go fetch a bird?” He winked at the last suggestion as heat rose into Paul’s cheeks. Last night, John had also unintentionally taken the blame for a girl that Paul had snuck into the dressing room. Paul had been mortified and profusely thanked him, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t have a little fun with the knowledge.

“Actually,” Paul replied, rubbing his temples, “I’m quite exhausted. Might have a go at a nap.”

“Paul,” John whined, feigned desperation in his voice, “You can’t. I’m so bored. If you leave, I’ll have nothing.”

“Oh, all right,” the boy sighed. “Then you think of something to do. My mind is strained. And,” he jumped, as John opened his mouth to say something, “we’re not going out. I feel like I’m responsible for you right now. Don’t make me put you in time out.” Paul slouched back as the chair engulfed his figure and closed his eyes, humming softly to himself as he let fatigue overtake him.

John’s stomach flipped Paul’s words, though he almost cocked an eyebrow at the absurdity of the feeling. He quickly shook it off, feeling sure it was nothing more than the delight of knowing he could pester Paul endlessly, now that he was aware how Paul felt of the situation. If he was John’s babysitter, then John would act… well, like a child.

John stretched his legs just far enough as to where he could kick the other man’s foot. Paul half-lidded eyes looked up at him with a slightly annoyed expression, but he was met only with the amusement that twinkled in John’s. This seemed to irritate him further, not feeling at all in the mood for physical banter. So John kicked him again.

Paul’s eyes flew open. “Christ, lad, would you knock it off? I’m not in the mood. If you won’t let me leave, at least let me rest here.”

“But I’m bored,” John whined again. “I want to do something.”

“Look over your script,” Paul muttered as he turned his back on him, shifting to curl up into the armchair. “I don’t want to have to deal with you going on about fish and finger pies again next take. I have enough to worry about with my own lines.”

“You don’t own me, Paul,” John shot back. “You’re not in charge.”

“I bloody might as well be,” came the muffled voice that now felt far away.

John fell back on the couch himself, defeated. He gazed out the window again, eyes following an adorable little bird that hopped from tree limb to tree limb. He felt for that bird, or rather, he felt the need to be that bird, happily hopping on without a care in the world. It was so simple and innocent. He wanted to reach his hand through the glass and stroke the little bird, with its enchantingly dark feathers. To John, it looked like midnight, when the sky was still and the world was quiet and there was nothing but yourself and the atmosphere, high above you. Was it a blackbird? A crow, maybe? Its tiny black eyes were empty, devoid of emotion, but not threatening or eerie. Just… there. Being. Existing. It lived only to live, not to please, or love, or conquer. Oh, to be the little bird.

John continued to marvel at it for a few more moments before it fluttered out of sight. He was left with nothing again, his mind grasping at something else to attend to. The script fell out of his hands onto the floor with a thick thud, making Paul twitch in his barely-there state of consciousness.

Paul! A wonderful thing to capture his attention. John nudged his foot against the chair, hoping to shift it just slightly. When that didn’t work, he pushed a bit harder, sending a croaking sound through the room as the chair leg slipped off the rug and onto the hardwood.

“Piss off, Lennon,” Paul growled, his voice thick with the beginnings of sleep. But John couldn’t let him drift asleep. He would be so dreadfully bored.

John got to his knees on the couch, facing Paul’s chair. He gently pushed the stand with the ashtray and Paul’s script out of the way, and leaned forward, interlacing his fingers on the arm of the couch and resting his chin atop them. He could see Paul’s side rising and falling rhythmically, the stiff fabric of his dress shirt crinkling with every inhale. He hadn’t changed out from earlier, and was still wearing the pressed white button down, black tie, and black trousers. The only thing he had removed was his suit jacket, which lay draped across the back of the chair. John assumed Paul had noticed the warm thickness of the air in the room as well.

Paul’s side stared back at him, open and inviting. He knew exactly what to do, to piss Paul off to the perfect degree while also keeping up the good spirits. He removed a hand from under his chin and stretched ever so slightly before jamming two fingers—hard—into Paul’s soft side.

Paul yelped in surprise and jerked awake and alert, trying to comprehend what had just happened. John watched him smugly as his brow furrowed in confusion, then annoyance. “For fuck’s sake, John, is it so hard to keep your hands to yourself? You’re a child.”

John said nothing, just watched in anticipation as Paul turned away again, muttering something under his breath. He was cranky now, and John wanted to push his limits. He had nothing better to do, anyway. He tentatively reached back over and, in one swift movement, pinched Paul’s side again and retreated into the far side of the couch.

Paul swung blindly, nearly missing contact with John’s extended forearm as he jumped back. John suppressed a giddy grin, knowing that he had succeeded in his mission. Paul was now wide awake and visibly frustrated, taking a moment to rub his tender side while muttering a string of unflattering curses.

“You wanker,” he shot at John, his eyes burning as he massaged his sore spot. Paul knew that John knew that’s where his weak spot was, his ticklish spot. He was only lucky that John had poked and pinched instead of lightly grazing and prodding. They shared a look, both of them well aware of that fact. John couldn’t help but cock a knowing eyebrow at him, as if to say, I could if I wanted to.

Suddenly, Paul’s eyes darkened. John’s breath caught in his throat as he watched a mischievous glint overtake Paul’s gaze. He watched Paul’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, running his tongue between his lips in anticipation. John wasn’t sure what the transformation was, but it couldn’t be good. He felt in a moment that he had lost control of the situation. He opened his mouth to speak, willing himself to come up with something spectacularly witty, until—

Paul had lurched on top of him in a matter of seconds, digging his fingers into John’s sides. John initially gasped as ticklish tremors ran through his body, the sounds of pure, unfiltered laughter soon filling the air. John twisted under Paul’s iron grip as tears began to spring to his eyes from the hysteria, gasping for breath and unable to keep himself from breaking into a fit of giggles every few seconds. He weakly attempted to reach up and grasp at Paul’s weak spots, trying to give himself the edge again, but Paul caught his wrist with one hand, pinning the other down with his knee. “Uh uh uh,” he chastised, pushing John’s wrist into the couch and underneath his other knee. He was straddling him on the couch, his knees trapping John’s hands at his sides while Paul’s hands were free to mercilessly attack John’s sides, stomach, and neck.

“P-please,” he wheezed, as Paul chuckled lightheartedly above him. “Please stop, I- I can’t breathe—”

“You asked for this,” Paul retorted, not ceasing the torturous movements. His tone was light and amused, sounding as though he found himself greatly enamored with the visual of John writhing helplessly beneath him. “Next time, keep your bloody hands to yourself.”

“I will, I will,” John gasped, a tear rolling down his cheek. Slowly, Paul ceased his assault, and rocked back on his heels, letting John’s hands free. He watched as the man caught his breath beneath him, reaching up to wipe away a tear that had fallen in the hysteria. “That was not funny,” John asserted in a mock-serious tone, secretly hoping that Paul would go at it again.

The thought pulled a frown to his face as he contemplated what had just popped into his head. He was “secretly hoping Paul would do that again”? Why? Why did he feel the need to keep it a secret? Why had Paul’s devilish fingers made John’s skin feel so… electric, and tingly? And most importantly, why was he now acutely aware that the man was sitting on John’s lap?

Paul let out an airy laugh and raised himself up off the sofa. John breathed a sigh of relief, concerned over the thoughts that spilled into his head. What the fuck was going on? This was Paul. He enjoyed spending time with him, teasing him, messing with him, pissing him off and making him laugh. Paul, his bandmate. His best friend. His suddenly strangely entrancing best—

Shut up, John begged his mind. He didn’t want to follow himself down a rabbit hole of that sort.

Paul was making his way back to the armchair. He plopped into it, looking as though he was the one who had just been tickled to death. He looked at John with a grin of satisfaction and power, and John knew that the man was about to go for a nap again knowing that John wouldn’t mess with him in that way again.

He liked to prove Paul wrong.

As soon as Paul’s eyes fluttered closed once more, and his breathing became steadier and deeper, John formulated another plan. One that, this time, he would surely be in control of. He watched Paul’s chest rise and fall for a few minutes, waiting for his eyelashes to stop twitching, willing the man to fall just enough asleep to where he would be slightly delirious upon a quick awakening. That way, he couldn’t catch John with surprise force as he executed the first step of his plan.

John waited the tiniest bit longer, until he was sure that his friend wasn’t just pretending, and went for it. In a quick movement, John jumped up and pulled at Paul’s wrists, thrusting him onto the floor forcefully but not painfully. The man blinked wildly as John held both his wrists over his head with one hand and began to aggressively tickle Paul’s exposed armpits. He jerked away from John’s touch, still in a faint haze about what was happening, before he began to come to his senses and bite back a cry of laughter. John knew that Paul was far more ticklish than he, and that the quick prodding and nudging wouldn’t drive him nearly as crazy as light, barely-there touches.

He began to cry out on the floor beside John, who was lying on his side, holding Paul’s hands with one arm and attacking him with the other. “Jesus, John, you bastard,” he wheezed, trying to force himself up but unable to do so. His wrists strained against John’s grip.

This struggle continued for a few more minutes, before John’s own stomach hurt from laughing so much. He released his friend and collapsed on the rug beside him, both of their laughter dying out softly as they caught their breath. A silence of about five minutes ensued, neither speaking but both acknowledging the comforting warmth of their shoulders pressed against one other.

After a long recovery, Paul tentatively lifted a leg and crossed it over, placing it in between John’s. Shooting his friend an inquisitive glance—not that this intertwining or personal touch was a strange posture for them, as they had had countless sleepovers in John’s far-too-tiny bed in his Mimi’s home growing up—John nudged Paul’s foot with his own to encourage him to speak what was on his mind.

“Thank you,” Paul said, the tint of laughter still coloring his voice.

“For what?” John replied noncommittedly. He kept his eyes on the ceiling, which was a rather putrid tile, almost like the ceilings in grade school—something that was jarring against the rather royal layout of the rest of the room. He trained his gaze on a particular patch of water damage shaped a bit like the bird he had watched earlier, through the window.

“I know you could have done worse in that little fight,” Paul mused. “I think I would have peed me self. Or died. Whichever came first.”

John hummed in response, now aware that the little leg movement was almost a thank you in and of itself. That simple search for physical contact, a gesture of appreciation, made John’s heart swell. He liked feeling appreciated. It was almost as if John was a girl, and Paul had reached down to interlace their fingers together and offer a quick squeeze, but John wasn’t a girl and instead Paul had thoughtlessly interlaced their legs. It was a nice feeling, one that spread warmth across John’s chest. As much as he wore Paul down, he was so thankful for him. It was a genuine admiration and appreciation (that he hoped was mutual), an experience that was rather foreign to him throughout life so far. He supposed much of that was brought on by himself—if he hadn’t been such a naughty child in school, if he’d been a bit better behaved for his parents, if he hadn’t been such a dick to the girlfriends he’d had. But with Paul, things were different. There were no expectations of being a son, a pupil, a lover. They could just be. Just like the bird.

John smiled to himself at the thought.

#the beatles #beatles fanfiction #john lennon #paul mccartney #george harrison (mentioned)#ringo starr (mentioned)#fluff? with hints of pg13 #a hard day's night #john and paul

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angelfic · 2 years

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— SECRETS AND SKATEPARKS.

pairing: tasm!peter parker x reader

summary: you have a sneaking suspicion about your best friend and will apparently go to any lengths to prove yourself right.

warnings: mentions of violence/bruises, kissing, basically just a bunch of pg13 fluff, friends to lovers au.

author’s note: very much enjoying the andrew garfield spiderman love recently (don’t know where you all were 9 years ago but that’s not my business) so here’s a fic for my favourite spidey! i don’t think i’ve written for marvel in over a year and my writing is kinda rusty, but enjoy nonetheless!! ♡

“I wonder what Spider-Man looks like,” you absentmindedly mumble, scribbling down the answer to the Calculus question you were working on.

This piques your best friend Peter’s interest and his gaze quickly shoots from his own homework to you. “What, why? Wh-why does that, uh, matter?”

“No, I’m just saying, y’know?” You shrug, not thinking anything of it until you catch his expression. His head is tilted in confusion and he resembles a lost puppy with curiosity painted plain as day on his face.

God, why does your best friend have to be so cute. Okay, maybe a slightly inappropriate thought to be having, but it’s not like you’re hurting anyone! Other than yourself, that is, by not having your feelings returned. Collateral damage.

“He’s, like, super strong right?” you ask, turning back to your homework. Mostly to avoid looking at Peter, but also because you aren’t quite as good at calculus as him. He hums in answer, prompting you to continue. “Which means he’s probably super ripped. And if he’s super ripped, he’s gotta be like…”

You trail off, thinking he gets where you’re going. But when you look at him again, his brows are furrowed and you can’t help chuckling. “Spider-Man is probably really hot.”

Peter chokes on air.

“That’s not even-“ He cuts himself off, shaking his head which causes his hair to fall into his eyes, bringing more attention to the blush creeping it’s way onto his face. “I’ve always thought he was too… lanky.”

“Pfft!” You look at him like he’s gone crazy. “He’s not lanky. He’s tall. Tall guys are hot. He’s clearly got muscle. Probably was a popular jock or something in high school.”

“Yeah,” he says through a grin. He goes back to his homework and smiles like he’s sharing a private joke with himself, most likely at your mindless ramblings about Spider-Man. “That sounds about right.”

“And have you seen his ass?”

Peter chokes again.

“You good, Pete?” you inquire, raising an eyebrow at how awkward he is at the mention of Spider-Man’s ass. Just another aspect of his personality that you find irritatingly endearing.

“Just peachy,” he replies, through a strained voice.

You try, you really do, to keep in your laughter at his word choice. Unfortunately, you’ve never been good at that and as a result, you burst into a fit of giggles. Peter realises why you’re uncontrollably laughing soon enough and he groans, yet is unable to stop the corners of his mouth lifting. “You’re a child.”

“I can’t believe you said that. Of all phrases,” you say breathlessly, wiping a tear and finally calming down. This lasts a full five seconds and you don’t stop laughing again until you hear the click of a camera going off. “Hey!”

Peter had a habit of randomly taking photos of you, sometimes with him but mostly candid ones where you weren’t aware. A lot of the time he would print them out and stick them onto his collage inside his wardrobe, much to your protests.

“Delete that, I probably look hideous,” you whine, getting up to grab the device out of his hands as he looks at the picture he took, grinning. “Let me see!”

“Nope.” He pulls the camera out of your reach last minute, making you fall onto the bed with an indignant huff. “And you’ve never looked hideous a day in your life,” he mumbles under his breath, a hint of a scowl playing at his lips.

Pretending not to hear this, at the risk of him seeing your burning hot face, you go back to your homework. Curse Peter Parker and his stupid offhand comments that he doesn’t even know have an effect on you.

Somewhere in the eventual comfortable silence of your bedroom, Peter’s phone goes off and he shoots to his feet, collecting all his things into his backpack.

“Forgot I need to, uh, help Aunt May with some stuff,” he explains, already rushing out of the door, offering you an apologetic smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, okay see you-“ The door slams shut. “Later. I guess.”

And with that he’s gone, leaving your stupid heart still fluttering.

You see him the next day in school, just before second period. He missed first, as per usual. He never used to be late to class, but recently you’ve been catching him in the school hallways rather than outside your window on the fire escape so you can walk to school together.

“Parker!” you yell to get his attention as you make your way to his locker. He looks up, grins and gives you a little wave. There goes that heart again.

Just as you reach him, some girl bumps into you as she rushes to get to class, causing you to stumble and fall on Peter.

Immediately, Peter catches you by the waist, where you would otherwise have fallen face first. His hold on you is strong and steady, nothing like his old, clumsy self. That being said, your hand grips his upper arm and you gulp at the hard muscle beneath his jacket.

Woah, you think to yourself. When has he even had time to work out?

While you aren’t completely surprised since you’ve caught glimpses of his arms and peeks of his stomach as he’s taken his hoodies and jackets off in the last couple weeks, you didn’t think he was this jacked.

“Uh, fast reflexes there, Parker,” you nervously chuckle, still in the same position.

Your words seem to break him out of a trance and he clears his throat, gaze flickering down to your lips for a nanosecond and you almost miss it. You don’t, of course, since your face is mere inches away from his and you’re about to pass out from the smell of his intoxicating shampoo.

“You okay?” he asks with wide eyes, pulling you back up and you use everything within you not to complain about the loss of contact.

“Yeah, I’m f-“ you cut yourself off, properly taking in his face this time. A bruise is forming under eye his, directly on his cheekbone, and you gasp, tentatively reaching a hand out to trace it. Peter furrows his brows in confusion until you speak up, but your voice doesn’t raise above a whisper. “Peter, what happened…?”

“This little thing?” He looks away, pulling his hood up higher over his face, giving you a sheepish smile. Probably as an attempt to calm you down. It doesn’t work. “It’s nothing, really. I just… had a skating accident.”

“You didn’t have it last night!” you insist, struggling to see how and when it could have happened. “You also didn’t have your skateboard last night when you left, and you couldn’t have done it this morning because it’s already starting to bruise.”

Peter stares at you like a deer caught in headlights. “Since when did you become a detective?”

“That’s not the point! Did someone do this to you or something?” you demand, crossing your arms. “Because if they did, I’m going to seriously kick some ass!”

You can already imagine the steam coming out of your own ears, but when Peter starts to hide a smile behind his hand, you become furious.

“Is something funny about this?” you seethe, narrowing your eyes and taking a step closer in an attempt to intimidate an answer out of him. His smile grows.

“You’re just cute when you’re trying to be scary,” he says, grin on full display now. “Especially when you’re like, this tall.”

He looks at the tiny space between his fingers, showing you too.

“I can’t help it if you’re a tree,” you mumble angrily, practically looking up at him.

“Wasn’t it you who said tall guys are hot?” Peter rubs a hand across his jaw, pretending to be in deep thought. “Are you saying I’m hot?”

“Oh, shut up, you know you’ve got that hot skater boy thing going on. Don’t act like you don’t see those girls at the skate park ogling you! They don’t even skate!” you scoff, probably a little more annoyed than you should be at the idea of girls looking at your best friend. To your surprise, Peter looks like he’s just received brand new information.

“Those girls look at me?” he asks slowly, pointing a finger at himself. Then, as if he’s just taken in your words, he blinks. “You really think I’m hot?”

Spluttering, you refuse to answer the question, imagining the million ways that could go wrong. “Don’t change the subject, Parker! Now tell me h-“

“Shouldn’t you two be in class right now?” You’re interrupted by one of your teachers, looking at you expectantly.

“Y-yeah, sorry ma’am,” Peter quickly apologises, seeing his way out. You almost curse aloud when you remember your second period isn’t with him.

“This isn’t over,” you hiss, not looking back at his reaction before rushing to class. Unfortunately you can’t afford to have a detention on your record this early in the year.

You spend the whole school day without seeing Peter - big shocker - and when you get home you don’t bother inviting him round to study since he’s probably just going to be busy anyway.

Sighing, you throw your bag onto your bed and sink down into your desk chair to look at the news for a few minutes before inevitably getting lost in a Netflix binge marathon. The first thing that pops up is obviously the new vigilante and friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man, a clip of last night that was recorded by some passerby on the street.

Captivated by the way he swings around effortlessly, you marvel at him holding his own against eight grown men. That’s not the only thing you marvel at, remembering your conversation with Peter yesterday and laughing to yourself.

The footage is shaky, but shows clear as day every web shot by Spider-Man and the one hit he receives. That’s gotta hurt, you think, just as one of the guys swings a metal bar into the vigilante’s face, right under his eye.

That’s definitely going to bruise, you shudder, before switching it off and pulling up Netflix.

You’ll probably text Peter in an hour or so to check on him and make sure he’s putting ice on his own bruise.

Wait. His bruise… that’s in the same spot as where Spider-Man got hit last night…

No, you scoff. That’s just a coincidence. You’re just being fanciful because there’s no way your best friend is Spider-Man.

He would tell you, right?

Just like he told you where he got that bruise, you realise, swallowing harshly. You cant believe you’re even considering this, but he has been weirdly secretive. And it’s been around the time Spider-Man first started to show up. That explains the muscles and the weirdly fast reflexes and how he isn’t as clumsy as he used to be and how he doesn’t wear his glasses anymore.

“Contact lenses, my ass,” you mutter to yourself.

You look at one of the pictures you have of Peter pinned to the cork board above your desk. You had taken it recently with his camera, insisting that he had too many of you and you wanted some of your own. Studying the way he covers his face and his stance, you’re hit with the startling realisation that he has the same build as Spider-Man. The same height, the same lean body…

Oh, you’re going to kill Peter Parker.

An idea hits you with all the weight of a freight train and you abandon your laptop and Netflix plans to head to the skate park. Once you arrive, you head to the top of the ramp, thankful there’s no one there right now.

Whipping out your phone, you drop a quick text to Peter.

emergency @ skate park. get here quick.

You wait a couple minutes, looking down at the bottom of the ramp to calculate how badly you’d be injured if your suspicions weren’t correct.

Your internal debate over whether or not this whole thing is worth breaking an arm over is interrupted by Peter running up to join you on the ramp with a terrified expression on his face.

He definitely wouldn’t have gotten here in time if he wasn’t Spider-Man.

“Oh my god, are you okay?!” he practically yells, grabbing hold of your shoulders to inspect you. You almost break and tell him that you’re fine and you just wanted to test your theory. Until you see the bruise on his face again.

Taking his hands off your shoulders, you take a small step back, wobbling on the ramp. His worried eyes only narrow in confusion slightly, probably still shook up by your text.

“Here goes nothing,” you say, stomach churning as you turn your back to the edge of the ramp and fall.

You catch sight of Peter’s face about to yell out for you, but he doesn’t waste a second before starting towards you.

If your breath wasn’t already caught in your throat from falling, it definitely would have been when the webs shoot from his wrist and latch onto you.

Despite expecting this, you gasp, breathing heavily. Shit, you think. You had not thought about the rest of this plan.

Pulling you up with ease, Peter pulls you by the webs attached to your shirt and into his arms. “What the hell did you do that for? Were you trying to break your neck? What if I couldn’t have caught you? God, I hate you for doing that to me, I literally thought my heart was about to st-“

“You caught me,” you say, voice muffled by the fact Peter is holding you tightly against him. That doesn’t stop you from rambling though. “You actually managed to catch me with- with your webs. Oh my God, I was right.”

Pulling you away, he holds you by the arms in front of him, his mouth set in a grave line. “You knew? That I’m… that I could…”

Shrugging, you laugh nervously. “I mean, I had a suspicion, but I didn’t know that you’re actually- holy shit. My best friend is actually Spider-Man.”

“No, no, no,” Peter puts his face in his hands, very clearly stressed. “This is bad. This is very, very bad.”

“Yes, it is,” you scowl, snapping out of your shock and remembering that he never told you. “You should be very scared for your life right now. Because trust me, Peter Parker, it’s a mystery as to why I haven’t killed you yet for not telling me you’re a freaking superhero!”

You smack his arm which probably does more harm to your hand than to him. He doesn’t even flinch.

“Do you realise,” he pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a deep breath. “Just how much danger you’ve put yourself in by knowing I’m Spider-Man?”

“Peter, you don’t even realise how stupid you sound right now,” you shake your head, laughing without a trace of humour in your voice. “You are quite literally putting your life at risk every. Single. Day. And I had no idea! I can’t even imagine what I would do if you d-“

“Me?” Peter chuckles, incredulous. He groans, tugging on his hair in frustration before waving his arms around trying to get the words out. “Y/N. I can knock over 12 tonnes with a barely forceful poke of my finger. People are trying to kill me every. Single. Day. And failing. If they find out that the girl I’ve been in love with ever since I can remember even exists and is without superpowers?”

Peter cuts himself off, turning his back to you and standing deathly still.

“What did you say?” Your voice is hoarse when you ask this, not quite believing your ears. “The girl you’ve been in love with?”

“Forget I said that,” he mutters, still not looking at you.

As if.

“What about me, huh?” you demand, stepping around him to make him face you. “The guy I’ve been in love with my whole life is getting beat up every night by thugs with metal pipes and there’s nothing I can do to stop-“

“Stop talking,” Peter’s eyes flash and he webs the front of your shirt again. This time he pulls you impossibly close to him and presses his lips against yours feverishly. You make a noise of surprise in the back of your throat before reaching up on your tip toes and relaxing into the kiss, your hand snaking up into his hair. Peter’s lips move perfectly in sync with yours and you don’t know if it’s been seconds, minutes or days when you pull away for breath.

Resting your forehead against his own, you can’t stop the smile spreading on your face, mirroring Peter’s. He’s the first to speak, brushing his nose against yours. “You love me.”

“Yep,” you confirm, hand still playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “So just be glad those girls weren’t here staring at you again. Otherwise I would probably have gathered the force to knock over a few high school girls with a very forceful poke of my finger.”

“Noted,” Peter nods in mock seriousness. “You should also be glad those guys that usually skate here to impress you, aren’t here today either. Otherwise I would probably web ‘em in the face.”

“Eh,” you shrug. “You were always a better skater than them anyway. Probably to do with your superhuman abilities and all.”

“Hey, I take offence!”

“Kidding, kidding,” you laugh, grabbing your bag off the floor and holding Peter’s hand, leading him off the ramp. He doesn’t even try to hide the way he looks at you anymore and it kinda, sort of makes your insides melt. “So… can you swing me across the city now?”

“Absolutely not.”

#peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker x reader #andrew garfield x reader #andrew garfield spiderman x reader #the amazing spider man #andrew garfield spiderman #spiderman #peter parker oneshot #peter parker imagine #peter parker x you #peter parker fanfiction #tasm peter x reader #tasm x reader #andrew garfield imagines #the amazing spiderman #the amazing spiderman x reader #the amazing spider man x reader

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kimnjss · 3 years

Text

petal | myg

⤑ series: cyberslut

⤑ pairing: jock(fuckboi)!yoongi x nerdy(virgin)!reader

⤑ genre: smut!! fluff… and hints of angst.

⤑ rating: pg13

⤑ word count: 4.2K // unedited.

⤑ warnings: cursing, slight dirty talk, fingering, finger sucking, unprotected sex, clothed sex... yoongi finally uses his big brain!!

⤑ A/N: hii! i’m literally not going to say anything elsed bc..... let me know what you think!! x

JUNE 13TH, 2021 | 09:28

He's never woken up this hard in his entire life. Sure of it. To be fair, he's never woken up like this before. An arm wrapped around your waist and face nuzzled in the crook of your neck. Ass pressed to the crotch, albeit, covered by the material of your shorts but the material was so flimsy it might as well not be there.

You're shifting in his arm a soft sigh leaving your lips and he's so in tune with you and your body that he's reacting almost instantly. Cock stiffening further as you push back against him.

Desperate to give his hands something to do, he takes to toying with the hem of his shirt that you slipped on before crawling in bed last night. As if he needed another thing to turn him on, you smelt like him and that drove him mad. In the most primal way it could possibly be put, he forever wanted to see you adorned in his attire.

Quickly, he's getting swept away in how domestic it waking up beside you, you in his clothes and fast asleep so peacefully next to him feels. He wanted every day to look like this and was not afraid to admit that. Yoongi has always been the 'all in' type of guy and that was exactly how he was feeling when it came to you. Fuck the obstacles and the games, if he could wake up feeling like this every morning he would.

He doesn't even realize the way his hands have crept underneath the fabric of your shirt, large hands grazing over the soft skin of your stomach. Slowly, he inches his way up your body until he's able to grip a handful of your breasts. Deep in his thoughts as he mindlessly kneads them, fingers rolling over your hardening nipples.

The soft moan that falls from your lips does very little to catch his attention. It's not until you're squirming against him, head hitting his bare chest does he snap out of it. Eyes widening as he moves to pull his hands away, but you're quickly covering them with yours – holding them in place. And you swear you feel him twitch against you.

“You're awake?” He mumbles, lip gliding over the skin of your back. Just from the tone, you're sure if you were to turn around you would catch sight of the blush of the cheeks. A face that seemed almost foreign when it came to Min Yoongi, but more frequent when it came to you.

With a nod, you're turning in his arms, chin hitting his chest. “Did you expect me to stay asleep?” He laughs at the dramatic roll of your eyes, hands sliding from your breasts to rest at the back of your neck to pull you into a kiss. It's slow and sweet, but it's not long before he's sliding his hand back underneath your shirt.

His words melt into your mouth and you're barely able to decipher what he's said, “I love that you're wearing my shirt,” The very shirt that he's very discreetly trying to peel off of your body. Arms circling around his waist, you're pulling back from his lips only to lay your head on his chest. The shift distracts his movements, arms wrapping around your shoulders to pull you closer.

“You insisted I wore it to bed,” A fact, but that didn't change the fact that you were wearing it. And you looked so good in it.

To avoid his cheeks darkening anymore or the butterflies intensifying in his chest, Yoongi decides to change the subject. “I have practice in an hour...” His own words seem to dawn on him, reminding him that he had to get up and get ready.

He's slow with the way he unwraps his arms from your body, reluctantly putting space between you. You're in the middle of making a mental list of things you can do to keep busy when he's speaking up again, sat up at the edge of the bed with his arms stretched over his head. “Come with me?”

Not even bothering to turn as he speaks, so you're forced to stare at the cute freckles scattered over his muscular back as you think over your answer. Not like you needed much time to think, it wasn't like you had a million things to do and the entire reason you came out here was to spend time with him.

Yoongi seems to quickly pick up on your obvious answer because he's no longer waiting for an answer. Mentally changing the question mark at the end of his words to a period, a requirement rather than a request as he searches through his suitcase for his gym clothes.

“Hurry up too, we can grab something to eat before.” That's all he says before he's disappearing into the bathroom.

It shouldn't be, but the certainty in his voice, the way he leaves no room for argument was extremely attractive to you. So much so, you're not even thinking twice when you're standing from your spot on the bed, picking out something you know he'll be pleased to see you in.

JUNE 13TH, 2021 | 16:56

After practice, you're being hauled off to lunch with his friends. A new girl on either one of their arms. Sad to admit, but you take a little pride in being the same girl he had spent the night with. Almost as if this was an official thing between the two of you. His friends are more digestible now that you know what to expect, so you're not even hesitating when they're extending the invite to play video games in their room to you.

When you had agreed, the last thing Yoongi thought was that you'd end up playing too. Had it thought up in his mind that you'd sit back with his head in your lap and your fingers in his hair. Never did he think you'd be perched at the edge of the bed, cussing Jungkook out for being too slow with covering you.

It was more than hot, to say the least.

That doesn't last long, though because he's itching to get you alone. He's ignoring the jokes after excusing the two of you, leading you up to the elevator with the giddiest of smiles. When you're asking what he's so excited about, he replies with a shrug. “I like hanging out alone with you.” If you didn't know Yoongi as well as you did now, you'd assume that there was some type of ulterior motive in his actions. A separate reason why he wanted to be alone, but no, he meant exactly what he said. Tired of sharing you with his friends all he wanted was you for himself.

You can't help but find his selfishness cute.

Crouched in the corner, Yoongi rummages through his bag while you scroll through the selection of movies on Hulu. You're being engulfed in darkness with the slight flick of his hand, surrounded by his scent. It takes a moment to realize that he's thrown something at you, reaching up to pull the garment from your head.

It's very clearly the jersey he wears for home games, but you still ask. “What's this?” He's plopping down on the bed beside you, tugging the controller from your hands to pick a movie himself.

“I want you to wear my jersey tomorrow,” He feigns nonchalance, but the flush in his cheeks is more than obvious. “What? Like we're dating?” It's hard to hide the smile that comes with the words. The thought of officially dating Min Yoongi, even though you were basically halfway there – didn't seem real to you.

He's dramatically rolling his eyes, letting out a huff. “What? Like we're dating?” Tone overly mocking and it has a giggle falling from your lips. “I just spent eight hours with my dick pressed against your ass,” The compromising position you had slept and woke up in reentering your mind.

Much harder than you thought to keep your composure when it was just the two of you alone like that. If his schedule wasn't packed and he was spending more time in bed this morning, there was no way you would've let him out of it. Still, he was still who he was so you can't help the words that leave your lips.

“You could've sent nine with someone else,”

Yoongi doesn't even bother to entertain the slight slander, shifting so his full focus is on the television. “Wear the jersey.” And there it was again, the no-nonsense tone that left zero room for argument. Only this time it's only because he's sure he'll lose. You weren't wrong. While he was dotting on you and giving you all his attention, right now, that didn't change the fact he was still entertaining someone who wasn't you.

Never mind the fact that it wasn't fully physical, how could he preach about being all about you and treat you as such when he spent the late hours of the night getting off to someone who wasn't you? It didn't make sense. And each and every time he thought about it, it had guilt building in his chest.

He needed to come clean.

JUNE 14TH, 2021 | 22:39

There was something sexy about a winner. The energy they gave off whenever they entered the room, demanding attention without saying anything at all. You can't help but look, can't help but notice the greatness that surrounded them. How easily things went their way because that's how it was for winners.

Min Yoongi was a winner, on and off the court and he knew it too. Had no problem with sharing that information with anyone who'd listen. That's how the majority of his press interviews go that morning. Confident predictions of the game to come promises to bring home to gold so to speak.

From anyone else it would be seen as annoying, conceited, or cocky, but not for Min Yoongi because he was right. The backbone of his team and there was no denying that, no surprise when he was announced as MVP, the numerous shots he made to win the game repeated for emphasis.

Since the buzzer sounded, he's been riding the high of being the center of attention. Taking pictures, signing shirts, and chatting into microphones. And for the most part, it seems as if he's loving the sets of eyes on him. Which is why you're shocked when he's declining Jungkook's giddy invitation to the after-party in his room.

“Yn and I were gonna watch a movie,” He says instantly, the movie that you had mentioned in passing nearly slipping your mind. Yoongi ditching a party to stay in and learn about the unexplored parts of the ocean was a sight you thought you'd never see. His friends as well, the odd glances they shoot in his direction being proof enough.

He pays them no mind, stalking out of the gym with his arm around your shoulders. If you were to ask him why you're sure he'd shrug it off and say something along the lines of: 'I just like hanging out alone with you,'. Something he doesn't think holds much weight but makes your heart skip each and every time he's saying it.

Honestly, Yoongi had every intention to watch your lame movie when you're making your way back into the room. His mind only derails when he sees the casual way you pluck up his shirt from last night, slipping into the bathroom to change into it. Now it's hard to focus, no matter how loud the man talking is.

You're sat between his legs, back pressed to his chest in his shirt and an unbelievably short pair of shorts. So of course his hands are finding their way to your thighs, slowly inching their way higher while gauging your expression. You don't seem to mind, so he gets bolder, head dropping to the crook of your neck to place wet kisses against your skin.

It feels like middle school all over again, testing the limits and seeing how far he can go and he's pleased to notice that you've been letting him go much farther lately. Leaning back into him, tilting your head to give his lips more room – these were all signs of someone who wanted more.

So who would he be not to give it to you?

That's the last coherent thought he has before his brain is turning to mush. All full of you and your scent and the sound of your quiet moans. He's not even sure how you got underneath him, fingers tangled in his hair and soft lips pressed to his ear. Always so cautious when it comes to you, he's slow with the way his hands move up toward your chest. Brows raising as your back arches into his touch, he doubles down, swiping his thumbs over the peaks through the fabric and you're moaning again.

The sound goes straight to his dick, you can feel it pressed against your thigh and your greedily clenching around nothing – tired of being ignored for so long. “You're missing your show,” Arms on either side of your head, Yoongi looks down at you with a teasing smirk playing on his lips.

Any ounce of sanity you had before goes flying out the window at the sight of his face. You wanted him. So tired of acting like you didn't, his body fit so perfectly between his legs and you couldn't help but wonder how good it would feel without all of the clothes in the way.

It's tough to say it out loud. 'Take me, I'm yours.' felt a bit too dramatic for this situation. Never wanted losing your virginity to be made into a huge deal, it was just something that you hadn't done – there was no need for dramatics to surround it. You were sure Yoongi wouldn't be a huge fan of all that either.

So you don't say anything, instead, you're using the grip you hold in his hair to pull him down toward you. Legs spreading so he can fit a bit more comfortably between your legs, pelvic bone pressed to yours.

Of course, he notices the shift, the look in your eye before you're pulling him in for another kiss. Normally, he takes the lead, guiding the movements of your lips and setting the pace.

That's not the case this time around, you've obviously been taking notes from the times that he's kissed you because you're almost exactly mimicking his moves. And even though he knows it's coming, he still feels his cock jump when you're pushing your tongue past his lips.

Slowly, you're peeling his shirt from his body – only breaking away for a moment to tug the garment over his head. A wet trail of kisses leading down his neck as your soft hands explores the ripples of his stomach. No idea what came over you or how far you were willing to let this go, but he was enjoying every second of it.

Nearly loses it when you're reaching for his hand, dragging it around your body to rest on your ass. He can't help it, palm squeezing around the flesh almost immediately. He holds back from dipping his fingers in the fabric, recounting the events of tonight to ensure you've had nothing to drink. Because this was so out of character and he hardly knew if he should believe it's real.

Easily sensing his hesitation, you're angling your hips up to meet his. “Touch me. I wanna feel you,” Your words hold so much promise that it has a stutter in his movements, eyes bulging as he over analyses what to do next. You're not like any virgin he's been with before, calling the shots and voicing what you wanted. It's nearly enough to drive him mad.

Nearly. He still was who he was, so he's quick to regain his composure, fingers sliding past the waistband of your shorts to meet your bare ass. “You wanna feel me?” The cockiness is evident in his tone and it's much hotter than you'd guess. “You gonna let me pop your cherry?”

That's when the weight of what's about to happen hits you. Nervousness creeping in because you were going to do it, give yourself to Yoongi miles away from home in his hotel bed simply because you wanted to. No weighing your options or drawing up pros and cons, you were going simply on feeling.

Sadly, that doesn't stop your mouth from opening before your brain can interject. “Actually, nothing pops... or breaks. Hymens stretch during penetration and it shouldn't hurt either. Pain during the first time comes from inexperience or anxiety,” Reciting word for word what you had read when you did research.

Yoongi's letting out a loud laugh, head bowing and bumping against yours lightly. “You surely know how to kill a boner,” He jokes, but that doesn't stop the embarrassed flush from darkening your cheeks.

“Sorry... I'm nervous,”

He's hitting you with the softest smile you've ever seen him muster. “It'd be weird if you weren't. You want to, though?” It's the most serious you've seen him, eyes boring into yours as he searched for any sign of hesitance.

And you have zero plans of giving him any, eagerly nodding your head at his words. “Yes. I want you to pop my cherry,” A loud laugh escapes him, chuckles shaking his back and you're so distracted by the sound you don't even notice the way he's started to inch your shorts down. “It sounds weird when you say it,” Hands quickly getting rid of the useless fabric, his fingers hover over your covered slit.

Even still, you can't keep your tongue from moving. “Because it's not scientifically correct. I-” His fingers are finding your lips, putting a literal stop to your words and it takes everything in you not to stick your tongue out to get a taste.

“Shut up. Just kiss me,” No protests on your end, you're quickly leaning up to press your lips to his.

Kissing you was clearly a distraction for what he planned to do next, two fingers pushing their way past your walls. It's a tight stretch you hadn't expected, but your whines die on his tongue. He's slow with the pumps of his fingers, fascinated with the way you pull him in each time he tries to pull back.

The wet squelch is loud and if you couldn't feel just how hard he was right now, you'd be embarrassed. No matter how aloof you tried to act when the two of you were alone, the wetness surrounding his fingers was proof enough that all that was really just an act. And that's more than obvious to him, the small fact being saved in the back of his mind to tease you about later.

His fingers are hitting particularly deep, thumb expertly pressed into your clit. Your mouth falls from his as a loud moan sounds from your throat, ripples of pleasure shooting through your legs. “Shit, you're so wet.” He sounds desperate when he says it, fingers speeding up to match the movement of your hips.

“I want to taste you so bad. Make you cum all over my tongue. You'd like that, huh?” His words are hushed, breath hot against your ear as he speaks. All you can muster is a breathless: “Please,” Legs spreading in the most inviting way possible, all he does is laugh – placing a soft kiss on your lips.

Head shaking as he pulls away, Yoongi moves his fingers with much fervor. He takes the spread of your legs as an invitation to push another finger in, the tightness around his fingers has a groan leaving his lips. “So fucking tight. I can't wait, baby. I need to be inside you...” How he's able to carry on conversation while pushing you so close to the edge was beyond you.

Thumb rubbing fast circles into your clit while his fingers keep up with their steady pace. You're gasping out your release, wetness surrounding his fingers and he's never moved faster in his life. Fingers slipping from inside of you to fumble with the waistband of his shorts, his dick is out in seconds.

“Fuck, you look so good when you cum.” He's saying, but you can barely focus on catching your breath let alone the words coming from his mouth.

What does catch your attention, though, is the wet shine of his fingers. Coated with your juices and if you concentrated hard enough, you could see the way it dripped down his palm. You're moving before you can talk yourself out of it, hands wrapping around his wrist to bring his hand down toward your face.

Not a bit of hesitation in the way your mouth wraps around the wet digits, sucking your cum from them while he watches on with wide eyes. The last thing he expected from a virgin like you, but the familiarity of the way your tongue slides between his fingers is peaking his interest. Sure he's never felt this before... you're the first to shove his fingers in their mouth, but not the first to mention it.

The thought is fleeting, though, distracted by the sexy smile that spreads across your features as you pull his even wetter fingers out. “You're so fucking... and here I thought you were cute and delicate.” Your giggle is the prettiest sound he's ever heard, he's sure of it.

“I'm far from delicate,” You're saying through a laugh and it has to be a coincidence. There's no way, right? The feeling that he's had this conversation before was just a thing, right? Not to be taken seriously. Especially when he had his dick out like this.

So he pushes it aside, taking hold of his dick instead. He loves the automatic way you spread open for him, making it easy for him to line the head of his cock up with your wet hole. He takes his time with pushing forward, allowing you to adjust and feel every inch of him until his hips are resting against yours.

Much tighter than he had ever imagined even after just cumming. You've got your eyes squeezed shut, deep breaths lifting your stomach. Obviously trying to get used to the feeling and he waits, peppering soft kisses to your chest and neck as an attempt to soothe you.

He's not sure how long it is before you're giving him the green light, but once he sees the nod of your head he's speeding forward. A few stuttered thrusts are spared to fall into a steady pace that has both of your toes curling. It's like nothing you've felt before, pain melting into pleasure the deeper he pushes.

It's good for him too, so much so he can barely decide what to do with his hands. Going from your breasts to your hips around to your ass. He wants all of you at once and was doing very little to hide that fact. The tightness in his stomach comes much faster than he's used to and it has everything to do with the fact that it's you.

Somehow, he manages to hold on until you're squirming again. Desperate pleas for him to let you cum filling the room along with a whiny chant of his name. A sound that's all too familiar to ignore, he's heard his name like that before and if he were to scroll through his old messages, the evidence would be right there.

Still, he needs a little bit more convincing. Could be his mind playing tricks on him, karma for even entertaining someone else when he was like this with you. So he had to test it, “Fuck, petal. I'm gonna cum,” He tries not to make it obvious, eyes searching your face for any hint of reaction to the pet name.

And if he wasn't paying attention, he would've missed the slight shift in expression that you're quick to mask. He meant it when he said he was close though, so his mind is going blank after a few more thrusts. “Shit, shit.” He's pulling out a second before he's spilling his seed onto your lower belly, the warmth spreading throughout your body and has a moan falling from your lips.

The two of you lay like that for a few moments, trying to catch your breath while watching each other. He doesn't lean down to kiss you as you expect, instead, he's getting up to put a bit of space between you. Mumbling something about helping you clean off, but you're barely listening.

Too shocked at what he had called you just moments before. Petal.

It had to have been a slip up, there was no way he knew. But that small fact alone has the guilt growing in your chest. You felt dirty laying here wrapped up in his arms. And there was only one way to get rid of his feeling.

You needed to come clean.

— he has no idea who you are… up front, you’re sweet and innocent - but in reality you’re the exact opposite. running your own nsfw account, where your favorite topic is his hands.

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⇝ taglist: @fanfics-for-fun @adventuresinwonderlust @taeshuworld @hisbutton-nose @un2-verse @sugarplummies @tetsuswhore @bdmn127 @mydaeguboys @peterparkerspjsuit @dingzerenistall @kassrole @shameless-army @min-yus @scoobertandnorville @stvvcks @mooniyooni @thesweetest-peas @toomanydamfandoms @sugacoateds @kookiecharm @alytavzla @hobi-love @yoongis-cumsock @httpmedxsa @misa-ndry @gracefulevijlsoul @dahliciouz @vantaesy @persphonesorchid @irantoyouwithoutthinking @mariojins @luvrsofbts @winterbear-itselira @softforhoseok @btsqualityy @lulissmp @ddxtae @kosmicbomb @crispychannie @glitchingghosts @valkytten @miriamxsworld @purplebanditflowerslime @ohshutupjimin @rip-namjoons-broken-toe @luv4dream @delicate-snow-flake

⇝ taglist: @lochness-butmakeitsexy @yoongistangerine @hxseok-honee @flowerblu00 @crewzie-chan @persphonesorchid @kawaiiixchan @anonymous-appreciation @lilacrosebud @mogithewhale @julyarchives @namjeonii @nyamnomnamujoon @doespink @taegijns @billy-jeans23 @ctrlvmin @ary002 @allie-mcginn @sugas-bbygirl @murderyoursoul @nbaybe @evafrechette @dreamer95 @marpotterhead @domjungwoo @diaofthemond @bravered21 @etherealyoonghwa @softlyjins @deliciouslydisturbed365 @http-kimara @izzyexe @moonchild1 @avaryjillian @instantspot @ashleyjoyx @yvesplz @tenkokit @hellonogblogstuff @gaeguuliii @minyoongail @agustd-2020 @sexykpoprincess-blog @annonymousgirlsworld @french-myfries @sumzysworld @writer-forall-stuff42 @marplest

A/N: timestamps make sense throughout the fic. if u want to be added to the tag list, send me an ask! + if you’ve asked to be on my permanent taglist, you do not need to ask to be added to this one !!

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jennaissantes · 2 years

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happy birthday loser — s.jy

pairing: jaeyun × gn!reader

genre: fluff, confession

warnings: lowercase intended. grammatical errors lol. rated pg13

wc: 1k

TAGLIST: @wonjaems @sweetrainwrites s @azure-arcanum @0x1lovebot @jalnandanz @dosiedior @enhacolor @jungwoniics @sunshinelixie-lee @baekhyunstruly @goldenhypen @heelariously @navsnct @yurazuyori @odetoyeonjun @uanel @liliansun @w3bqrl l @vantxx95 @amakumos @mygnolia @sunflower-euphro @sjyuniverse @wonyofanclub @abdiitcryy @dyzennie @yenart @missmadwoman @ja4hyvn @tomorrowbymoa-together @rutowonz @gyuwrites @verifiedsunghoonsimp p @lomlyeonjun @youreverydayzebra @soobin-chois @ilandsghost @itaintlavuu @pshwyfie @sakvas @moaengenesworld @ncityy04 @ily-cuz-i @beomsun @jeonjkslvr @acciomylove @nikkitc0703

"mina i told you im not gonna do it." you tell your best friend, frustratedly as she keeps egging you on to confess to your crush, the it boy of the school, jake sim.

"but literally why not? have you seen the way he gives you heart eyes when youre not looking??", she asks you, still not giving up on her mission.

it was jakes birthday tomorrow and mina wouldnt stop telling you to confess to him. sure you had hoped he might like you back.. but it was impossible. he had so many people fawning over him, there was no way he would have a keen eye just for you. why should he? youre not special.

"he does not give me heart eyes." you deadpan. mina rolls her eyes, tired because you wouldnt believe her. she decides to take one last try

"ok then. try this. just write him a letter and put it in his locker before he arrives to school. and dont reveal you identity. just give.…hints that its you. and tell him to meet you at the rooftop after class if he figures it out!" she suggests.

you bite your lip, " but that wont work. what if he thinks im someone else and comes to the rooftop?"

"then pretend youre there just to look at the scenery".

you thought about it for a while.

well. the worst that could happen is him rejecting me so i guess ill do it

sigh. "fine okay ill do it" you tell your best friend, who widens her eyes and whoops in victory, "YES! now go write it!!", she pushes you to your desk and fishes out a pen and paper.

you sigh as you sit down to write

dear jake,

first of all, happy happy happy birthday to youl! i hope you have the best day ever and smile all day.

so uh.. this isnt just some happy birthday letter but uh.. also a confession letter?

yeah so

i like you. a lot. since we were in 6th grade. yes i know thats a long time but well :/

im not telling you who i am but uh heres some hints:

ive been in the same class as you since 4th grade

we've been partnered up for biology lab together for a few years

you know me pretty well

one of my best friends is the girlfriend of one of your best friends.

i think its very obvious now isnt it?

i really dont wanna ruin the friendship we barely have with this, so im really hoping that either you dont read this or dont care about it :E

i love your smile btw. keep smiling. always

if youve figured out who i am, then come meet me at the rooftop after school. ill only wait for 15 minutes max.

happy birthday once again

with lots of love,

its a secret <3

you hold the piece of paper up in the air, re-reading what you wrote. you turned to your best friend,

"is this good enough? or have i told him too much?"

your best friend squealed "this is perfect! ill buy a bunch of cookies to go with it! and we leave early you nod. then sigh. oh what was going to happen tomorrow?

the next day, as planned, the two of you left early so you would get the chance to slip in the letter along with a few cookies mina had bought.

she ushered you inside and told you she would wait outside so it wouldnt look suspicious and she would tell you if she saw anyone coming in.

you silently walked towards jakes locker, number 537, and was about to slip in the letter when..

"What are you putting in my locker?" a very familiar voice rang through the empty halls of the hallway.

you gasped and turned around, not expecting too see jake himself, leaning against one of the walls adjacent to the lockers.

you flushed red, "oh j-jake, i didnt see you there", you say taking a step back and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

he chuckled "clearly. so what were you doing? looks like you were putting a letter in there?" he looked at the piece of paper in your hand, along with the cookies and smiled to himself

"oh uh. this?" you say, waving the piece of paper as he nods "oh that- thats not very important anyways pfft. its just a letter", you say, not able to look him in the face. he smiles and comes closer to you, which you didnt see, until he spoke up, "well then i should read it right? if its for me" and you widened your eyes in panic, "oH. NO u dont have to read it. its, stupid." your voice becomes small towards the end of the sentence.

he snatched the letter from you and you started panicking, "HEY! GIVE IT BACK!" : (. "why? i was supposed to read it anyways, so why not just read it now?", he says and opens your letter. you were barely able to breathe as he read your letter, making sure that every word you had said, was engraved in his heart. he couldn't stop smiling the entire time, blushing at your words. you kept fiddling with your hands as he finished the letter and looked up at you. "guess it's not a secret anymore huh?"

"h-huh?"

"you know.. ive always had a crush on this one person.. theyre really pretty, even though they dont think so. i love their smile and their laugh, the way their head falls back and their eyes turn into smiling moon shapes when they laugh. we got partnered up for biology lab a few years ago and ive had a crush on them ever since, and quess what? they just confessed to me! can you tell how happy i am?", he finishes off with a sly smile, leaning your mouth hanging open in surprise at his sudden confession.

"y-you like me t-too?" you barely managed to speak through the sound of your heart beating fast

he takes a step closer to you and smiles, "i thought it was obvious by now"

"but... what about the other people who have a crush on you? most of them are so much better than me", you say, frowning. he pats your head in a loving manner, smoothening down all the messy small hairs, "they're not you, and you're the one i like, and you're always special to me."

you cant help the smile that comes at your face when he says those words. you hug him close, wrapping your hands around his waist and burying your face in his chest. he laughs at your cuteness and hugs you tighter, holding you close to him when he pulls away from the hug, he cant help but steal a glance at your lips, and you reciprocate the action too. he takes a last look into your eyes and leans down to connect your lips, his hands now snaking around your waist.

your heart bursts when your lips touch. its so much better than how they describe it in books and movies. it felt magical. he gives you few soft pecks and then pulls away, very much content with how his day had started.

"happy birthday jakey"

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hyunnows · 2 years

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MISTLETOE | LEE FELIX

PAIRING(S): Felix x reader

RATING: pg13

WORD COUNT: 1.3k+

CONTENT/WARNING(S): fluff, failed attempts to kiss reader, oblivious!felix, even more oblivious!reader, christmas fic, skz playing matchmakers, mentions of slightly heavier/more suggestive kissing

SUMMARY: Felix has been trying to kiss you all night, only to repeatedly fail and play it off. The boys take notice and decide to help him out.

SKZ TAGLIST: @hyunjun-jpeg @geniejunn @koroleva--rezni @jannine00742 @im-questioning-my-existence @sunshinelixie-lee @mythicalamphitrite @minspalette @koovvie @felix-neverbad

A/N: for @freckledwinterfalls! happy belated birthday, again lol! here's your birthday fic! im not too great at setting up kisses, so i really hope you enjoy this! i love you xie, you mean so much to me and i hope you had a great birthday, and that there are many more to come! have a great day/night everyone! <3

Positive note | SKZ M.list | Taglist

The first time was during the movie. Felix was to your right, the seat on your left empty, just like the seat on his right.

Throughout the movie, your hands brushed each time one of you tried to grab from your shared popcorn. You’d fed each other gummy snacks and unhealthy chips instead of paying attention to the film for the most part.

Then he’d caught you staring at the film intensely as the main protagonist finally confessed to the girl he was in love with. Bows my chance, he’s foolishly thought, nervously leaning towards you to put a gentle kiss on your cheek. He was centimeters away when you pulled away from him, reaching over to the side of the couch for your overnight bag.

Turning back, you noticed Felix’s stiff, hovering posture, quirking a curious brow at him as you decided to inquire about his pose. “I-I was getting stiff. Just wanted to stretch a bit," he lied, beginning to arch his back with his palm on his hip in a faux stretch, unaware of the seven pairs of eyes trained on you two, filled with pity for the silver-haired boy.

The second time was during dinner, all nine of you surrounding one table—save for Hyunjin and Seungmin who opted to sit on the counters for space maximization. Felix had been talking to you in a side conversation from the rest, the two of you in your own world.

You’d leaned over, your face millimeters from his. Oh, she’s making the first move, was his initial thought while he closed his eyes, puckering his lips slightly. His heart raced in anticipation, before he heard a faint rip and felt your radiating warmth disappear.

You were grabbing a napkin from behind him, not trying to kiss him. Peeking at you with one eye, he saw your confused expression, a slight smile hinting at the corners of your mouth. “What are you doing? Is the food too spicy?”

Opening his other eye, he nodded, pretending to quickly blow air on and out of his puckered lips to cover up that he so obviously was trying to kiss one of his best friends—oblivious to his other best friends watching as he pathetically covered up his attempt at getting a kiss.

And the third time, Hyunjin had suggested truth or dare, hoping to help the poor boy in his mission to kiss you.

The moment it was his turn, the blond had chosen you, knowing you’d pick dare because if nothing else, you loved adrenaline. Straight to the point, he’s challenged you, “I dare you to kiss Felix."

You gave him a look of determination, turning to the younger boy and putting one hand on his freckled cheek, the other rested on his chest as you knelt from your position on the floor—you all sat around in a circle, because how else do you set up for truth or dare—pulling him closer slightly as you leaned forward.

He closed his eyes the moment he felt your breath lingering just above his lips, hoping you couldn’t hear his heart hammering in his chest. It’s happening. Finally!

He failed to see you bite your lip gently as you contemplated your decisions, before nervously settling on a peck to his cheek.

Leaning down, back into your spot, you missed the way Felix gaped at you in shock and giddiness—as well as how the others shake their heads in disappointment. Hyunjin gave you a dirty look, and you’d just shrugged. “You didn’t say where.”

Now, Felix had officially given up on trying to earn a kiss from you. Maybe you’d noticed his attempts, but didn’t feel the same and wanted to give him the opportunity of not embarrassing himself.

However, the others aren't so fond of his lost resolve. You two are head over heels for each other, but somehow you were both almost completely oblivious to the other’s feelings. They can’t understand how, though—you’re so obvious in your affection.

So, taking matters into their own hands, they managed to get you both on the couch side by side, the other two—Han and Minho, who had offered to put on a movie—excusing themselves for “Snacks, because what’s a movie without snacks?" Not so subtly scrambling off the couch and rushing out of the room.

Felix taps his thigh, his nerves eating away at him now that you’re alone. Should he confess? Is this the moment where he spilled his heart to you so you could finally accept or reject him?

You, on the other hand, are trying not to let the effects of being so close to Felix so often in such little time get to your head. Sure, you know Felix likes you—but only as much as a friend would like another friend. You’re almost positive that while he chose to hang out and be close to you in so many situations, he doesn’t reciprocate your heartfelt longing to be his.

“…so, are you having fun…?" He tries to break the ice, his deep voice masking his shakiness. Damn, he’s so wrecked over being right next to you, alone. There’s nobody around to interrupt him, if only he was brave enough, he could just pull you closer and—

“Yep, what about you?" You joyfully answer, smiling gently at him, your eyes sparkling with admiration that he still manages to miss.

Shaking his head to bring himself out of his lovestruck mind, he grins. “Um—yeah, I am." He doesn’t bring up how the ways you’ve managed to avoid his attempts of stealing a peck from your lips has put a dampener on his mood. In reality, he’s content with just hanging out with you.

You nod, opening your mouth to say something else when a green and red bundle of leaves and berries are shoved between your faces—Jeongin’s mischievous grin peeking out from behind the couch. “You’ve been mistletoed! Now you have to kiss!" His joyfully teasing voice instructs.

“Aren’t people supposed to kiss under the mistle toe?" You laugh at him, watching as he raises his arm above your heads cutely.

“Now kiss!”

You stare at Felix, biting your lip gently. Should you kiss him? You don’t want to make things awkward, even if he did like you back. But… you also really want to kiss him. “We obviously don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

Clearing his throat and trying to look everywhere besides your lips—which he’s failing miserably at—he sputters. “D-do you want to?”

“Only if you’re okay with it.”

“I-I mean—“

“Oh my goodness you both like each other and obviously want to kiss! We’re trying to help you, so stop babying each other and start smooching!" Seungmin exasperates, sick of watching you two dance around each other when you both so obviously want the same thing. The others are tired of watching the scene unfold, too.

You two stare at each other for a good few seconds, Felix finally getting the confidence to lift his hand to your cheek, his other resting on your waist lightly as he leans in for the third time tonight.

Your heart thumps erratically—your pulse in your ears as your lips finally connect with his after months of pining for each other.

The sounds of cheers and two ‘oh, finally!’ ring from the hallway, making you two pull away slightly to giggle. The youngest sneaks away quickly, taking the decorative plant away with him as the two of your reconnect lips.

Seeing you two begin to kiss a bit more feverishly, Felix now climbing over your figure, both hands on your face—seems like all those nerves are gone now—they pull him away from the view. Proud of himself—surprisingly, Jeongin was the one to come up with this plan—he waves the mistletoe in the air happily. “Let’s go make other people kiss—“

Chan takes the plant away quickly, hanging it back on the wall. Remembering how close you two were on the couch, kissing each other like you’ve never kissed anyone before, he shakes his head. “I think one happy new couple is enough for tonight.“

Positive note | SKZ M.list | Taglist

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pepper-up-potion · 3 years

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One page, one kiss (Sirius black x Gn!reader)

Summary: Reader wants to read but Sirius isn’t much of a reader. Maybe kisses can create a good compromise.

Warnings: sooooo things didn’t go as planned and now there’s a steamy kiss, some hand on thigh action and a little hinting at the possibility of other things. That being said I feel like it’s pretty PG13 and sfw so it’s up to you if you want to read it or not. Other than that there aren’t any, everything else is fluff.

Word count: 1119

A/n: So I had a whole outline and everything planned out and then this “steamy” kiss (but it’s not acc steamy, like I don’t want you to get your hopes up) and all sort of came out of nowhere. Sorry about that folks! The kiss per page is a thing that my boyfriend created to motivate me to read cuz I’m not much of a reader (though I really am trying to read more). I feel like there’s always more important things to do than read but once I start I actually really like it. I sort of saw Sirius like me in that sense.

“So what do you want to do today?” Asks Sirius, walking towards you. You lift a finger to tell Sirius to wait as you finish reading your sentence. You then place that finger on the word on your page, saving your place and look up at him.

“Read.” You state simply from the couch.

There’s a stutter in his step. “All day?” He asks, a pure look of shock on his face.

“All day.” You affirm with a small proud smile. Sirius plops on the couch next to you with a heavy sigh.

“What am I to do?” He huffs, throwing his arms in the air and pouting. You smile to yourself, there’s nothing cuter than a pouting Sirius Black. You slide over to him and turn to face him. You push a strand of his hair behind his ear.

“You could read too, you know.” There’s no judgment in your recommendation. Your voice is soft and patient. You know Sirius doesn’t like to read much but you try to encourage him to do things, much like he does for you.

Sirius being Sirius, is dramatic enough to fall onto your lap and cover his eyes, as if trying to hide from the idea of reading. You roll your eyes but you have nothing but adoration for Sirius.

“Aw c’mon Sirius, give it a try.” You nudge him with your elbow. He peaks between his fingers hesitantly. You tickle his chin gently and flash an enticing smile. Sirius doesn’t move, apparently not ticklish. You try to pull his hands away from his eyes instead. He finally gives in and let’s you gently pull them down to his chest. You hold his hands in place, rubbing circles on the back of them.

You lean down for a short kiss on the lips. Sirius hums and chases your lips as you pull away and sit back up. He pouts again, giving you puppy dog eyes for another kiss.

That’s when you get a wicked idea. You push a finger to Sirius’ lips and smile. “I’ve got an idea.”

Sirius tilts his head, waiting for you to elaborate. “We make a deal. For every page read, you get a kiss.” You propose.

Sirius thinks about it. You know he’s trying to find a loophole. A way he can get kisses without having to crack open a book. You patiently run your hand through his hair, knowing he’ll eventually cave.

“Fine.” He sighs. You try to hide your smile. It’s a delicate victory. He could change his mind anytime. You pick up your wand from the couch armrest and summon Sirius’ book. It takes a while, he probably buried it deep under a pile of clothes.

Sirius settles next to you, opening his book with a sigh. You give him a teasing hum before opening your own book and starting to read.

You flip your page once you’ve finished reading the last sentence and quickly start the new page, engrossed in your story.

“Kiss.” You jump a little, forgetting Sirius was even next to you. You give him a confused look before you remember your deal. You smile softly, gladly accepting a kiss from your boyfriend.

You lean forward and plant a short and sweet kiss to Sirius’ lips. When you pull back, Sirius gives you a triumphant look, happy with his little victory.

The same situation happens again after every page you or Sirius finishes. Soon enough Sirius finishes his first chapter and sits up.

“You know, I worked pretty hard to get to the end of this chapter.” He pauses.

You nod slowly, “yes, and I’m very proud of you for that.” There’s a hint of hesitation in your voice. You know your boyfriend too well to know this is just him recognizing his accomplishment.

“I think it’s only fair I get 15 kisses for finishing the chapter.” He gives you an innocent look but you can see his mischievous smile on the corner of his lips.

You lift your eyebrows and gape at Sirius. You quickly compose yourself and smile. “Is that right?” You taunt.

Sirius nods seriously. He stares into your eyes and doesn’t budge. You try to fight it, your competitive side not wanting to face but eventually you roll your eyes, accepting defeat.

“We’ll I suppose I won’t turn down the opportunity for a few more kisses.” You say with a sarcastic sigh. In seconds Sirius is hovering close to your face. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in.

The first couple of kisses are just little pecs on the lips but soon your kisses evolve into open mouthed ones. Sirius brings his hand up to your face and cups your cheek. He places his second hand behind your head and guides you down on the couch so you’re lying down. He props one arm on either side of your head and slips his tongue past your lips. You grab the back of his head and pull him even closer, deepening the kiss.

Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen. You count in your head.

You push on Sirius’ chest and he groans. “That’s fifteen. Back to your book mister.” You say cheekily.

Sirius steps off of you and grabs his book. You sit up and settle back on the couch with your book. Suddenly there’s a warm hand curled around your thigh. He never looks away from his book but there’s a gentle squeeze when you look at him with wide eyes. Maybe reading isn’t the only thing you’ll be doing today after all.

Turns out you were severally wrong. As Sirius goes from page to page and chapter to chapter, the kisses become rushed and almost undesired. You realize Sirius is so hooked in his book that he would rather read than kiss. Eventually he even stops kissing you altogether.

While you do miss the cute little kiss routine, you are happier to see Sirius being so engrossed into his story. It also gives you the chance to read without interruption. Eventually Sirius lays his head in your lap with his book held up above his head. You play with his hair and focus on your own book, sometimes looking down to watch him zoom through his book.

Hours fly past, the both of you lost in your books. You first spot it out of the corner or your eye. Sirius turns another page and you realize he is at the last one of his book. There’s a sudden pride that swells in your chest. Comparing the morning where he was whining about having to read and him now finishing his book.

He suddenly snaps his book shut, breaking the relaxing silence in the room. He sits up and turns to look at you. You open your mouth to comment on how happy you are that he completed a book but he speaks first.

“You owe me 510 kisses.” His face is dead serious. He sits with his book closed on his lap and waits. When you don’t move, feeling quite stunned, he puckers his lips a little and gives you puppy dog eyes.

There’s the Sirius you know. Always finding loopholes in every situation.

#sirius black #sirius x reader #sirius black x reader #sirius black x gn!reader #sirius black imagine #sirius black fluff #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #sirius imagine #marauders fluff #marauders era

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ncityrave · 3 years

Text

Extra Clothes

Pairing: Mark Lee x Fem Reader

Genre: Much much much much fluff. Best friend!AU. Mutual pining. Suggestive themes.

Rating: PG13

Synopsis: Mark's been hiding his feelings for his best friend. Maybe a spilt bowl of ramen can help him confess.

Warnings: Mentions of food. Detailed kissing scene. Mark being dense af

Word count: 4.1k

Masterlist

A/N: All these Mark oneshots are turning him into my bias pleAZZZZZZ. Based off this ask 💖

It has become common practice for parents to ship their child with any playmate they meet at daycare or elementary school who is of the opposite sex. Don’t get the wrong impression, it’s quite strange to fantasize about your toddler falling in love and settling down at such an early stage of their life. You know, when they can barely run on their wobbly feet without falling flat on their faces and crying their tiny hearts out.

That was the childhood that Mark had to endure when he decided to befriend your little self all those years ago. Yet he never let his parents’ strange, heteronormative expectations get to him for most of his life.

Even during the awkward stage between middle school and high school, the go-to reaction was to yell out an exaggerated ‘ew!’, stare judgingly at his parents, beg them to never say such things again and then move on.

Well, until now that is. Mark wasn’t exactly sure when he had started seeing you in a different light. Maybe the daily nagging from his mother had finally planted enough subliminal messages in his head or maybe it just came naturally with getting to know you and seeing you grow up with him.

One thing was for sure, he was completely and utterly enamored with you - not that he was going to tell you though. Or admit it to himself, for that matter.

“I don’t understand why you can’t just, you know, give a little hint,” Jaemin says from his side, munching on a granola bar.

“Is that even a question?” Mark retorts, eyebrows knitted together as he stirred the ramen boiling below him.

“It’s pretty clear that you guys have known each other for a while. Plus everyone keeps asking you two if you’re dating. Maybe it’s time to give it a try?” the younger presses on, mouth curved into a smirk.

“Yeah. No,” Mark replies, turning around to grab some bowls to ready the noodles. “I’m pretty sure I’m just feeling super lonely because some people actually have those kinds of feelings and this is just me fantasizing about my best friend, cause those things happen sometimes.”

“Look, I’m all for boys and girls being friends without any romantic feelings involved but you’re missing out,” Jaemin comments ambiguously, making his way out of the kitchen and back into the living room.

Mark stands alone as he quietly works with the ramen, only the sound of boiling water and thought of a confession to keep him company. Confessing? Him? Confessing and possibly ruining a very good friendship if the feelings were unrequited? He would rather take this with him to the grave than do that.

Suddenly, a vibration from his pocket brings him back to reality. Looking down at his phone, he notices an incoming call from you. Speak of the devil.

“Yes?” he says into the phone.

“Emergency. I have no food and I am extremely hungry,” you whine.

“Then buy some,” he sarcastically answers. He hears a sharp, exaggerated gasp emanate from you and laughs quietly at your overreaction.

“How dare you propose I spend my own money to attend to my own needs,” you accuse him, feigning betrayal. His smile only grows wider, imagining you putting on the face of distaste you always do when you’re trying to convince him to do you a favor. Eventually, the face always works - even when he merely has to imagine it.

“Okay, fine. We have extra ramen -”

“I love you so much, I’m actually already on my way up,” you rush out, giggling to yourself. Mark shakes his head at your antics, making a deal with himself to add less noodles in your bowl just to mess with you.

“Stay safe, don’t trip on the stairs like last time,” he exclaims, hearing you let out a whine of annoyance before ending the call and setting his phone down on the counter and going back to attending to the ramen (and extra serving) he needed to prepare.

“Who was that?”Jaemin abruptly appears, walking into the kitchen now with a bag of chips cradled in his arms.

“Jesus! You scared me,” Mark scolds, placing a hand against his chest to calm his beating heart. The younger one once again moves close to him, leaning against the kitchen counter, eyes glinting mischievously.

“That was Y/N, wasn't it?” he asks, wagging his eyebrows up and down. Mark simply rolls his eyes, going back to his ramen business but Jaemin persists, grilling him even more.

“If you don't tell her, someone else will snatch her away,” he sing-songs, wagging his finger in disapproval.

“It won't matter cause she doesn't feel the same way,” Mark sings back, meticulously pouring the ramen into the bowls in front of him to avoid any spills.

“And how do you know that?”

“Because I’m her best friend and we understand each other’s vibes. You know, like telekinesis -”

“Telepathy,” Jaemin quickly corrects.

“Anyway,” Mark jeers, rolling his eyes at his friend. “She doesn't feel the same way and that's fine because this is just a little crush and it'll go away soon.”

“And if it doesn't?”

If it doesn't. Well, he hasn't considered that yet. Actually, he hasn't even considered if it was just a little crush to begin with.

In his defense, it was easier to deny the alleged infatuation than to act towards it. Although, it meant making a lot of assumptions about your relationship. Assumptions that weren't necessarily true - like you not reciprocating his romantic feelings.

He never asked, never mentioned it. Hell, he never even thought to entertain the thoughts even if they sat impatiently at the back of his head. So while he was trying his best to drive those ideas away from his consciousness, he also hadn’t noticed the small changes in your demeanor around him that Jaemin had taken note of.

Changes such as the way you train your eyes towards Mark for too long or how you smile just a little bit wider at Mark than anyone else or the way your energy just seems to shift as long as Mark was in the room. Small changes that eventually add up to a eureka moment - at least that’s how Jaemin sees it.

It takes way too long for Mark to refute his roommate’s claim and Jaemin simply lets his older friend dwell with his own thoughts, allowing Mark’s deep thinking to hopefully simmer into a realization.

Mark goes to open his mouth and spew whatever segue he’s come up with to avoid the conversation when a knock resonates from their door. Jaemin pads towards it, peeking through the peephole before opening it up. Your figure slips into the room from the other side and Jaemin wraps his arms around you tightly.

“Y/N!” he exclaims, hugging you against him. “I didn’t know you were coming over,” he lies, leering over at Mark before sending a subtle wink in his direction. “Guys! It’s Y/N,” he announces, waving towards you.

“Yeah, I just called on the way,” you mumbled softly, setting down your bag and placing your shoes on their rack.

The rest of his roommates greet you curtly from their position in front of the television, playing whatever video game they have decided would be the best way to relax into the night.

“Hi,” Jeno and Jisung quip. While Haechan, Renjun and Chenle had their eyes trained towards the screen, merely offering you a short wave before going back to their business.

You two walk towards where Mark is situated, cleaning up the pot he had just used while the bowls of ramen sat neatly on the counter.

“Hey,” he greets cheerfully, coming towards you to grab your jacket before hugging you softly.

“Hi,” you whisper back, offering him a small smile in return. He notices a slight change in your usually over energetic behaviour but pushes it aside, blaming the inconvenience of having to walk all the way to his apartment for your soured mood.

“Your ramen is all set. You can eat whenever you want, the guys are probably too busy now to -”

“I just need to go to the bathroom real quick,” you interrupt, quickly sidestepping away from Mark and down the hall towards his restroom.

At the sound of the door closing bouncing against the walls of the apartment, Mark shifts his gaze over at Jaemin with a look of confusion painted across his features hoping he could provide some answer to the way you’re acting, but his friend merely mirrors his expression.

“What was that about?” Jaemin utters, pointing over to where you had just disappeared.

Mark simply shrugs, lips pressed in a hard line as he attempts to sift through his brain for possible reasons. “How am I supposed to know?” he bites back.

“Where’s the telepathy you mentioned a while ago?” Jaemin exaggerated, hand coming to rest against his chest in mock shock, his eyes squinting over at Mark’s direction.

“That was a joke,” he grumbles back, arms crossing over his chest as his feet shuffle against the cold tiles of their kitchen.

“What’s gotten you so pissy?” Jeno asks, making his way into the kitchen with the others trailing quietly behind him. They all take their seats, each grabbing a bowl to feed their empty stomachs in desperate need of solid food after going on an energy drink-induced video game marathon.

"He has a crush on Y/N and he’s too afraid to tell her but right now she’s all moody,” Jaemin announces, pointing accusedly over at Mark, whose jaw drops at his friend’s bold proclamation of his infatuation with you while you were just a hallway down.

“Can you be any louder?” he harshly mumbles, coming towards Jaemin to clasp a hand over his mouth in fear that any other words coming out of his mouth might compromise him.

“I don’t even know why you’re so scared. It’s pretty painful watching the two of you pine over each other while you’re both completely clueless,” Haechan nonchalantly comments from his seat, nudging Renjun who simply nods his head in agreement, too busy with the ramen to contribute to the conversation.

Not that there was much to contribute since it was clear you were both to blind to even notice your crushes for each other. Earlier on, it was cute. Now, it was just unbearable.

Mark basks in the reality that his friends are absolutely useless in the current predicament of trying to figure out why you were so off. Even worse than useless actually; they're attempting to change the subject and blow out of proportion his tiny (it wasn't tiny) crush. Eyes trained towards the ceiling, he takes note to never bring up the topic of his love life when they're in the vicinity ever again.

“See? They agree with me,” Jaemin observes, sitting down on a seat of his own before grabbing a bowl for himself.

“Can we...can we rewind and focus first on the fact that our friend is in a less than cheery mood and by obligation we have to figure out why and help?” Mark scrutinizes, a grimace starting to form on his face.

“Only if you agree to be honest with your feelings,” Chenle butts, smirking to himself as Mark finds himself flustered by his friend’s request. “Oh hi, Y/N,” he waves towards Mark’s direction.

Mark is quick to whip his head around, worried that he'll find you behind him, his crush finally exposed because his friends suck at keeping their voices down. But he sees no one. He turns back towards his friends who are all sniggering over at him as he stands frazzled by the hallway.

“Hey! Not cool, man,” he staggers, a rosy tint slowly creeping up towards his cheeks and ears as he attempts to calm down from the false alarm.

“Dude, you're so whipped,” Haechan says through a mouth full of ramen.

“I am not,” he refutes, nostrils flared at his friends’ antics. Stomping towards the ramen, he picks up two bowls from the counter as he makes his way towards the other, less crowded end of the kitchen to avoid being flocked by their invasive questions.

Unfortunately, he doesn't notice the shadow against the wall as he rounds the corner, stumbling over his feet and effectively bumping into your figure, spilling the ramen all over the both of you.

He’s mortified, to say the least - a lot more mortified than he was moments ago when Chenle tried to prank him. Afraid that his clumsiness may have just aggravated your already less than favorable mood.

“Y/N, I'm so sorry! I didn't see you,” he reasons, setting down the empty bowls and ripping off tissue paper from the rack as he desperately tries to salvage the t-shirt he’s ruined.

“That is how you bump into someone,” Chenle quietly remarks from the side, earning him a glare from Mark.

Without noticing, he was dabbing hurriedly at your chest. A warmth spreads across your neck and face as you attempt to take a hold of his roaming hands.

“It's fine, Mark,” you awkwardly laugh out, grabbing hold of his wrists to steady him. “Can I - uh. Can I ask for some extra clothes?” you request, smiling down at your flustered friend.

Extra clothes. Right, that's the first thing you offer to someone you spilled ramen all over. You don't start feeling them up, he thinks to himself.

“Sure, come with me,” he says, leading you towards his bedroom, leaving his roommates to process what they had just seen.

“That was hell to watch,” Jisung finally says, shaking his head to himself.

“Here you go.” Mark hands you one of his t-shirts and basketball shorts. He turns to see you wiping away at the soup on your chest, eyes looking elsewhere as he notices how the liquid has caused your light-colored shirt to go slightly translucent.

You look up at him at the sound of his voice and take his clothes from his hands, whispering a soft thank you before disappearing into the bathroom.

Mark swiftly changes out of his own clothes before he slumps on his bed, awaiting for you to step out. But not while feeling embarrassed over his little accident and guilty for having to put you in an uncomfortable situation.

He notices you walk back into the room with your soggy, ramen-flavored clothes in hand, sporting his clothes on your frame. He didn't mean to but his mind starts to wander as he takes in the image of you in his clothes.

Like how well it fits on your frame. And how adorable you look in his clothes, probably encapsulated by the scent of his fabric conditioner. And how you looked very warm and cuddable. And how he’d like to continue seeing you in his clothes.

“Mark?”

He’s shaken from his thoughts, focusing once more on you as you point to the oily garments in your hand.

“Where can I put these?” you ask timidly, trying your best to avoid his wandering gaze.

“I can wash them for you,” he says, standing up to take your clothes in his hands and make his way towards the bathroom. Dumping your clothes into the sink, he turns on the hot water to hopefully wash off excess sauce before handwashing it himself.

“No,” you insist, trailing behind him. “It’s fine. I can wash it myself when I get home.”

“It's cool, Y/N,” he says sweetly, massaging the oils and coloring out of your garments. “It's my fault anyway.”

“I'll go get some detergent soap to help you,” you declare, padding out of the bathroom and towards Jaemin to ask him for some soap.

Mark is once again left alone with his thoughts, rubbing away at your t-shirt. Jaemin’s words continue to echo in his head. And what if it doesn't. If the crush doesn't go away, what now? He wasn't sure, but feeling giddy at the image of you in his clothes was definitely indicative of his true feelings for you.

You make your way back into the bathroom, a ruptured Tide pod in your hand and you lean over the sink to mix the soap in with the water, forming bubbles all over. While you quietly work the soap into your clothes, you notice Mark studying you closely through his bathroom mirror. Smirking up at him, you wave a hello to grab his attention.

“You good?” you jokingly ask.

“Yeah, just thinking,” he replies, going back to take care of your pants.

“I can't believe I'm trusting you with my pants when you can barely cook an egg,” you joke, smiling at the look of shock on his face.

“That's not fair, I cooked the ramen for you!” he jokes back.

“Then proceeded to spill it all over me,” you say.

With bubbles formed around your hands, you bring them up to your mouth and blow them towards your best friend. He moves back, giggling as he waves the soapy suds away, splashing water all over the countertop and floor. His hands find their way to the sink, dipping it into the cold water and flicking it towards your direction, laughing at your shocked expression.

Before you two knew it, you had splashed enough water at each other to turn your hair and clothes damp, laughing loudly at one another. Figuring you had played enough, you turn your attention back to the real reason you were here: to clean your ramen-drenched clothes.

The room goes quiet, only the sound of the exhaust fan and the voices of the boys down the hall filling your ears. Mark notices your change in demeanor once more and straightens himself up, turning slightly towards you.

“What's wrong?” he asks.

“What? Nothing. Nothing,” you trail, obviously hiding something.

“Are you sure? You seemed really tense since you got -”

“No, there's nothing wrong,” you meekly insist, eyes trained towards your shirt and Mark notices how you've been rubbing at the same spot even if there were no stains that needed to be tended to anymore.

“Dude, for real though. You can tell me,” he reassures softly, hand coming down to clasp your own.

You pause, eyebrows scrunched in contemplation. You take in a deep breath before looking up at your best friend. “I - I know.”

“Know? Know what - oh. You know,” he replies, eyes widening in realization. Damn Jaemin and his big mouth, he thinks.

“You forgot to put down the call,” you explain, seeing the way Mark’s face continues to redden under the harsh fluorescent lights as he processes that it wasn't Jaemin’s fault that you figured out his crush, but his own. But more importantly, trying to process that you know. You nibble slightly on your lip, anticipating his reaction - whatever it may be.

But Mark didn't know how to think, how to act, or how to speak. He stood frozen in front of you, mouth opening and closing but no words escaped past his lips.

“No, I didn't,” he decides to lie, squirming underneath your expecting gaze. He thinks that if he can convince himself and you that he did in fact put down the call and he did not have a conversation with Jaemin about you and you did not listen in that maybe, just maybe, you would think you had just imagined the whole thing and the conversation could be completely dropped.

It doesn't work.

“Yeah, you did,” you insist, lightly pushing at his chest to grab his attention. “Telekinesis is being able to move things with your mind, by the way. Like Professor X -”

“Okay, I get it! You heard and - and you know,” he trails, finding your soaked clothes suddenly a lot more interesting than the conversation at hand. “I know it makes things weird -”

“Actually, no it doesn't,” you butt in, mimicking the way he slowly scrubs at the garments. He looks over at you in shock, studying your face for any sign that you were lying or joking to cover up your distaste in the idea that your best friend has completely moved from platonic to romantic feelings in hopes that you'll save him from the embarrassment.

“It doesn't?” he meekly questions.

“Nope.”

“Why?”

It's your turn to face him, eyes wide in disbelief and fighting to hide the smile that's starting to creep onto your face. “You’re so dense,” you laugh out, splashing his face with water once more.

“Man, personally I would find it pretty awkward if your best friend unknowingly confessed his crush for you -”

“I like you too!” you finally admit, not believing it's taken so long for Mark to keep up with your hints. His eyes fixate on you once more, the corners of his lips starting to curve up into a boyish grin.

“You do?” he asks in disbelief. You quickly nod your head at him.

Without realizing it, he's moving towards you, grasping at your form and pulling you close even with his soapy hands, lips coming down to yours in a soft kiss. Surprised but not opposed to his actions, you kiss him back. Hands coming to bind behind his head, running your fingers through his hair and you feel him shiver from your cold, wet hands.

The two of you stay in each other's tight embraces, noses slightly bumping against each other as you both continue to fall deeper and deeper into the kiss - deeper and deeper into each other.

His senses heighten, smelling the mix of detergent soap and ramen soup emanating from all over you. Mark’s hands come down to hold you by the waist, lifting you up on the counter - completely forgetting about the wet clothes, cold ramen, and six other boys meters away - and nestles himself in between your thighs as he pulls you impossibly closer to his torso.

Your lips move effortlessly against one another, teeth clashing slightly from the brewing passion and heat from your bodies. Your hands come down from behind his head to the nape of his neck, rubbing smoothly over his warm skin.

Mark feels your heart harshly beating against your chest but he remains unfazed, the pitter patter of your heartbeats serving to only make him want to kiss you much deeper and never pull back for air. His hands come up to sneak against your back, clutching tightly onto your shirt in fear that if he loosens his grip even the slightest that you would pull away.

Heat rises in your stomach, making its way up your chest. Your mind falls victim to the magic that is his lips longingly pressed against yours - as if they had been yearning for your company for the longest time. And maybe, to some extent, they have.

He's the first to pull away, sighing contentedly down at you. A grin tugs at his reddened lips, wagging his eyebrows suggestively down at you while motioning towards his room, secretly relaying the message “Do you wanna continue making out? Cause I definitely wanna continue making out.”

“I asked for food, not kisses,” you joke, pushing him back slightly to jump off the counter.

“Well, you also asked for a best friend when we met, now you have a boyfriend,” he flirts back and you feel your blood rush towards your face.

“Don't make me feel these things!” you whine, smiling up at him before playfully nudging at his shoulder. “We should go back.”

As you attempt to move out of the bathroom and back to the kitchen where a bowl of ramen is hopefully waiting to be eaten and not spilled over you, Mark tugs at his shirt you're wearing, bringing your back flushed against his chest.

“You look really good in my clothes by the way,” he mumbles against your neck, nipping slightly at your skin. You turn around, smiling up at him before softly pecking his lips once more.

“And I'm really hungry, so let's go,” you finally say, tugging him along with you.

“I don't think so,” he declares, pulling you into his room before slamming the door shut.

From across the hallway - and unbeknownst to you and Mark - your “silent” conversation could be heard all the way in the kitchen.

“I'm starting to question myself if it was worth it making him trip now that we have to deal with that for as long as he's living with us,” Renjun says, trying his best to ignore the giggles and hushed conversation emanating from across the dorm as the rest of his friends grumble in agreement.

#nctcreations #nct u #nct 127 #nct dream #nct #nct fluff #nct dream fluff #nct 127 fluff #mark lee #mark lee fluff #mark lee imagine #mark lee imagines #nct 127 imagines #nct dream imagines #mark lee x reader #nct imagines

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writingfics-passingtime · 3 years

Text

Call Your Bluff

~9300 words of Loki tickle fluff that I'm a little insecure about. Sorry for rambling in this one!

First and foremost, the sexual tension in this made me kinda want to explode as I was writing it. Or maybe it was the mere thought of Loki in an all black suit. So there's your warning. Still NO smut.

Rating: PG13

CW: suggestive humour, sexual tension, swearing, brief mentions of homophobia

"What shade is that?" Wanda's eyes sparkled as she saw the swatch on your hand of a crimson lipstick that had only the smallest hint of shine to it.

"Uh..." you dug through your makeup bag. "This one. Ruby Promise." you passed it to her and went back to curling your lashes.

"Mmm, Wanda. You, in a red lip, are second-to-none," Nat said as she effortlessly flicked a perfect cat-eye wing, matching the on the other side.

You chuckled a little bit as you pulled the mascara from your bag. "It's nice to be applying makeup for fun." The two other women made sounds of agreement.

If any of you had been given the privilege of a normal life, sitting on your bedroom floor with music in the background as you applied makeup with your two closest friends may have been a nostalgic experience. Though, as to be expected, your memories of makeup were a lot different.

Covering cuts and bruises you sustained on a mission enough to look tough and untouchable during press conferences, a quick application of lipstick in the back of the car before seducing a guard enough to swipe his keys, hell, did fake blood count? Either way, those experiences with makeup far outweighed the ones you were having tonight.

You tried, as you buffed out the eyeliner into a smokey wing, to not be jealous of the people who did this every Friday night before some kind of social activity. You loved your job, you felt privileged to be able and allowed to help defend the world, so you reminded yourself that all those past concealer-covered cuts and bruises weren't for nothing; they protected the lives and realities of the eyeshadow-loving people who were lucky enough to only apply makeup for fun.

"How's your game?" Nat asked as she shimmied into a tight black dress.

You shrugged and stood, having now completed your look. "It's alright. Wanda?"

"I have no idea how to play Poker." She smacked her lips together and put the lipstick back in your bag. "And I have very little interest in learning. I'm coming for the cocktails Stark promised."

"You act like this isn't mandatory," you mumbled a little, sifting through dresses in your closet.

"Mandatory is a strong word," Nat scoffed, zipping the side of her dress. You shot her a look as if to say, 'You really think I wanted to spend my Friday evening playing poker with the Avengers?' Hearing your question in your glare, she gave you a look. "What, like you had something better to do?"

"Rude." You pulled a dress from the closet, knowing she was right. There was a book you'd been dying to finish, but you knew it was more important to be engaged as a part of your team tonight.

When Tony clapped his hands, once and loudly, over the weary lounging-around Avengers in the living room and declared you all needed a bit of fun, you immediately wondered how you could get out of it. Admittedly, the prospect of a black-tie poker night in the Compound didn't completely make you want to run away, but there was something about it that unnerved you. About giving all these powerful people a good chance to learn your tells.

"No," Nat snatched the plain navy dress from your hands. "That's way too boring."

"Uh, again: rude." You glared as she walked past and sifted through your options.

"You wore this when you posed as private balcony waitress at that Opera in Venice!" She argued. "It's too professional. You need sexy."

"What for?" You crossed your arms defensively. "I'm not exactly trying to seduce my colleagues."

You could have sworn she smirked as if she didn't believe you. Selecting a silk deep emerald green dress from the back of your wardrobe, she turned and grinned as she held it up to you.

Settling your crossed arms again, you gave her a disapproving look, but it was ruined a little by your fond smile. The dress was beautiful, and maybe since it was her idea...

"Give me that," you muttered through your sheepish smile, slipping behind a rattan divider to dispose of your setting-powder laden loungewear and slip into the silk dress. It hugged your waist and hips, the dainty straps elegantly crossing and meeting at the low back. The neckline was plunging to say the least, but the dress fit really well. As in, it didn't make you feel like you couldn't lean over the table to collect your winnings.

When you stepped out and saw yourself in the mirror, you spluttered a bit of a laugh at how much you were really looking like a Bond Girl. Right down to the poker appointment.

Maybe it was too much.

Not many people had seen you like this. Seen this much of you. You trusted your teammates with your life and you had no doubt they'd be respectful, but what if this was how they saw you now? As beautiful, rather than strong and skilled? What if you were reduced to a pretty face in a nice dress?

Spiralling and on the fence about ripping it off and going with the Opera Waitress dress, Wanda and Nat's wolf-whistles made you grin and dissuaded you from changing. They assured you that you looked incredible. Not just incredible, but deadly. That was acceptable. And, catching another glance at yourself, you kind of believed them. And, maybe, you could win.

You exited your room with the others, filled with fake-it-til-you-make-it confidence, ready to do whatever it takes to win that pot.

Tony never pulled punches. Not with his enemies, nor his stamina in the lab, nor, apparently, with turning the Compound living room into a damn private poker lounge. Did he own that table, or did he hire it in? Part of you wondered if there was a secret panel in the floor that it rose out of.

His usual team of caterers were offering canapés to some of the others as you entered the room, accepting a glass of champagne from a waiter by the door.

"This is ridiculous," you laughed to Natasha. "All this for one night? Just for us?"

"You're new, but not that new," she gave a sly grin and ducked her head to the side. "This shouldn't surprise you."

"But-"

"Ready to lose all your money, Stark?" She goaded as you two approached Tony.

"Oh no, he's not playing." Pepper was by his side in an instant, fixing his velvet bowtie with a curt and powerful smile.

"You almost lose a nuclear warhead in a game of five card draw, one time, fifteen years ago, and suddenly all poker is off the table," Tony scoffed in disbelief, as if you and Nat should be on his side on this one. Then, he shrugged. "Plus someone's gotta deal."

"Pepper, you look amazing," you beamed, gesturing to her sleek black and white dress.

"You're too sweet, and one to talk," she nodded to your dress then removed her phone from her purse. "Though I'm afraid this dress is for a dinner with an old friend. Natasha, I'm counting on you to not let him gamble my company away."

"Your compa-"

"You got it," Natasha responded with her cheeky smile and you all bid Pepper farewell. As you turned to squeeze her hand goodbye, your eye caught sight of the final two inhabitants of the Compound entering the room.

In the back of your mind, you'd always wondered how Loki would have dressed up for an event. Thor, at the galas and parties, always seemed to have just dressed like himself. In the same things he fought in. Surely there was Asgardian formal wear, perhaps he never saw the need. If he never saw the need, then possibly Loki didn't either. Boy, were you wrong.

Loki... Gods, Loki.

If looks could kill, Loki in an all-black suit and tie would have won the battle for New York all those years ago; he'd be your King. His inky black hair was pulled back in a low bun, a few wisps of shorter curls hanging by his cheekbones.

There'd been this thing... this unspoken, indescribable thing between you two for the last couple of months. It was hard to say for sure, but it may have begun with his curiosity at not just your lack of fear towards him, but your willing kindness. His curiosity became your curiosity, then your curiosity became his attraction, then your desire, then so on and so forth you created and traded unspoken feelings to the point where you might just burst. Those feelings came out in flirtatious banter and small good-natured jabs, as was to be expected from two people in your position. But he was extraordinary, and he just walked in here looking like that.

Before he could notice you looking you turned back to Natasha and sipped your champagne, suddenly a lot more aware of how you were dressed, and tried to prepare yourself for a night of trying to not stare at the sheer beauty him. She looked at you for a second before her eyes flitted to Loki and Thor approaching behind you.

"Hey, fellas," she smirked seductively. It was so easy for her.

"Ah, Natasha. Looking ravishing and dangerous as always," Thor beamed politely. You took a step to stand beside Nat and then turned to face the demigods, smiling casually as they politely declined a glass of champagne. Thor's eyebrows lifted. "My dear maiden, I did not recognise you," he laughed. "You look exquisite."

You smiled sweetly and cheers'ed your thanks with your champagne, intentionally only looking at Thor and then back to your half-empty glass. You'd need several more of these.

"Any Asgardian relics on the table tonight?" You asked, then finally dared to look at Loki. His gaze was intense, but it didn't leave your face. His lips were slightly parted, his head tilted to the side at your question.

Loki's eyes narrowed. "I was not aware we were to wager more than Midgardian currency."

"Who knows what's on the table?" Nat did her half-shrug as she smiled coyly. You felt a small blush come to your cheeks at where your mind went when she said that, and very consciously did not lick your lips nervously. The lipstick should at least last a few rounds.

Tony called for everyone to find their seats, settle in, get comfortable, order a drink with the staff on the way. You smiled at Thor and Loki, being sure to make it clear you were smiling at Thor and Loki, and said, "Shall we?"

You spun and fiddled a little with the glass in your hands, keenly aware of how the cool air was hitting the middle of your back, reminding you your dress was backless. Shaking it off, you also reminded yourself you were here to win a shit tonne of cash.

The table was a long rectangular oval, dark-wood painted with hints of gold. The tabletop felt was a deep crimson. Actually, a shade that was alarmingly similar to Tony's first suit. He must own this table.

Finding your seat, you smiled to see you were seated between Sam and Bucky. Okay, maybe this would be a fun evening. Sam knew how to make you laugh better than almost anyone, and his bickering with Bucky was some of your favourite at-home and on-mission entertainment. Sam pulled out your seat for you as you approached.

"Ever the gentleman, Wilson," you grinned your thanks and took your place, shifted as close to the table as you'd like to be and ordered a cocktail with the waiter standing partially behind you. When you finally turned to face the table, your heart skipped a beat when you immediately met Loki's eyes. He was sitting directly opposite you.

You smiled a little mischievously, in a friendly way, and teased him a little by narrowing your eyes. "Perfect. Now I can read you better than anyone else."

He laughed a little, but it was more like a scoff. Nothing more than a bit of air escaping his nose. Then, he smirked. "And I you, Agent." Without breaking eye contact, he raised his glass of hard liquor and took a sip.

With that, you knew tonight wouldn't be a relaxing, kick-back time with your team. You couldn't let your guard down, it was time to go undercover. Your alias: someone unreadable, someone great at poker, someone fearless and maybe a little reckless.

It was time to win.

Texas hold 'em was the game of the night. No one here really knew that you were good at poker and, if nights like this were any indication, it was best to keep that under wraps.

When Sam whined that Vision's computer brain could too easily count the cards, you bit your tongue and refrained from explaining to him that you couldn't really count cards in Poker. Not in a way that mattered much, anyways. You let Bruce tell him that. Of course Bruce knew that. Keep an eye on him. He sat two seats to Loki's left, Nat in between the two of them.

When Steve asked where "Queens" was (his sometimes nickname for Peter) and Tony explained Pepper wouldn't let him allow a child to gamble in the house, you again bit your tongue and refrained from explaining that Texas hold' em wasn't, technically or legally, gambling; the term gambling was specific to games of chance, but Texas hold' em was a game of skill. That's fine, though. Let them think it's luck.

Ultimately, it was always best, in matter of games where bluffs were called, to be either underestimated or unthought. Perhaps you should have gone with the Opera Waitress dress - blended in a little more.

When Tony explained the rules as a refresher, you listened quietly and didn't try to bluff nod at the right time as if you'd forgotten the how to play. You were keenly aware that Loki was often stealing glances at you to gauge your reaction when others asked clarifying questions, or answered one of Wanda's questions.

Once, when you felt his eyes on you, you intentionally looked at him and smirked a little to let him know you could feel his gaze. He didn't react.

Oh, he was good. This would be fun.

Tony began dealing.

Your winning strategy had always been one of early well-placed sacrifices. Never having had the benefit of someone explaining your tells to you, you always assumed your opponents could read you like a book. They'd watch to pick up patterns, so you'd disrupt them.

You had an average hand one round? Raise.

An even better hand the next round? Call. Maybe even fold.

For example, if you picked up two aces you knew your face would involuntarily, almost imperceptibly, flash with excitement. So maybe you'd fold that hand before you even bet a single dollar past the ante.

Because: if you looked happy with your hand but then folded, maybe they would think that look didn't mean what they thought it meant. Keep them guessing, make them almost think they have your tells pinned down. When, in fact, they really don't.

The first step? Physically hold your cards close to your chest, like an amateur. You picked up your first two cards of the night and did just that.

Eight of clubs and nine of spades. Workable.

Shooting a glance at Loki, you saw him peek at his cards but keep them face-down on the table. A smile tugged at your lips. He'd played before.

"Ante up, hotshots," Tony called as he dealt the five community cards face-down in front of him. You grabbed a ten dollar chip from your pile and tossed it to the centre of the table like everyone else.

The chips were real money. Ten thousand dollars for each person to play with, courtesy of Tony Stark, with the understanding that half of each person's takings would go to a charity of the winner's choice. Even then, you doubted a single person in this room wouldn't donate everything they had in the end. Including Thor and Loki, who probably didn't fully grasp the concept of charities for there was no poverty on Asgard, but had no need for Midgardian currency.

Tony flipped the first three cards: eight of diamonds, seven of clubs, jack of diamonds.

You now had a pair of eights. Not great, but if one of those unturned cards was a ten of anything, you'd have a straight. A straight was okay, but not amazing. So, after Sam called the current bet, you also called.

As a general rule, you never raised before the fourth card was turned. That wasn't necessarily a strategy, it was just to have something for people to notice. Perhaps if they spent time wondering why you never raised in the first round, they'd forget to watch for your tells.

On your left, Bucky also called. So did everyone around the table. Tony flipped the next card. Two of spades. You felt Loki looking at you so you winked at your cards and then flicked your eyes up to catch his. He narrowed his eyes at you ever so slightly and a small smirk twitched at the corner of his mouth, but never came to fruition.

Bruce and Vision both raised, Sam folded saying he had "Nada," you called, Bucky called, Steve folded, Thor called but you got the feeling he only did that because you and Bucky did. Loki raised, but double what Vision had. Nat called. Clint folded. Tony flipped the fifth card.

Ah, the ten of spades. You had a straight. You immediately calculated the odds in your head of what people could possible have to beat you.

The distribution of suits and numbers immediately told you it was very unlikely anyone could top your straight. A flush wasn't possible, nor was a full house, definitely not a straight flush or a royal flush, or even a four of a kind.

It wasn't too improbable to tie with someone else who also had a nine, but the only thing that could beat you was if someone had a higher straight. They'd need a nine and a queen and the odds were slim of that happening. This game was in your favour.

In the two or three seconds it took you to know all of this, you once again felt Loki's eyes on you as he watched you calculate that you'd probably won this hand. So, when it came back to you, you folded.

He watched you curiously as you sat back a sipped your drink. By the time the betting went around, it was down to Bucky and Loki. They bet conservatively, neither putting in more than a hundred. It was still the first round, after all.

When Bucky flipped his cards you saw he had a seven and a jack, meaning he had two pair. Loki flipped his and you saw he had the remaining two jacks, meaning he had three of a kind. Loki won the hand, but he wouldn't have beaten your straight.

He keenly watched you react to the reveal of his cards and you finally got the smallest bit frustrated, and a little flustered. Would he be really be watching all night? There were other people around this table, why did he have to only be looking at you?

You slid your cards back to Tony and got the idea that Loki would have given you his winnings from that round just to see what you'd had in your hand. He eyed the cards and clenched his jaw ever so lightly as they slid out of his eyesight and back into the deck. Schrodinger's Win. He'd never know if you could have actually beaten him.

As the night went on you continued with your strategy, making sure to bluff at random. After a particularly good hand where you’d wrangled a high flush, beating Clint’s, you finally heard Bruce comment that you were good at this. Sam commented that your pile of chips was growing bigger, Thor commented that he needed another drink. He had maybe ten chips left.

“Hmm, she’s also stopped pretending to be an amateur,” Loki mused without looking at you. Everyone looked at him. His pile had also been growing, rivalling yours. He looked around tauntingly and briefly chuckled. “I can’t be the only one who noticed she’s now keeping her cards on the table.”

“I never said I was an amateur,” you shot back. “Not my fault if you underestimated me.”

Loki scoffed and laughed a little, finally meeting your eye. “I’d never do such a foolish thing.”

The table was a little quiet as you two engaged in a stare-down. Had his eyes always been that strikingly blue, and you were just noticing now that his hair didn’t cast shadow on his face? After perhaps too many seconds Tony piped up.

“Break time,” he rubbed his hands together and stood. “Refresh yourselves, get another drink, back at the table in ten.”

You stood immediately, Sam kindly pulling out your chair to enable you to not have to awkwardly shuffle around it. Immediately caught in a verbal spar between him and Bucky, you giggled at their flying jabs and walked with them over to the bar.

Standing on the outskirts of the conversation, you felt a hand on your shoulder and turned to see Nat smirking at you.

“What?”

”You mind not undressing Loki with your eyes at the table? He did try to kill me once, you know.” She sipped her Bloody Mary as you narrowed your eyes at her.

“Uh-huh,“ you responded slowly. “And you chose a slinky silk green dress for me because…?”

Her smirk turned into a cheeky smile. “Guilty.“ Her eyes flitted up to peer behind you. “Five o’clock.” Then, she left.

Her spot was immediately taken by Loki. He leaned against the bar and rested his new drink on a coaster.

“When did you learn how to play poker? I’m assuming not on Asgard.”

He hummed thoughtfully. “On Midgard’s calendar? Around 1940. Just before the Captain’s first war.”

“Hey that was my first war too,” Bucky was at your side in an instant and you noticed something dark flash across Loki’s eyes. Your gaze didn’t leave Loki, and that seemed to make him a little less tense. “Dubai,” Bucky laughed. Then, you turned to look at him. “This is the dress you wore in Dubai.”

“It is,” you laughed shyly, outwardly cringing a little as you remembered that night.

”What, pray tell, happened in Dubai?” Loki’s low voice, now dripping with poorly concealed tension, prompted you to look back towards him.

”I’m impressed you hid two guns under there,” Bucky grinned, you also grinned and looked at your drink. It was a good-natured compliment. Bucky had never been flirty or sleazy with you before, and you didn’t expect him to start now. “I need a drink.”

As he walked away you looked back up at Loki and saw his jaw tense as he watched Bucky’s retreating form. “You okay?”

”Do you think you’ll win tonight?” He ignored your actual question and hit you with his piercing gaze. Then again, you’d ignored his about Dubai. You shrugged.

“Depends on the cards.”

He stood up a little straighter. “Do you think you can best me?”

”Depends on the cards,” you repeated.

“What happened in Dubai?”

”That’s classified.”

He allowed himself to smile at you. Your heart beat a little at the ways the creases beside his lips so effortlessly curled into his cheeks. Then, he smirked. “If I end this evening ahead of you, you'll tell me?”

You raised your eyebrows. “A side bet?” He shrugged with one shoulder and took a sip of his drink. “What’s in it for me?”

He lowered his drink and took note of how others started filtering back to the table. He motioned for you two to walk back to the table together, but you noticed he didn't put his hand on your lower back to lead you even though you kind of wished he had. Just before you split off, he leaned in closer to speak quietly in your ear.

“If you come out ahead, I’ll tell you how I know when you’re bluffing.”

Your eyes snapped to him and he smirked at your off-guard reaction. How could he know that already? You’d given him nothing. He must be the one bluffing. Before you could deal or no deal, he left you where you stood to take his seat.

After that, probably as he hoped, your game got a little more aggressive. You had to know if you had a tell. You had to.

As the game continued several people dropped off. Some retired with some winnings, others ran out of money. Either way, they all stayed to watch the show.

”Fold,” Nat sighed as she put her cards down. “And that’s me for the night.” She sipped her new drink and leaned back in the seat. You finished the round with Bruce, Bucky and Loki - the four of you were all that remained.

You folded, having exactly nothing in your hand. Bucky raised, so did Loki, Bruce called. They continued upping the bet ever so slightly, then the last card was flipped. Loki folded. Bruce upped the bet, Bucky called. They flipped their cards. Bruce won.

“I’m done,” Bucky sighed and turned to order another drink. Sam reached across your back to slap his shoulder and make some kind of comment. Bruce looked thoughtful for a few seconds and then at your pile, and at Loki’s pile. You and Loki had far more to be than he did.

“I’m out too.”

There were cries of outrage as he retired but he shook his head, refusing to continue and pointing to the two people so obviously so far ahead.

“Alright, you two. Last hand, final show down,” Tony smirked as he shuffled the cards.

“Feel free to also retire,” you smiled sweetly, tauntingly. There were a few chuckles around the table. Loki narrowed his eyes but didn’t respond. He simply played with the rim of his empty glass and watched your body language.

The others around the table watched with bated breath as Tony dealt your cards, then placed the five community cards face-down. You took a peak at your cards, careful to not let Sam or Bucky see them, lest they give it away with their reactions.

You took the smallest corner of your inner lip between your teeth to stop yourself from grinning.

Ace of spades, king of spades.

When Tony flipped the first three cards you could have kissed him.

King of clubs, ten of spades, jack of spades.

By gods, you were so close to a Royal Flush. Nothing beats a Royal Flush. So, for the first time that night, you raised the bet before the fourth card had been turned.

The intake of breath around the table told you that the others had noticed you didn't usually do that. Loki watched you curiously for a minute, his eyes finally leaving your face to trail down your arm and watch how your hands were folded on the edge of the table. You twitched your thumb, intentionally, so he'd think it meant something. He smirked and shook his head ever so slightly; you didn't have him fooled.

"Call." He reached forward and matched your bet.

Tony flipped the fourth card. king of hearts. You needed the queen of spades, but this wasn't bad.

"Those are some big cards," you heard Bruce whisper, face in his hands.

"Five hundred." You threw two chips to the middle and looked up at Loki. This time, he didn't look at you. He looked at his own cards, then at the upturned cards on the table, then at his chips.

"Call."

Tony flipped the last card. It was bittersweet. The Ace of Clubs.

You didn't have a royal flush, but you had an unbeatable full house - three kings, two aces. There wasn't anything Loki have that would beat you.

"Two thousand," you sighed, throwing the chips to the centre. Loki laughed. He actually laughed.

"See two, raise two." He threw in four thousand. Your heart started pounding, the blood rushed in your ears and cheeks, but it didn't matter.

"All in."

His eyes snapped up to meet yours and you felt your chest heave. Not just from the anticipation of the game, but from the look he gave you. It was proud, hungry, skeptical, powerful, sharp, all those things at once - just as he was. It was honest. You could see, through his honestly, that he was surprised.

"All in," he agreed. You both pushed your chips towards the middle of the table and you grinned as you sat back.

"Before we reveal, how about we make things a little more interesting?"

Some chuckles and "oohs" around the table told you that there wasn't a single person who wasn't paying the utmost attention. A crooked grin spread across Loki's face and he also sat back, letting his grin settle to a smirk as he nodded and gestured for you to continue.

"If I win... I get a dare. One dare to cash in whenever I like."

A mumbled chorus of snickers and whispers around the table filled you with confidence. Loki narrowed his eyes and stuck his tongue against the inside of his cheek, scoffing slightly and leaning back in his chair. He looked at his cards, then examined your gaze.

"And if I win," he began slowly. "I get a truth. To, as you say, cash in whenever I like."

"Deal," you agreed instantly. Then jabbed, "I quite like that you feel you need to win truth from me, Loki. Aren't you supposed to be excellent at reading people?"

Loki didn't react one bit as the others around him did. Telling you your cards better be good, telling you that you were a smack-talker, telling you they hoped you won. Your eyes didn't leave Loki as you turned your cards first.

He looked down and chuckled a little, but it wasn't a victorious one. He brought one hand to rub both temples and sucked his cheek, which everyone took as a sign that he'd lost.

But he hadn't. Loki flipped his cards.

Ace of hearts, king of diamonds. You had tied.

"SPLIT POT!" Tony clapped as everyone reacted. "Thank Odin or whoever that we're not having a super brawl here tonight."

You felt Sam and Bucky grab your shoulders in the sheer excitement of the game as those around you immediately began discussing the match, their strategy, the game play, how intense that last round was. But you didn't. You just stood up and held your hand out to Loki.

"Good game."

He stood as well and took your hand in his, "Yes. What happened in Dubai?"

You looked around, no one was listening but Nat was stealing glances.

"We both won," you nodded, then shook your head. "But you didn't beat me. That was the deal. Would you like to use your truth?"

He scoffed a little and shrugged, "I'll consider it an option. There are so many dark and wonderful things to know, aren't there?"

Your throat tightened a little at that, then you realised your hand was still in his. He noticed too, and placed his other on top of it before squeezing and releasing you from his hold.

"Good game, Agent."

The following morning Loki walked into the kitchen as you sat browsing on a tablet.

"What do you think of this?" You immediately asked, pushing it over for him to see a webpage you were looking at. "We need to pick a charity for our winnings. This one helps LGBTQ youth who've been kicked out of their homes."

"What?!" Loki's head snapped up from where he was reading, his voice still hoarse from the morning, then he rolled his eyes and grumbled. "Are you lot still not over this? Kicked out of their homes. Honestly, it's a sheer wonder Midgard is not still in the stone ages with how you treat each other."

There was flame behind Loki's voice that stoked a peace in you. He was genuinely confounded that a parent couldn't love their child simply because of who they loved. He'd killed people in his past, lots of people, but this was unacceptable to him.

"Of course, give the whole lot," Loki mumbled, pulling a mug from the cupboard and filling it with black coffee.

You smiled, a little sadly at the thought of these kids, and sent the webpage to Tony. "My thoughts exactly."

"Have you settled on your little dare?" He turned back and took a sip. You grinned and raised your eyebrows.

"Not yet, patience please," you chuckled. "How about your truth?"

"Hmm," he hummed in a low growl, then left the room.

You scoffed. "Bye, then!"

Over the following week, you had a little too much fun holding it over his head. Ultimately, a truth wasn't as bad as a dare. Besides, if he really knew your tell he could ask you whatever he wanted anyways and gauge your reaction. You definitely got the better win.

"Careful, Loki," you playfully warned as he swiped for the last biscuit in your hand. "With moves like that you'll be dared to run through Central Park in nothing but your golden horns."

He narrowed his eyes and Thor bellowed a loud laugh, drawing further laughter from those around. Loki looked unfazed.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" He smirked back, bringing a faint blush to your cheeks. That also got Thor laughing.

Another time, and perhaps this was the time that crossed a line, is when he made a very quick playful quip at you in front of Tony. Iron Man laughed hard at your expense and you sucked your teeth.

"How would you like to be dared to kneel to Tony?"

Loki's eyes went dark, Tony spluttered more laughter. Had he won the lottery or something?

Loki never gave any indication of what he was going to ask you, but you could tell his patience was wearing thin after you'd foolishly threatened to make him kneel before a mortal. So, the next Saturday morning, he found you in the kitchen right after you'd woken up.

You felt Loki's presence behind the door of fridge. He was probably hoping to startle you when you closed it to see him standing there all tall and intimidating.

"Hey Loki," you said while still looking for the milk. "Ah," you pulled it from the shelf and closed the door. "What's up?"

"I'm cashing in," he smirked.

"Cashing in your truth?" You smirked back. He nodded.

"For what I'm about to ask, I'm guessing you'd like to be out of earshot of any lingering teammates," he whispered loudly, teasingly. You'd be a liar if you said your stomach didn't drop a little bit. He took note of how it wiped the smirk off your face and it was almost like he stole it, because his only grew wider and more self-satisfied. You rolled your eyes and put the milk back in the fridge, telling yourself you'd make the coffee later.

"Come with me," you exited and he followed you as you led him to your room. You always kept it tidy because it made you feel better to have things in their place, to have everything around you ordered and clean. It was your little sanctuary and you'd be damned if you weren't proud of how safe and comfortable you managed to let yourself feel in there. Inviting Loki in was a gamble, but if he was about to ask you something deeply personal you at least wanted a home field advantage.

Shutting the door after him, you met him where he was standing in the middle of your room. It was still early, but the bed was made. He looked around curiously as you crossed your arms.

"Shoot," you tilted your chin up but didn't quite meet his eye.

"Are you nervous?" He asked with a tilt of his head.

You raised your eyebrows and met his eye. "Is that your question?"

"No," he stood up a little straighter. It was one of those times when you realised how tall he was. "I find myself stuck at an impasse."

"How so?"

"This power you have over me. This... this dare," he narrowed his eyes as you smiled a little cheekily. "I think it's time you also choose your reward."

"Can't handle a little anticipation?"

"You'd be wise not to antagonise me, darling. I assure you there are several ways this conversation can go," he let a bit more gravel into his voice and a mischievous smirk grace his lips. "Only a few of those ways end pleasantly for you."

"Are you threatening me?"

He tilted his head with the faintest shrug, allowing you to create the inferences in your mind.

You scoffed. "You know, I kinda like seeing you like this, Loki," you taunted a little darkly. "It's not often that people have something over you. You think I'm just going to give that away? No. Thank you. I'll take all the time I need to figure out what I'm going to make you do."

He took a step closer but you stood resolute, even if his proximity did make your heart pound against your ribcage. "Would you really have me force your hand?" He narrowed his eyes.

"Force my hand?" You scoffed, confidence surging at seeing the Trickster on the back foot. "You've got nothing on me."

"Not yet," Loki smiled a little, and the gleam in his eye kind of scared you. "Though, I think I'll use that truth now."

In an instant, he grabbed you by your upper arms and swept your ankles from their place on the floor. You gasped and uncrossed your arms to brace on his, out of instinct, to stop from falling. In a graceful motion he pushed you sideways, released your arms and grabbed your wrists, following you down as you landed on your bed.

"W-what the hell?!" You called through gritted teeth as you attempted to fight Loki off.

You were a good fighter, good in close-combat, but he'd caught you so off guard. It was morning, you were safe at home and in your room, you hadn't had coffee yet. Hell, you were even still in your pyjama shorts and t-shirt. Usually you were ready for anything, but it was the perfect storm for him to get the upper hand and use his brute strength to wrestle you down onto your back. He straddled your hips and stuck your wrists under his knees before retracting his hands and letting them sit at his sides, smirking victoriously down at you.

Looking up at him, very confused, you didn't bother to fight anymore because, A: it was useless, and B: you had no idea what he was playing at.

"You had to incapacitate me to ask a question?"

A devious grin slowly spread onto Loki's face before he jokingly tried to suppress it. "Truth..." he began, then narrowed his eyes at you. "Where are you most ticklish?"

"F-Fu..." The almost-curse left your mouth and your eyes widened before you could stop yourself. Your stomach dropped a bit and you swallowed hard, giving an experimental tug on your wrists only to find they felt like they'd been set in concrete.

"Oh my," Loki let himself grin. "That's quite a worried look you're wearing."

"Loki, y-you can't be serious," you winced as you pulled on your wrists again. Loki chuckled a little and shrugged.

"With all the cheek you've given me over this little game, I'm surprised you didn't consider I'd retaliate. I rather think you deserve to be tickled to tears," he teased. Your face burned. "Unless, of course, you'd like to dare me not to."

Your jaw dropped a little. "Seriously?!" You growled and tugged once again, then tried to buck your hips a little, but you really couldn't move the middle of your body that much at all.

"Answer the question," he ordered. "I won it fair and square."

"I won my dare too, but you have no problem stealing it from me." You seethed.

"Oh no," Loki shook his head with a look of fake pity. "I assure you, you’ll be giving that up quite willingly once you're a little pool of laughs beneath me. Now, answer the question."

With one final blazing glare you let your head fall back against the mattress and you mumbled in defeat, "It's been a while. Let me think."

Loki chuckled a bit more as you wracked your brain. It was kind of over now, even if you dared him to stop for now you would still have to tell him and he'd certainly never forget it. Now, where was it again? It really had been a while... Had it been your feet? No, definitely not- but... wait? Underarms? No. Your brow furrowed in confusion and you looked to the side in thought. Loki shifted impatiently. "I'm seriously still thinking," you scoffed a little and rolled your eyes. "I-I don't..." A victorious grin spread across your face as you looked back up to him.

He looked at you intently, "What's the answer?"

"I don't know. Sorry, thats the truth that you won fair and square." You shrugged a little. He laughed at loud at that and you furrowed your brow again. "What, you don't believe me?"

"Oh, I know you're telling the truth," he chuckled. "It's simply adorable how you think that's a good thing for you."

You shrivelled in on yourself as you felt his hands come up to gently rest on your sides. "B-but, I-"

"Let me assist you in filling this gap in your knowledge, hmm?"

He smirked and, at once, scratched and wiggled all ten fingers straight onto the middle of your belly. You squeaked. Actually squeaked from the contact.

"LOHIKI!" You shrieked through the giggles that poured from your lips. Your feet kicked helplessly behind his back, still desperately trying to gain traction to maybe buck your hips enough to throw him off his rhythm. "No no no noho, NO!" You embarrassingly squeaked again when his fingers pressed in harder, one finding its way into your navel through your shirt. "GOHOD!"

Broken thoughts flew through your mind as you tried in vain to struggle against him, laughter kicking up a notch as he hunted down the ticklish places on your belly, seemingly trying to surmount if there was some spot or technique in his current targeted area that would make you break. When you truly realised he would be methodical and relentless, it made your cheeks flush even harder than they were from all the laughter.

Loki watched your reactions as he settled for scratching maddeningly through your shirt at the skin just below your ribs, smirking when he heard your giggles become higher-pitched and interlaced with little shrieks.

"Plehehease!" You whimpered and squirmed underneath him.

"Dare me to stop," he responded.

"NOHO!" You struggled again, harder, not wanting to release the tiny bit of power you had over him.

Dissatisfied by your lack of screams, Loki roughly grabbed your hips and drove his thumbs into the bones, pinching at a fast and steady pace. This time, you actually gave a tiny scream before loud laughter ripped through your throat. Your shoulders and knees lifted from the bed as your body tried to curl in on itself in self-preservation but, of course, he was in the way. Your eyes shut tight as you laughed loudly and helplessly.

“PL-PLEHE- PL-“ You pleas dissolved with every new squeeze of his fingers. When he note took and advantage of the slight sliver of skin showing from your disheveled shirt and swiped his fingers along it, you squealed loudly and fell back onto the bed, feet flailing desperately behind his back.

"Oh, mortal... how helpless you must feel," he chuckled darkly and picked up the pace of his fingers, allowing them to crawl only a little higher under the hem of your shirt. He watched keenly for any sign of discomfort past the obvious breathlessness of being tickled to pieces, making sure you were squirming because of the tickling, and not because his hands were on you. He paused for a second to be sure.

"Yohou're the wohohorst," you whined. He grinned at your involuntary smile and your groans of frustration. "I'm gonnaha get you s-so BAD with this dare," you shot your head up to glare at him menacingly, but playfully.

He grinned. You were egging him on. Something in him was always aware that you never minded when he got particularly close, but this... this was undeniable. He'd certainly tease you about it at the right moment, but for now- "SHIHIT!" His fingers kicked back into gear, fluttering and scratching at the skin just under and beside your belly button.

"Think about this, Agent," Loki called to you over your manic giggles, slowing just enough to allow you to listen to him. "We can continue with this until you break, at which point I'll have filed away all your little weak points for future use-"

"-Fuhuture whaHAT?!"

"Or you can dare me to stop now, perhaps save yourself a little trouble," with that, he started pinching at your sides. His thumb pulsed into the front of your torso as he slowly worked his way up. "Are you truly willing to allow me to discover how to take you apart?"

Just wear that damn suit again, just look at me a certain way, say my name in that dark velvet voice of yours. Gods, Loki, I'm already at your mercy. Of course, even if you weren't giggling so hard that you couldn't talk, you could never say that out loud.

He stopped just below your ribs and raised his eyebrows, giving you a chance to respond before he began a new attack.

"Y-you... you say thahat as if you wouldn't just do this again whenever you feheel like it," you panted out, the occasional hiccough peeping through.

He winked, "Try not to sound so excited, love." You glared at him but, curse his piercing blue eyes and that killer smirk, you blushed a little and bit your lip.

"Believe me, excited isn't the right word," you scoffed.

He leaned in a little closer and scanned your eyes, narrowing his own, then his smirk grew. "You're bluffing." A sudden ten-fingered digging attack into your ribcage made you scream out.

"N-NO! NO NO-AHA, NOHOHO!" You screeched as his fingers wormed their way into the spaces between your ribs, sliding down the sides to target the spaces closer to the back. You struggled much harder than before and thrashed as much as you could underneath him.

"Oh dear, have we found it?" Loki taunted, picking up the pace of his fingers. Your babbling incoherent cries for mercy came out in mixtures of high-pitched squeal-like please's and oh my god's, as he focused on finding the spaces that made your laughter kick up even harder. "You know how to make this stop!" He called in a sing-song voice.

From pure desperation, you managed to slide yourself a bit further underneath him and bring your legs up and hook your ankles around his neck, pushing down as hard as you could. The force of it caused him to choke and cough a little and be pushed backwards. Not enough to throw him off of you, but enough for him to bring his hands away from your ribs to remove your ankles from his neck.

You panted heavily, whimpering a little as your head rolled to the side. "I-hi don't wannaha waste it," you whined as he pried your ankles from his neck and shifted back to be sitting more on your upper thighs so you couldn't pull the same move again.

"Impressive," Loki coughed a little again and rubbed his throat gingerly. "You're quite the tenacious little fox, aren't you?" He reached behind himself and grabbed at the muscles above your knees, squeezing wildly. You squeaked out again and giggled, shaking your head when you tried to move your legs to find out his new sitting place rendered them nearly immobile.

"I cahan't tahahake this," you whimpered through your giggles, jolting a bit when he started squeezing harder and faster.

"Dare me, love. It's the only way out," he growled, you whined again. He sat up with an amused grin plastered on his face, then took your hands from under his knees and began bringing them above your head. Panic struck when you remembered how extraordinarily ticklish you'd been with his fingers on your ribs and you started fighting him harder.

"N-no, Loki," you looked up pleadingly. "Let me keep it, lehet me KEEP IT!" You squeaked as your futile attempts to free yourself failed and he secured your hands above your head with one of his own. Struggling beneath him, you were suddenly overcome with how large his form was over you. He had you completely at his mercy, but... you weren't afraid. You trusted him, despite the way he was undoing you with his touch.

You took a deep breath in and took the inside of your lower lip between your teeth as you looked up at him hovering over you. The breath you released was jagged, shaky, but you'd stopping struggling all that much. His gaze moved from your wrists to your crystal stare and you were delighted to see that he seemed to flinch too.

He narrowed his eyes and you saw his tongue briefly slip out to wet his lips. You saw his eyes flit to your mouth, but only for a millisecond. He opened his mouth to say something, then seemed to change his mind about what he was going to say. You felt his hand shift up your side and you bit back a nervous giggle when you felt his fingers poise themselves at your ribcage.

"Would you like to use that dare now?" His voice was low and dangerous, the slightest of unsureness betrayed his resolve.

It would have been so easy in that moment to just dare him to kiss you. That's probably what he wanted, what he was getting at, but you wouldn't do that. It was so glaringly obvious that you both craved this closeness, but that nagging voice in the back of your head said you'd never know for sure if he kissed you because he wanted to, or because of the cards you were dealt in a game of poker.

So, instead, you smiled coyly and shook your head. The haziness in his eyes went a little, replaced by a flash of excited mischief. Then, he smirked. Then, he tickled you senseless.

About the time his fingers found a deathly sensitive crevice between your topmost rib and the one below it is the time you screamed out, dissolved into silent laughter and finally tapped out. You begged him to stop, then dared him to stop, then begged again for him to stop even after he had. He released your wrists with a victorious grin and rolled off of you, lying on his back next to you as you caught your breath and wiped the tears of mirth from your cheeks.

"Well played," you mumbled and wiped your eyes tiredly. He pushed himself off the bed and offered you a hand up, which you took. Loki was strong, so the force of his help and your shaking legs from the attack kind of sent you barreling into his chest as you stood. You blushed and mumbled an apology as you stepped back and regained your foot.

"Oh dear," he squeezed the hand he was still holding, leaning down to catch your eye and tease, "Have I made you weak in the knees?"

"I'm tired." You rolled your eyes, grinned and shoved at his chest with both your hands. "Before you so rudely interrupted me to violate the Geneva Convention with such acts of torture, I was about to make a coffee."

"Allow me," Loki chuckled and walked with you to the kitchen, wordlessly, a little awkwardly. Your hands brushed once or twice as you walked but you tried not to think about it. He gestured for you to sit at the counter and got to work making coffee as you'd taught him months before.

Watching Loki work was fascinating. It was as it everything he did had a shimmer of elegance. From the way he measured the coffee, selected the mugs from the cupboard, cleaned the steaming wand with a grumble that someone had left it in a mess. He frothed the milk expertly and poured it over the espresso shot before turning and setting it down in front of you. He took his coffee black. Always. It made you smile to know that he'd only learned to froth the milk to do it for others. Though, he only ever seemed to do it for you.

You sipped it thoughtfully as he leaned against the other side of the counter on his elbows, ears perking and head turning when he heard some distant noise in the hallway. Probably someone heading to the gym for their morning workout.

Would you really not say anything? What did you say after that? Tease him, provoke him, ask if he was ticklish too, drop it completely? You sipped your coffee and dared to look at him, biting the inner corner of your lip as you took in the thick atmosphere tangible in the room.

"There it is," his voice lowered in husky satisfaction.

You furrowed your brow. "There what is?"

"It's your lower lip."

"Pardon?" You looked up at him.

"Your tell," he straightened and smiled fondly down at you. "You bite the inner corner when you're trying to conceal that you're looking at something that pleases you."

You laughed nervously and tried not to blush, ignoring that he very much called you out. "You figured that out over one game of poker?"

He smiled softly, but cheekily, and winked, "I figured that out long before poker."

You looked down at your coffee, feeling a little transparent, then you looked back up. "I have a question."

He gave you an indiscernible look and sipped his brew. "Hmm."

"If you hadn't sacrificed your truth to take my dare, what would you have asked me?"

Loki shifted, almost imperceptibly. Of course you noticed, and he knew you did. You raised an eyebrow ever so slightly. He shook his head and chuckled a little.

"That's not for you to know."

You opened your mouth to protest but quickly realised you didn't know how to counter that, so you closed it again and furrowed your brow. He smiled a little bit at your frustration.

"I'll play you for it," you half-joked. Loki's smile turned to a grin but he shook his head. "Or a trade?"

He scoffed, but it was good-natured. "I don't bargain with mortals."

"You did over poker."

"That was a game."

"This isn't?"

He shook his head. "Not quite."

Your heart raced and you bravely assumed he'd do it anyway. "Ask."

He took a deep breath in, even though he tried to make it look like he wasn't. Then, he swallowed and exuded confidence. "Where is the best place to eat breakfast in this city of yours?" You fought your smile as you watched him smirk a little bit. He knew he had you.

"A little French café on fifth."

"Hmm?"

"Hmm." You finally smiled shyly, trying to keep it from spreading into a grin. "I dare you to have breakfast with me."

"You haven’t a dare left, darling."

"Does that mean I'll have to ask properly?"

"Perhaps."

You finished your coffee and stood, walking over to the sink to take care of your mug. Loki's eyes stayed trained on where you had been seated as he finished his own coffee. Turning to leave, you stopped in the doorway and shot him a mischievous smile.

"I'm getting dressed, then I'm going to get breakfast at a little French café on fifth. You're welcome to join me."

Cheeky thing, he thought as you put the ball back in his court. He had half a mind to sweep you up in his arms and propose forgoing the meal all together. Though, he didn't.

He instead met you by the front door ten minutes later and walked, as before, wordlessly with you to the car. But this time when your hands touched, he reached out and weaved his fingers through yours. Then, he broke the silence.

"What happened in Dubai?"

You grinned and looked at the ground. It probably wasn't smart to refuse him now that he had a very effective way to make you talk. Part of you wanted to just so he'd have an excuse to wrap his arms around you later, but you thought that would be a little obvious. Then again, when weren't you obvious to him?

You squeezed his hand and tried to contain your grin as you let him in to all your secrets.

"So there was this Russian oligarch..."

#loki tickle #loki x reader tickle #loki tickle fluff #tickle fluff #tickle fic #loki x reader #ler!loki #lee!reader #marvel fluff #sorry this was so long and maybe boring ahhh #i got carried away #i hope you like it

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btsrunmylife · 2 years

Text

a plot-adjacent spin-off of “Call Me Naive”

This story is based on a side-pairing from the above story. You don’t necessarily have to have read CMN to understand this, but there are a few references you may not get if you haven’t.

summary: When Nabi first started at Bangtan Publishing, she was nervous. A new job, new faces, new rules to follow and a lot to learn. To her relief, people are much more welcoming than she expected, especially the cute Junior Editor (later turned Senior Editor), Kim Namjoon, who takes it upon himself to make sure she gets settled in properly. Over the years of her employment, he doesn’t stop there, always checking in, always making sure she feels included and welcome, and always being as sweet as possible. There’s just one question on everyone’s minds...will he ever actually admit to his crush of almost three years???

pairing: Namjoon x f!OC

rating: pg13

genre: romance, fluff, coworker au, f2l, idiots to lovers, mutual pining

word count: 8.5k~

Nabi shifts her tote bag higher up on her shoulder, hugging the welcome folder tighter to her chest as she scurries after the man in front of her. Lee DonWook, a man in his mid-forties and her department supervisor, glances back at her as he motions around in lackluster movements. His tone is flat and bored, his eyes dull, as if he wishes he could be anywhere else. He’s also walking much too fast for poor Nabi’s heel-clad feet to keep up with.

“Here we have the copier room,” he rattles off. “Each department has a password and a set budget for copying. Someone will get you set up with them. The machines can be a bit temperamental. Better to ask someone for help than to make a mess.”

He shoots her a look that tells her to ask anyone but him for help and hurries forward. Nabi hides a grimace behind her hand and continues after him.

She huffs a quiet sigh when they reach the breakroom, which finally brings DonWook to a pause. He greets a few of their coworkers and, with his attention elsewhere, Nabi scrunches her nose and adjusts the shoes on her feet. A blister is forming on the back of her heel, the skin raw to the touch, and she has to bite her lip to keep a pained hiss from slipping out. Her lack of stockings really was an oversight on her part. She’d meant to wear them, but had been so anxious about her first day on the job she’d forgotten.

“That looks painful.”

She gasps and straightens, bag colliding heavily with her hip as she spins around with wide eyes.

The man that had spoken offers a soft smile, a hint of amusement dancing in his brown irises as he glances over her. He ducks his head, adjusting the glasses on his nose, and lets out a quiet chuckle.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. I just–” He glances at one of the women across the room. “Jia-ssi, do you have any bandages in your purse?”

The woman looks up from her phone with a start, quickly nodding and digging around her bag.

At Nabi’s curious gaze, the man’s cheeks dimple in a wide smile and he leans in, as if about to tell her a secret.

“Jia has kids, her purse is pretty much an endless supply of first-aid and snacks.”

“I wouldn’t say it’s endless,” Jia smirks, passing him the bandage. She eyes Nabi. “You must be the new Legal Assistant.” At Nabi’s nod, she grins. “I’m Jia, I work in the Editorial Department with Namjoon.”

Namjoon offers a tight smile and a small bow as he hands her the bandage. “Welcome to the team.”

“Thanks,” Nabi offers a shy grin as she bows to both of them, setting her things down on a nearby table and taking a seat. “And thank you for the bandage.”

Namjoon’s grin widens as he watches her apply it to her heel, eyes flickering to DonWook. “And, uh, hey…if you ever have any questions about anything, we’re happy to help. We know DonWook-nim’s tours can be a little…”

“Quick,” Jia finishes with a laugh.

Nabi blows hair out of her face and laughs with a small shake of her head, gathering her things. “You can say that again.” She gets to her feet, relief washing over her at the added padding between her foot and the back of her shoe. She sighs gratefully and offers Namjoon a smile. “And thank you…again, sunbaenim…I might just take you up on that.”

His grin goes a little goofy, shoulders pushing back as he straightens his spine. “Cool. Yeah, anytime.”

“Park!”

Nabi’s eyes widen as she peers around them at DonWook, offering Namjoon and Jia an uncertain smile. “I guess I better get going.”

“Oh, yeah,” Namjoon nods and steps out of her way, allowing her through. “Uh, see you around!”

Nabi smiles at him over her shoulder, offering the two of them a little wave before scurrying out of the room.

Jia snorts once she’s gone, punching Namjoon on the arm. “Uh, see you around!”

He huffs and rolls his eyes. “Shut up.”

“Yah!” she yelps when he starts to walk away. “I’m still older than you! You better mind your manners!”

He shoots her a withering look over his shoulder, but turns around to hide his smile. “Sorry, noona.”

~*~*~

It’s a week into her employment when Nabi sees Namjoon next. This time, she’s been tasked with the arduous chore of making copies of this year’s Statement of Business Ethics, reminding everyone that they are the face of the company and that any information passed between departments regarding client projects is to remain confidential. There’s more drabble mixed into the pages, but it’s all common sense, in Nabi’s opinion, even though she knows it’s necessary.

What’s entirely unnecessary is how difficult it is to use the photocopiers.

Entering the password for the Legal Department is easy enough – she came up with a little mnemonic device to help her remember – but getting the machine to actually work is the problem. Not only does it keep beeping at her to put paper in the machine when there’s already paper in there, it also keeps jamming in various places and she keeps having to open and close doors just to get one page to print.

After the fourth time it jams, she growls and kicks at the bottom of the machine.

“Whoa, easy there.”

Nabi turns at the sound of his voice, pout pulling at her lips.

Namjoon can’t help but smile at the sight. “Copier giving you trouble?”

“Is it that obvious?” she sighs.

He chuckles, waving her off as he approaches. “Nah, not at all. Everyone goes around kicking things that are working perfectly fine.”

She narrows her eyes at him. “Are you going to make fun of me or help me?”

He quirks an eyebrow at her. “Are you going to ask for help or just assume I’ll come to your rescue?”

She purses her lips as they twitch, fighting off a smile. She laughs. “Fine! Can you please help me, Namjoon-nim?”

“Of course.” He shrugs as if it was an obvious answer and she refrains from rolling her eyes.

“So,” he begins, ignoring her look of mild annoyance and tapping his hands on the machine. “Let me guess. It keeps saying it needs paper and it keeps getting jammed?”

Nabi lets out a noncommittal hum. “I take it this is a regular occurrence?”

“Every day,” he sighs reluctantly. “Old Betsy has gotten us through some crazy times, but it’s about time for her to retire. Until that can happen, though…”

He motions for her to watch as he pushes a lever to the side and then opens a small compartment. He fiddles around a little, pointing as he goes. “This here is the waste container. Sometimes, when it gets a little too full, things can print a little wonky. Be on the lookout for that. The machine will tell you when it needs to be changed. These, here, are the drums. Don’t expose them to the light until we’re ready to change them. When we do, don’t expose the new ones to the light. For now, we’re just going to fiddle with these little sticks here.”

He pulls carefully at orange sticks below each drum, sliding it in and out of the slot a few times.

“These are self-cleaning, but sometimes they need a little help. This usually keeps things moving along…but…” He finishes with the last one and closes the compartment, locking it by turning the lever. He shrugs and gets to his feet. “If that doesn’t work, you could always try reseating the fuser.”

At the blank look she gives him, he cracks a smile.

“On second thought, if it gives you too much trouble, just come find me in the Editorial Department or shoot me an email.” He turns back to the machine, pressing the “okay” button and grinning wider when the machine slowly roars into motion. “Should be good now.”

Nabi smiles, relieved and visibly relaxing. “Thank you, Joon-nim! I think you just saved my life.”

He blushes at the nickname, faltering slightly when she edges closer to glance at the screen of the machine. He scratches at his neck and gives her space. “Ah, it was nothing. Someone would have come along eventually. I just happened to be the first to pass by.”

She glances at him. “Still. Thank you.”

He smiles. “Anytime.”

~*~*~

The next few weeks, and subsequent months, become a whirlwind. As a small company, they have high expectations for their employees, requiring everyone to learn quickly and adapt on their feet. Thankfully, Nabi had never had a problem with that, keeping her nose down and attention focused until she got the hang of something, asking questions whenever she needed clarification. For the most part, she understands her role and, before long, can keep up with everyone around her.

Being a part of different departments, Nabi’s interactions with Namjoon are limited to brief emails about the copiers or lunchroom conversations. She sees him occasionally in meetings or in passing, but mostly, they remain fairly separate. That is, until one day Namjoon emails her about something new.

From: Kim Namjoon ([email protected])

Hello Nabi-ssi!

I know you typically like to eat lunch at work, but a few of us are heading out to a small barbecue restaurant around the corner. Not sure if you’ve tried it yet, it’s called Linus, and they have some of the best pork on this side of the city.

Anyway, we’d love for you to join us if you’re interested! Let me know, okay? :)

Best, Kim Namjoon Junior Editor, Editorial Department

Nabi grins at the email, unable to stifle the happiness bubbling in her chest at being included. Of course, some of that feeling is influenced by the handsome editor who had welcomed her so openly to Bangtan, but she would never admit that.

Glancing toward her direct supervisor a couple feet away, she quickly shoots off an email, accepting the invite. She’s just clicking back into her shared document with her boss when another email comes through.

From: Kim Namjoon ([email protected])

Cool! I’ll meet you in the lobby around noon!

Best, Kim Namjoon Junior Editor, Editorial Department

Nabi tries to ignore the fluttering in her stomach, tucking her hair behind her ear as she settles back into work. He’s just being nice, she probably shouldn’t be getting so excited, but she can’t help it. It’s sweet of him to think of her, sweet of him to go out of his way to make her feel included.

She sighs, shaking her head at herself and the direction her thoughts are taking.

She still has an hour before she’s going to meet with them. She needs to focus.

Focusing becomes a lot easier when her supervisor decides to stand over her shoulder, as if somehow knowing the temptations of intra-office emails. She buckles down for the last forty-five minutes, taking her supervisor’s comments here and there. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t vault out of her chair the moment it turned noon though.

“Whoa!” her supervisor, a man by the name of Baek Hyunki, laughs. “Hungry today?”

Nabi ducks her head to hide the blush that blooms across her cheeks. “Ah, something like that, yeah.”

He lifts an eyebrow, but doesn’t bother to ask, motioning toward the door. “We’ll continue after lunch, hm?”

She nods, offers a polite bow, and swiftly exits.

On her way down to the lobby, she feels a flurry of nerves in her stomach. She hugs her sweater in her arms, wondering who will be joining them for lunch, and swallowing down more nerves when she enters the lobby to find Namjoon standing alone.

She approaches with a bow and a curious smile, glancing around. “Where’s everyone else?”

Namjoon turns to her with wide eyes, gaze moving down her frame briefly before he clears his throat and bows in return. “Oh, uh, they left – I mean, they’re meeting us there. It can get pretty busy during lunch, so they went to grab us a table.”

She nods slowly, both amused and endeared by his flustered state. It makes her feel marginally better about her own nerves and her smile softens. “Ah, okay. Are you…ready, then?”

His grin is a little too wide, a little too forced, and she swears she can see him sweating, but she finds herself even more endeared by it. “Yes! Yeah, let’s go!”

The walk to the restaurant is quiet, uncomfortably so. Namjoon still seems nervous, hands shoved haphazardly into his pockets and lips pulled into a troubled pout. Nabi sees him open and close his mouth a couple times, as if wanting to say something, but he never does.

And she doesn’t quite know what to say either.

So they walk in silence, the two of them bumping elbows a couple of times because neither of them are good at walking in a straight line and both of them are too clumsy to avoid the collision.

To say Nabi is a bit relieved when they reach the restaurant would be an understatement.

Namjoon’s claim that it’s busy at this time of day is also a bit of an understatement.

The place is mobbed, with people packed into tables from one end of the room to the other and people lining the walls to wait for one to open up. They get a few looks when Namjoon spots his friends and they start to make their way inside, Namjoon’s hand lightly touching her elbow to guide her.

The people they’re greeted by are at least familiar to Nabi, if not by name then by face. She recognizes one of them, having worked alongside her once or twice to prepare a legal document for a client. The other, the classically handsome one, she only knows because you can’t work at Bangtan and not know him. Somewhat of an office clown, Nabi doesn’t know his name, but knows his reputation well enough.

He’s a flirt, he’s always cracking jokes that he laughs far too loudly at, and he knows absolutely everyone.

And almost all of the women Nabi has talked to want to date him.

Not surprising, really, when met with his charming, handsome grin.

“Namjoon-ah!” he greets, voice loud even over the volume of conversation in the restaurant. “You made it!” His eyes flick to Nabi and he gives a little head bow. “Hello, Nabi-ssi!”

Nabi bows a little belatedly, glancing between Namjoon’s friends uncertainly. “Hello.”

Namjoon ushers her into an open seat, taking the seat next to her. “Nabi, this is Seokjin-ssi and that over there is our chaotic friend we like to call Mayhem.”

The woman, dubbed Mayhem, rolls her eyes. “Namjoon is just jealous I’m cooler than he is. But thankfully you already know that since we’ve already met.”

Nabi smiles, visibly relaxing at the easy banter. “That’s right!” Nabi bites back a laugh at Namjoon’s disappointed slouch. “How are things going in the acquisitions department?”

“Crazy as ever!” the woman huffs before launching into a tirade that has both men rolling their eyes, although Nabi does catch the overwhelmingly fond look Seokjin gives Mayhem when she’s not looking.

And it’s easy, sitting with them like that, picking at the food they order for the table and smiling in thanks at the drinks Namjoon keeps pouring for everyone. They each have one shot of soju, which she keeps half-full to prevent anyone from refilling it, and then they stick to water or cola.

And Seokjin fully lives up to his reputation, telling awful jokes that leave Namjoon groaning and Mayhem bursting into a fit of giggles…which always results in Namjoon groaning again. The whole thing brings an amused smile to Nabi’s face that Namjoon immediately notices and tries to shut down.

“Oh no, don’t you encourage him too,” he begs her, shooting her a pleasing look that makes her chuckle.

Seokjin scoffs, slamming a hand down on the table. “Yah! I’m still your hyung! Respect me and my jokes!”

“I respect you, hyung,” Namjoon grumbles. “But I don’t think I could ever respect your jokes.”

Seokjin puts a hand over his heart as if this mortally wounds him, pouting and wiping a fake tear from his eye. Mayhem is quick to pat his shoulder, which Seokjin leans into. “Whatever will I do without Joonie’s respect, May?”

“Live a very sad, humorless life,” Mayhem laments with a sad nod. “Just like him.”

Namjoon snorts and rolls his eyes. “You’re so dramatic.”

It isn’t until Seokjin begins to fake wail, drawing attention to them, that Namjoon rushes to say, “Fine! Okay! I respect you and your jokes!”

Seokjin’s bottom lip trembles and he gives Namjoon a wide-eyed stare. “You mean it?”

Namjoon’s gaze narrows, but he nods. “Yes, hyung.”

The older man throws his hands in the air with a happy yell. “You respect me!”

Namjoon grumbles under his breath and ducks his head, only chancing a short glance Nabi’s way. Some of his embarrassment ekes away at the sight of her amused grin and he sighs, running a hand through his hair before downing the rest of his shot.

“Alright, good lunch,” Namjoon declares, setting the shot glass back down on the table. He glances at his watch. “Should we be heading back?”

“You go, I’ll get it,” Seokjin shrugs, waving them off when they all protest. He winks at Nabi. “It’s the least I can do for our new friend.”

Nabi blushes and doesn’t miss the flat look Namjoon shoots his friend’s way before he shoots to his feet. “Okay, thanks, hyung!”

“Are you sure?” Nabi questions, just to be on the safe side. She doesn’t know Seokjin very well and, despite him being older, she doesn’t want him to feel obligated to pay for her.

Seokjin purses his lips and waves her off. “You kids get back to work, yeah? I’ll be right after you.”

Nabi opens her mouth to thank him, but he’s already twisted around in his seat, yelling for the server before she has the chance. Mayhem just grins at the two of them, looking content to wait with Seokjin.

“Thanks for joining us today, Nabi! Maybe we can do it again sometime?”

Nabi smiles, liking the sound of that. “Thank you for inviting me and for the food.”

She offers a polite bow, which Mayhem giggles at.

“Get our new friend back to work safely, Joonie.” Nabi doesn’t know her well enough to know for sure, but she could swear there’s a mischievous glint in the woman’s eyes.

Namjoon mutters something and nods, waiting patiently for Nabi to gather her things and follow him out.

“Sorry my friends are so crazy,” Namjoon says once they’re out on the sidewalk, away from the hustle and bustle of the restaurant and swept into a different kind of chaos on the streets of Seoul.

Once again, the two of them knock elbows, this time due to the number of people flurrying past them and crowding around them.

“I like them,” Nabi shrugs with a small smile. She tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Seriously, thank you for inviting me.”

He shrugs, a small, shy smile twitching at his lips. “Thanks for coming.”

They settle into a silence as they walk, not at all phased by the number of people they accidentally bump into on their way back to the office.

The silence is only broken while they wait for the elevator. Namjoon glances sideways at her.

“So, would you actually consider joining us again?” he questions. “Or did you just look like you were considering it to be polite to May?”

Nabi hums. “Can't it be both?”

He stares at her for a moment, then shrugs. “I guess.”

She grins. “Then yes, I would definitely consider it.”

Namjoon smiles, motioning her into the elevator before him. “Cool. We’ll do it again sometime then.”

“Cool,” Nabi echoes, staring straight at the closing doors and biting her lip to keep from smiling too hard.

~*~*~

This continued over the years. Nabi didn’t always join them for lunch, and the trio didn’t always go out, but when she did she always left feeling full – hunger satiated and mood lifted from all the laughter.

Eventually, this transitioned into invites out after work too, sometimes group outings on the weekends. Occasionally, more people from work would join – DonWook drunk was actually an incredible sight to see and witnessing Jia let loose for a little while was wonderful.

Tonight is one of those nights, actually. Mayhem, Seokjin, and Namjoon invited everyone out for some drinks in celebration of a particular author signing with them. They did this occasionally, but more often when it was Mayhem who scouted them. Mayhem was moving up quickly, making a name for herself and proving her importance to the company.

Nabi never doubted her.

When Nabi arrives at the small restaurant, she stops short in surprise at not seeing any of her coworkers yet. She offers a feeble smile to one of the workers and ducks her head, tucking her hair behind her ear and stepping aside to let others in. She holds her sweater close to her, hoping she hadn’t missed a message somewhere about the outing being cancelled or relocated.

Thankfully, Namjoon walks through the door a few minutes later, looking relieved when he glances to the side and catches sight of her. He offers her his signature goofy, yet incredibly charming, smile and stops in front of her.

“Hello,” he greets, glancing around. “Is no one else here yet?”

She shakes her head. “I was actually starting to get worried.”

His smile turns reassuring and he motions toward a table. “No need to worry, the others are probably just running late. Let’s grab a table while we wait.”

The two of them move to a long table that seats eight, neither of them knowing how many will actually be joining them tonight. From the mass email they all got scolded for, it seemed like a lot of people would be here, which made it even more surprising that Nabi and Namjoon were the first to arrive.

“I’ll get some drinks and then text May to see what’s up,” Namjoon suggests, phone already in hand. “What do you want to drink?”

Nabi’s eyes widen and she clears her throat. “Oh! Um, beer is fine!”

Namjoon smiles and yells to get a worker’s attention, placing their drink order before shooting off a text to his group chat. Truthfully, he’s not surprised in the slightest when neither Mayhem or Seokjin reply immediately. He sets his phone on the table with a sigh, trying not to let his nerves show.

He does, however, wipe his sweaty palms on his pants beneath the table and offer Nabi a wobbly smile. “So…uh, how’s work going for you?”

“Good!” Nabi nods, offering a smile and a grumbled thanks as the server sets their drinks down.

Namjoon holds his glass like an anchor, keeping him buoyed in uncertain waters. “Good! The copiers giving you any more problems?”

Nabi turns her head and takes a sip of beer, chuckling before turning back to him. “No, actually, your little tricks seem to work pretty well! But I did finally learn what the fuser is and how to reset it!”

He grins. “Wow, look at you becoming a pro!”

She laughs, and the two of them settle into a stilted silence.

Namjoon shifts in his seat, trying not to appear rude as he glances around, heart sinking a little when he still doesn’t see any of their coworkers. He glances at his phone, then notices Nabi do the same.

“Sorry!” Namjoon blurts. “This isn’t keeping you from something, is it? You don’t have someone waiting for you at home?”

Nabi’s lips twitch, but she barely represses her smile as she shakes her head and tucks her phone away. “I live alone.”

He shifts, a question on the tip of his tongue that he bites back when his phone rings. He scrambles for it, eager for this unexpected one-on-one time to be over. Especially with Nabi looking far too pretty sitting across from him.

He quickly accepts the call from Mayhem. “May?”

Mayhem’s voice is tinny and hard to hear, the sound of music loud and thumping in the background. “Joonie! Where are you?”

Namjoon’s eyebrows furrow as he glances around. “I’m at the restaurant, where are you?”

Mayhem’s laughter is loud, and Namjoon swears he can hear Seokjin muttering something in the background. “We’re at Serendipity! Did you not get the email?”

Namjoon meets Nabi’s imploring eyes. “What email?”

Mayhem sighs. “Were you guys somehow left out of it?”

“You guys?” Namjoon repeats at the same time his eyes narrow. “Wait, how did you know I’m with—“

“Welp! You can either join us or stay where you are, I guess!” his friend quips in his ear. “I gotta go! They’re playing my song!”

“But May—“

The line dies and Namjoon has the worst, sinking feeling that this whole thing had been on purpose. He lets his hand fall against the table, tossing his phone onto it with a clatter. He offers Nabi a thin smile. “Looks like there’s been some sort of mix-up. They all went to Serendipity.”

Nabi’s expression falters and her mouth falls open with a soft, “Ah.” She stares down at her hands in thought. “That’s on the other side of town.”

Namjoon releases a sigh and nods. “We could…just order some food instead? I don’t really feel like clubbing tonight.”

Her hesitant gaze meets his hopeful one and she feels a flicker of…something, so she nods. “Okay.”

He grins. “Cool.”

He turns and yells for a server.

Yeah, Nabi thinks as she watches his easy interaction with a man wearing an apron, cool.

~*~*~

Their emails become more frequent after that, with Namjoon occasionally sending one just to check up on her and make sure she’s not working too late or with Nabi firing one off when she overhears something particularly hilarious on her trips to the copier room. It’s nice, this friendship that they slowly build with one another. It’s easy, relaxed, with no pressure.

But Namjoon can admit he’s become a little addicted. Addicted to her little giggle when he says something she finds funny on a night out, addicted to the way she shyly tucks her hair behind her ear, addicted to the way she gives him and his friends a hard time whenever they do something particularly stupid.

He loves it, and he loves the little licks of excitement he feels whenever his computer dings with another correspondence from her.

“Seriously, why don’t you just ask for her phone number?” Seokjin snorts as he collapses into the chair beside him.

Namjoon quickly clicks out of the email, side-eying his friend warily. ‘What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be in your own department?”

Seokjin arches an eyebrow, motioning to the still-steaming cup of coffee he’d just set down on Namjoon’s desk. “Is that really how you’re going to speak to a generous hyung who just brought you coffee?”

Namjoon rolls his eyes, but mutters a “thank you, hyung” before blowing lightly on the hot drink and taking a careful sip. It warms him up instantly.

His hyung laughs. “Okay, I see that you’re going to ignore my question.” He slaps Namjoon on the back as he stands. “Just know, it’d be possible to talk to her outside of work if you had her number.”

Namjoon feigns innocence, shooting him a bewildered look. “Why would I want to do that?”

Seokjin laughs, the loud sound turning a few heads and making Namjoon sink down in his chair. “You’re not nearly as subtle as you think you are, Namjoon-ah. Just ask for her number and get it over with, if you’re not going to ask her out.”

Namjoon’s face turns a deep shade of pink that makes Seokjin laugh again and squeeze his shoulder.

“Seriously,” Seokjin shakes his head and leaves him, not bothering to add anything further.

Namjoon stares after him, suddenly overwhelmed by the idea of him being so obvious. Does that mean Nabi knows too? Or is it just his friends, who know him so well? Does everyone in the office know about his massive crush on the not-so-new-now Legal Assistant?

One glance around at his fellow editors confirms his fears, each one looking quickly away before their eyes can connect.

He huffs and settles down in his chair, sipping irritatedly at his coffee and pointedly ignoring the email to focus on work.

But if he takes a short break later to respond…and maybe ask for her number…well, there’s no hyung standing over his shoulder to witness it.

~*~*~

The company party just before their break for Chuseok is somewhat of a tradition. Although Nabi had only been with the company for one of them so far, she knows this. Last year’s had been such a big deal that she’d actually been a little overwhelmed by it all. In addition to exchanging gifts, which she had already been prepared for, the office went all out in preparing traditional dishes.

Rather than dining out with the entire team or office, everyone contributed at least one dish for a company-wide luncheon. The spread was glorious, with red bean and brown sugar songpyeon, kimchi-jeon, braised beef short ribs, tteokguk, and sanjeok making up only a small fraction of the table.

The smells alone were enough to leave Nabi’s mouth watering, but this year she’s actually contributing. When Jia approached her about it, trying to get a good feel for who would be making what, Nabi had been hesitant. She’s never made food for a group of this size before, but Jia had quickly reassured her that there would be plenty of food and anyone who didn’t like her dish would have plenty more to choose from.

So, Nabi went with the safest thing she could think of – homemade hotteok, using a family recipe her grandmother had taught her when she was just a young girl.

Objectively, she knows the recipe is good. What she’s worried about is whether she’s made them as well as her sweet halmoni. She highly doubts it, knowing nothing could taste nearly as good as her grandmother makes it, but at least she tried, right? Her coworkers would appreciate the effort, if nothing else.

At least, that’s what she tells herself as she adds the container to the table in the lunchroom.

“Is that hotteok?” Namjoon’s voice asks enthusiastically when he peeks over her shoulder. He steals one off the top of the pile and takes a large bite. He tilts his head back in a moan, covering his mouth. “So good!”

“Jeez, Joonie, keep it in your pants,” Mayhem mutters quietly enough to not be heard by anyone else.

Namjoon’s cheeks flare, but his eyes narrow as he grabs another hotteok and shoves in toward Mayhem’s face. She willingly opens her mouth to the tasty treat and fumbles to take it from him. Her wide eyed stare is enough to turn Namjoon’s expression smug. He mouths back, “Keep it in your pants, May.”

She rolls her eyes, but offers Nabi a smile. “This is delicious, Nabi.”

“Oooh, hotteok!” Seokjin exclaims, reaching in between all of them to grab one. He groans as he takes a bite. “I love food!”

Nabi and Mayhem exchange a look, both smothering grins at the guys’ enthusiastic reactions.

“Alright, alright, enough eating at the food table,” Jia scolds, ushering them away. “Mind your manners, children. Take a plate and go!”

A chorus of “yes noona” and “yes unnie” echoes from the three, Nabi just shyly tucking her hair behind her ear before reaching for a plate to pile food on.

“You’re gonna sit with us, right?” Mayhem questions and it takes Nabi a minute to realize she’s talking to her.

“Oh!” She looks between them -- at Mayhem’s expectant gaze, Seokjin’s friendly smile, and Namjoon’s hopeful grin. “Yeah, sure!”

“Cool,” Namjoon mumbles, and Nabi can’t help but shoot him an amused grin.

“You know, for an editor, you have a small vocabulary,” she teases.

Namjoon’s cheeks turn a bright shade of red and he ducks his head, scratching at the back of his neck, much to Nabi’s delight.

Mayhem barks out a laugh, clapping Namjoon on the back. “She fits right in!”

Namjoon scowls at his friend. “You’re a bad influence.”

Mayhem merely smirks, giggling her way to a table. “Don’t you think life would be more interesting with more that one of me in it?”

“Hel—“ Namjoon pauses, glancing around with wide eyes before censoring himself, “Absolutely not!”

Seokjin sighs wistfully as he sits down next to Mayhem, giving her a playfully flirty flutter of his lashes. “The world wouldn’t be able to handle that much beauty!”

Namjoon snorts and rolls his eyes at the same time that Mayhem starts to coo and fuss over Seokjin.

Nabi tilts her head from her spot next to Namjoon at the food table, pausing long enough to look at them. “Are they—?”

Namjoon huffs a laugh, shaking his head. “You’d think so, right? But no, they’re completely platonic. Disgusting, but platonic.”

“Huh.” Nabi mutters before turning to finish loading her plate. She side-eyes Namjoon. “And you?”

“Me?” he questions with furrowed brows.

She nods toward Mayhem.

“Oh!” His nose wrinkles in disgust. “Definitely platonic!”

“I don’t know why, but I get the feeling I’m being talked about,” Mayhem calls from the table and Nabi and Namjoon laugh.

“Pipe down and eat your free food,” Namjoon instructs, rolling his eyes at the way she sticks her tongue out at him. So mature. He lifts an eyebrow at Nabi. “See what I have to put up with? Anyway, why’d you wanna know?”

She chuckles and shrugs. “It’s just good to know about the relationships throughout the office.”

“Ah, in that case, you’ll want to talk to Seokjin. He knows everything around here.”

“Really?”

He grins. “Yeah, come on! Let’s see what the new gossip is.”

“Cool,” Nabi grins, laughing when Namjoon narrows his eyes at her.

“Yeah, yeah,” Namjoon grumbles, but he can’t stop smiling, even when Mayhem starts up on her teasing again.

Because maybe, just maybe he likes it when Nabi teases him.

Just a little.

~*~*~

The fact that Mayhem was using dating apps wasn’t a surprise to anyone, Namjoon especially. Somehow, for reasons he can’t fathom, he’s on the receiving end of all the details he doesn’t want to know about the guys she hooks up with. Especially when he has to call her when she’s consistently late for work because of those hookups. So, he’s not really surprised when it happens, he expects it from her at this point, but he is surprised when he hears Nabi has a dating profile too.

“Wait, what?” he asks, tuning back into the conversation the girls are having over drinks one night.

“I swear, do you ever listen?” Mayhem sighs. “I was just telling Nabi that she should ask out the guy she’s been talking to.”

He furrows his eyebrows, turning his attention to Nabi. “You’ve been talking to a guy?”

“Well, there’s my answer to whether you listen,” Mayhem rolls her eyes and Namjoon glares at her. “She’s been talking to him for weeks now.”

His eyes widen. “What? Really?”

Nabi shrugs, laughing it off. “It’s just talking. It’s not going to go anywhere.”

“Not if you don’t ask him out, it’s not!” Mayhem points out, poking Nabi in the ribs and making her laugh.

Nabi shirks away, batting at her hands. Her gaze slides to Namjoon and then quickly away. “I don’t know. Maybe. We’ll see.”

Mayhem looks between the two of them with narrowed eyes, then exchanges a look with Seokjin, who’s been looking between the two of them throughout the entire exchange. With a smirk, Mayhem rolls her eyes and sips her drink. “Whatever. Do what you want, I guess.”

~*~*~

Nabi never did ask the guy on a date, far too busy with work to even slow down long enough. It’s all she can do to keep up with his messages, something he seems to understand because such is life in Seoul. It’s a little soul-crushing, how consuming work life in the big city is, but it’s what she signed up for. It’s what she’s dreamed of her entire life and she’s finally found a company she’s happy and proud to work for.

So, maybe she uses that as an excuse to not even bother, to not even try to get to know the guy better. He’s nice enough, but not anything to drop her entire life for. She wouldn’t.

Namjoon doesn’t hear anything further about Nabi and her dates – potential or otherwise – and he’s not sure if it’s because she’s stopped talking about them around him or because she genuinely doesn’t go on them. The clarification that she’s single was appreciated, although he’s had his suspicions for a while now. He figures he would have at least heard about a significant other by now.

So, he stops worrying about it. Stops overthinking it. Stops feeling pressured to make a move. If she’s not actually looking for something right now, why would he? Why would he want to mess up a good thing – a valuable friendship?

It’s become abundantly clear, to himself and to both of his friends, that that’s not what he wants with Nabi though. But no amount of them meddling or hinting around or threatening to tell her themselves will convince him to make that first move.

Even though he knows, traditionally, he really should be the one to do it.

Mayhem would probably smack him over the head for thinking that way, but it’s the truth. The guy is still entirely expected to make the first move and, to Namjoon, that’s kind of terrifying.

What if she rejects him? That would suck!

What if she feels awkward around him after? That would suck more!

No, he’s okay with things the way they are. It’s not perfect, obviously, and definitely not ideal, but…it’s okay. He can deal with his feelings.

At least, he thinks he can.

~*~*~

There are very few times in Namjoon’s life that he can remember wanting to dismember someone. Occasionally he feels that way about May when she won’t stop flicking his ear, often he feels that way toward all the big corporations for their part in global warming, but…he’s never felt it quite as strongly as when May’s kind-of-date’s friend’s fingers grazed Nabi’s wrist.

They’re, of course, here to celebrate that very person. Apparently, Jungkook got a big promotion at work. Frankly, Namjoon doesn’t care. He doesn’t really know the guy. But he does know Nabi and does care that he’s touching her.

Even if the touch was accidental.

Although, that doesn’t seem likely. Why else would Jungkook be so intrigued by Nabi’s bracelet? It’s simple silver. Of course, it looks gorgeous on Nabi. Everything looks good on Nabi. But really, Jungkook?

Tightening his jaw, he tries not to appear too miffed as he waits for someone from their group to take a seat so he can finally sit down. Another of May’s kind-of-date’s friends, Taehyung, takes a seat and Namjoon blows out a breath as he follows his lead.

Thankfully, Nabi notices and decides to join.

And if Namjoon scoots a little closer and puts an arm around her shoulders, who cares? It’s not like he’s being rude. It’s not like it’s scandalous. He just…really does not want Jungkook to get too close.

Maybe he’s being too territorial.

At the pointed look Seokjin shoots him, he definitely is.

He sighs and shifts in his seat, trying to relax. It isn’t until Nabi scoots a little closer, leans a little further into his space, that he does.

He peers at her curiously, but her attention is still on Jungkook as they talk about something Namjoon hasn’t bothered to listen to.

He’s vaguely aware of when Mayhem comes back with Jimin, is even more aware of the look his two friends exchange at his expenses but he ignores them. He couldn’t be bothered to pay them more attention anyway, not when Nabi turns in her chair and leans back on him like it’s an entirely normal thing to do.

Not when she threads her hand through his fingers and holds his arm tighter to her.

He’s going to spontaneously combust.

To avoid this, he takes a rather large drink of the beer placed in front of him and clears his throat at the knowing smirk Mayhem throws his way. She tosses him a wink and he turns his attention promptly away, tuning into the conversation Nabi is having with Jungkook.

“So, you work in the legal department?” Jungkook questions. “What does that entail, exactly?”

“Oh,” Nabi blows out a tired sigh, waving him off. “Nothing exciting. I deal a lot with legal contracts and business deals.”

“Sounds exciting to me,” Jungkook shrugs, gaze flickering to Namjoon. “You’re Namjoon, right? You guys work together?”

He sounds like he already knows and Namjoon glances between the two of them, wondering what she’s told him. He nods. “I’m a Senior Editor for the company.”

Jungkook lets out a low whistle. “So, what? You read a lot of books and make corrections?”

Namjoon opens his mouth to correct him, to clarify his role, but he’s already blazing on. He clamps his mouth shut with a frown that doesn’t go unnoticed by Nabi, who squeezes his hand with a soft smile.

“You’re both pretty smart then, huh?” Jungkook looks between the two of them, shaking his head with a defeated sigh. “Smart people always make the cutest couples.”

Namjoon stiffens, staring with wide eyes as Jungkook downs the rest of his beer and gets up to grab another.

Nabi shifts slightly, pulling him back to the moment, and he blinks out of his daze. He glances at her hesitantly, quirking a wobbly smile.

He’s surprised to find she looks completely relaxed, unfazed by the remark.

“Mayhem looks happy,” Nabi comments, leaning close so he can hear her without raising her voice.

His gaze shifts in May’s direction, not at all surprised to see her looking enamored by Jimin, even as Seokjin regales embarrassing stories about her. He kind of admires that about her, that she’s not afraid to look silly or awkward. She merely shrugs it off because, well, she’s human and she is who she is. She never alters or filters herself for anyone…except work. She takes that seriously, at least.

He’s about to open his mouth to respond when a slow chant starts on the dance floor, stealing all of their attention. Their coworker, and part-time disc jockey at the club, takes the stage, waving at the crowd with a gummy smile.

It’s odd to see Yoongi like this, Namjoon thinks. He looks free…kind of careless in a way Namjoon envies.

“Do you want to dance?” The words are out of his mouth before he can think to stop them and he turns a wide-eyed stare to Nabi. Nabi doesn’t seem to notice his flustered state, merely grins and nods, keeping his hand in hers as she tugs him toward the dance floor.

Okay, so maybe…maybe being more like his friends and coworkers could work. Maybe he could stand to be a little more…bold.

Except maybe this is a horrible idea because he hates to dance and he quickly remembers why as soon as he’s on the dance floor with Nabi. Even surrounded by a crowd of people who dance just as horribly as he does, he feels embarrassed by how off-rhythm he is.

And his hands won’t stop sweating.

“You look miserable,” Nabi laughs, taking both his hands in hers and waving them around. “Come on! Loosen up, have fun!”

He tries. He really, really does. But he can’t focus on anything other than the bow of Nabi’s lips, the sway of her hips, the sweet glint of her eyes, and the softness of her hands in his.

“Nabi, I have to talk to you about something,” he blurts out, but he’s not so sure it comes out coherent because he definitely hadn’t intended to say it.

Nabi’s eyebrows furrow and she shifts closer, raising her voice. “What? You want to talk?”

He finds himself incapable of doing anything other than nodding. It seems he’s lost all capabilities of control.

Great.

He feels a little out of it, a little dazed, as she leads him over to a quiet corner of the club. He feels eyes on them, notices all the eyes on her, and he can’t say he’s surprised. She looks gorgeous tonight, but she looks gorgeous all the time. It doesn’t matter what she’s wearing, how much makeup she has on, or what she does with her hair on any particular day. She’s always been stunning.

When Nabi stops short and turns slowly to face him, eyes wide and cheeks stained crimson, he realizes he’s been saying all of that out loud.

Well, great. Awesome.

Cool.

Nabi bites her lip and tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear, averting her gaze to the people around them. They’ve made it off the dance floor, so it’s not as crowded, but it’s still loud. It’s a wonder that she heard his rambling at all. He wonders, briefly, how loud he’d been talking and takes a furtive glance around to see a few people looking their way.

He blushes.

Wow, he’s horrible at this.

“You–” she sighs, fiddling with the material of her dress. “You can’t just say things like that.”

He arches an eyebrow, edging closer in an effort to hear her better. It definitely has absolutely nothing at all to do with the tantalizing smell of her perfume. “Why?”

She makes a noise in the back of her throat, a hand coming up to cover her face.

He grins, not used to seeing this side of her, and reaches to move her hand, but pauses. “Nabi?”

She sighs and makes a humming sound, eyes flickering to him.

He’s dazed for a moment, completely enraptured by how adorable she is, then he blinks and his grin widens. “Can I hold your hand?”

The question clearly takes her by surprise, if the way her eyes widen is any indication. She nods in lieu of a verbal response and Namjoon’s dimples dance as he reaches for her hand, linking their fingers together.

He takes a moment to observe her, admiring the light blush of her cheeks and the way her eyes sparkle in the light. Then he clears his throat. “Can I…also take you on a date sometime?”

Her lips press together in a stunned smile, eyes comically wide in a way that makes Namjoon’s heart flip as he tries not to laugh. She nods. “Okay.”

“Okay?” he questions, if only to make sure he’d heard her correctly.

She nods.

He grins. “Cool.”

~*~*~

Namjoon and Nabi manage to keep the fact that the two of them are dating a secret for a while. Slipping off to lunch together or for drinks after work when others are preoccupied becomes easier once word gets out about the drama between Yoongi and Mayhem.

They’d travel as far as they dared during their lunch breaks, frequenting spots that Namjoon knows their coworkers don’t attend often. Then they’d travel a bit further after work, Namjoon taking it upon himself to show her all the best places on that side of town. Nabi has a few favorites she’d found and she’s excited to show him, even if Namjoon has already been to all of them. It’s better with her there, he’d argue.

Thankfully, the secrecy of their meetings means they have more privacy, less people prying into their business and asking questions about what it all meant. Namjoon doesn’t really care what it all means, he just enjoys spending time with Nabi. He doesn’t want to overthink it.

It also means that, when Namjoon finally works up the courage to kiss her on their fourth date, she has nobody to squeal over it with. It probably isn’t much to squeal over, really. It’s a quick and clumsy kiss as he drops her off at her apartment, one that he blushes about and then quickly bids her goodnight, but…Nabi’s heart thrums excitedly in her chest anyway.

And she may or may not squeal into her pillow about it too.

Eventually, though, the entire office inevitably hears about their relationship. Namjoon assumes it’s all thanks to Seokjin, who could never keep his mouth shut about anything, but once he realizes that Nabi doesn’t care that everyone knew, he finds himself not caring either.

That is, until he learns about the betting pool.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” he groans, running a hand through his hair in slight annoyance. Yes, he sees the humor in what his friends are telling him – even Nabi is laughing about the whole thing – but that doesn’t mean he approves. “What would have happened if I never asked her out?”

“To be fair,” Mayhem starts before biting into an apple, the crisp bite loud. Juice dribbles down her chin and she sucks it between her teeth, swiping a napkin over her face. “I thought Nabi would be the one to ask you.”

Namjoon’s eyes narrow, mouth opening on a sharp retort, before Seokjin quickly butts in.

“I always had faith in you,” he reassures, slapping a hand on Namjoon’s shoulder. “I knew you’d get tired of pining for her eventually.”

“I still can’t believe you’ve liked me for three years,” Nabi laughs.

“Almost three years,” Namjoon corrects, to which Mayhem rolls her eyes.

“So, who won the pool?” Nabi questions, ignoring Namjoon’s comment entirely.

Mayhem pouts, glancing over her shoulder as Yoongi takes a seat next to her at their lunch table.

Yoongi grins. “I did.”

Namjoon snorts. “What did you win? Six thousand won?”

Yoongi’s grin turns smug as he puts an arm around Mayhem, pulling her in close. “Six hundred thousand, actually.”

Namjoon chokes on his coffee and Nabi rubs his back with a frown. “Six hundred thous– what?! How many people were in on this?”

“The entire company,” Mayhem shrugs.

Seokjin nods around a bite of ramyeon. “ShiHyuk-nim bet you’d take five years.”

“Our CEO was betting on our dating lives?” Namjoon groans, burying his face in his hands. “This is embarrassing.”

“Now, now,” Mayhem chuckles, reaching across the table to pat his arm. “The important thing is that you did eventually ask her out.”

“Yeah,” Seokjin snorts. “And now your new boyfriend has all the prize money.”

Mayhem grins. “Exactly!”

“Hmm,” Nabi sniffs and fiddles with the straw in her cup. “I think the least you can do with that money is treat us to a meal.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes, but doesn’t bother to suppress his grin at her audacity. He shrugs. “Fine by me. Mayhem was going to make me take her out on a bunch of dates with it anyway.”

“You still are,” Mayhem argues with a challenging flick of her eyebrow.

Yoongi smirks, squeezing his hand on her shoulder. “Yes, jagiya.”

“You know, I’ll never say no to a good meal,” Seokjin mutters, but it’s muffled around a rather large bite of food that everyone grimaces over.

“We know, hyung,” Namjoon shakes his head with a laugh, sliding a napkin his way. “We know.”

#kim namjoon #bts fanfiction #kim namjoon fanfiction #bts fanfic #kim namjoon x oc #namjoon x oc #namjoon fanfiction #namjoon fanfic #bts fluff

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joyfulhopelox · 3 years

Text

White Lilac

Pairing: Jungkook x reader (war! au)

Genre: angst, fluff

Warnings: hints to major character death

Word count: 1.6k

Rating: pg13

Summary: White lilac- a symbol of purity and innocence, that is what he saw in you that day. He promised himself he would keep you safe and happy, but the cold hard reality has other plans for the two of you. The promise that he made under the lilac tree led to the ultimate sacrifice.

A/N: This is part of the Love Blossom Series (4/7) and square 5/25 of the @bangtanwritingbingo event (square: Jeon Jungkook). I want to thank my amazing beta @dinamitae. Eva you have been a gem for helping me with this one! <3 I have not written angst in a while and you have given me the confidence that i needed! I would also like to thank my best friend for putting herself through finding the perfect picture for me to make a banner out of! (I promise i am done angst-ing Jungkook for now!)

Copyrights @joyfulhopelox for both the work and the banner.

As always please leave feedback and/or talk to me as i love to hear from you! Enjoy <3

The scent of white lilacs invaded your senses, the sweet fragrance wafting along the warm spring breeze. Walking through the garden you giggled as you observed the bees, barely awoken from their slumber over the winter. It was cathartic, the stillness of the garden, the smells enveloping you offering a sense of peace you revelled in.

You sat down underneath the big white lilac tree, a bunch of flowers nestled in your lap. You hummed whilst your fingers worked diligently at making a flower crown. It was the only time you had to enjoy the nature around you and you were going to make the most of it. Humming to yourself you didn’t notice the man that approached silently on the pathway ahead of you.

Jungkook observed you for a while, his eyes taking in the picture of innocence that lay ahead of him. He would tell you this years later, but he fell in love with you as soon as he saw you. His heart thumped in his chest at the sight of your wide smile and childlike glee as you placed your finished crown on your head. He decided then and there that he would do anything in his power to keep that smile on your face. Determined to be the one to have your heart, he approached you. Finally noticing him, the wide smile you offered him sealed his fate.

“Jungkook!” you laughed in delight as said man picked you up in his arms, “put me down!” Your legs thrashed around trying to wiggle yourself out of his hold. Jungkook held onto you tighter, his laugh echoing around the row of lilacs towering over you.

“Y/N, you will fall!” he warned you when your incessant slaps on his back made him lose his grip on you. Laughing you stopped and just let yourself hang over his shoulder allowing him to carry you, the basket he had on his other shoulder obstructing your view.

“And here I present to you, the queen of the garden, Y/N” he made a show out of placing you back on your feet underneath the same lilac tree he found you months ago. The lilac tree that drew his attention, it being the tallest one standing like a beacon amongst the others. You chuckled and steadied yourself still holding onto his shoulder.

“You flatter me good sir, I am but a fairy of the garden” you mock curtsied, the dress you were wearing billowing around you. Jungkook took a moment to absorb the smell of the lilac and the sight of you. The sun shone through the branches, casting shadows over the ground and yet it seemed like the rays of sun managed to find you anywhere you went. The light shining around you gave you an ethereal glow. He couldn’t have been happier than at that moment.

You smiled at him and offered him your hand. “Come on, let's sit down and have that picnic” you beckoned him. He let himself be guided by you, in his head making a promise that he would follow you wherever you would go.

Playfully tugging at his hand you urged him to hurry up and set down the basket he carried over his shoulder. Doing so gave him the mobility he needed to tug back at you, his strength greater than yours. Yelping you stumbled backwards into him, your hands on his chest to stop yourself from falling.

“Jungkook!” you chided with a gentle slap on his arm. You tried to look serious in your mock anger but the crinkle at the corner of your eyes told him otherwise. He pretended to look apologetic for a second before a mischievous grin formed on his face. In an instant you were trapped in his arms, his fingers digging into your sides tickling you. Pearls of laughter fell from your lips, and Jungkook swore he’d never heard anything more pure.

“Stooooop” you pleaded but it was futile. When at last you forfeited, he stopped, but the grip he had on you tightened. He raised one hand to cup your face, your bodies so close together that you could feel each and every breath he took, each heartbeat. The laughter died from your lips and you inhaled sharply. He was beautiful, his kind eyes locking with yours. A surge of affection and happiness washed over you. Mirroring the hand he had on your cheek, your thumb caressed his.

“I love you” your admittance was nothing new to him, but each time he heard it, it felt as if his heart would burst out of his chest. His smile promised you eternal love and devotion and when his lips moulded into yours in a kiss, you believed it.

“Marry me” he whispered. You never thought you’d feel so incandescently euphoric, but as you nodded your head and whispered your acceptance against his lips, you felt like you were on top of the world.

The white lilac tree- your white lilac tree- stood once again in bloom, the fragrance caressing your sensitive nose. With your head buried in Jungkook’s shoulder you revelled in his warmth. You felt content, his strong arms around you, his palms resting on your hips tracing patterns that only he knew about.

“Y/N” his sleepy voice penetrated the daydream you had fallen under. You hummed in response, feeling too tranquil to speak. He paused for a couple of seconds and you allowed him to gather his thoughts. When he remained quiet you realised that what he wanted to say was serious enough to trouble him.You lifted your head up to glance at him, instantly reading the worry on his face. His brows were furrowed and he was biting his lips in concentration. Releasing yourself from his warm grip you cupped his face, a feeling of unease washing over you.

The relaxed atmosphere you have been basking in earlier is broken by the somberness in his eyes. You knew what he was going to say and with a pained smile you shushed him before he could speak.

“I know, I understand.” His eyes pleaded for you to believe that he had no other choice, he had to fulfill his promise. He prayed that you knew how much he loved you and what you meant to him. You understood but it wasn’t easier on you. “We will make it through this, I promise.”

That night you did not let each other go, under the white lilac tree, hands intertwined, the ring on your finger telling the story of a forever that would never be.

‘To Y/N,

With regrets we share the news of…..’

The scent of while lilacs no longer mattered to you. Walking through the same garden where you met your husband all those years ago felt like a thousand knives stabbing into you. The rain pelted down on the hard ground loudly, in a pattern that almost felt like gunshots. Your feet carried you mindlessly through the pathways you and Jungkook would walk through, hand in hand, very much in love. With him by your side the road felt too short, but the cold empty space next to you reminded you of how long the distance actually was. It felt like an eternity, your feet aching, your throat coarse. One foot in front of the other, one tear trailing another down your cheek, your fingers gripped tightly onto a piece of soaked paper. The words smudged, but you didn’t care, you knew them by heart. They burnt a hole through you, raged inside your numb heart.

‘Beloved Y/N,

It is getting dark here so I will have to write this quickly.

You have always been better with words than I have, but I will try my best to be up to par with your skills. I long to see you, see your warm smile, see your eyes crinkle when you laugh at my jokes, see the way you light up when we walk through the garden.

I long to be able to hold your warm hand. I have almost forgotten what they feel like, my hands can only remember the coldness of weapons and the dirt that they have gripped for so many months. But maybe I should not touch your hands from now on, my bloodstained ones would only taint them with the sins that I have had to commit.

Y/N, I am afraid. It is cold here. I am forgetting what the sun looks like, what the smell of the white lilacs on your skin feels like, what your lips taste like. I wonder if I will ever make it back and experience them again.

I know I have made you cry time and time again by now, please forgive me. I have never wanted to cause you pain. Had I known this is how things were going to end up, I would have not approached you that day in the garden. You were so beautiful to me, framed by the lilacs, a crown of flowers on your head. You looked like a princess. Pure and innocent.

I never meant to taint that innocence, I wanted to keep you safe and sound, warm and happy, keep the smile tattooed on your face.

I am here now holding onto the last bit of hope that I will fulfill that promise. I am writing to you now to make another promise. That somehow, someday, I will return to you.

I would continue writing but the sky is getting dark and the rain is making it difficult to hold the pen.

I love you, now and forever.

Eternally yours,

Jeon Jungkook’

And so the white lilacs never bloomed in your heart again.

Main Masterlist

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justasparkwritings · 2 years

Text

Merry & Bright {10}: More Than You Could Ever Know Pt. 2

Previous: Decorate My Heart

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader, Kim Seokjin x Kim Namjoon

Genre: Fluff, Non Idol AU

Rating: PG13

Warnings: Swearing!

Word Count: 1.5k

Summary: Jungkook meets the stranger that Taehyung’s eye has fallen upon.

Listening: All I Want for Christmas Is You, Mariah Carey

Master List: Merry & Bright 2021

Tag List

Tag List: @knjkitten @mochikeyds

Jungkook’s jaw drops as you stand up and move to the next table. He hopes he isn’t making it up, but he sees you glance at him from across the bar. Will he be able to focus on anyone else? Or just stare at you?

“Hello?” The woman in front of him smiles curtly, and he stares back blankly. He looks around her to Taehyung who sneaks a traditional K-Pop heart under the table.

“Hi, I’m Jungkook,” He extends his hand, which she shakes.

“Hi, Aimee,” Her smile is bright, but not nearly as bright as yours.

“You’re Korean?” Jungkook asks.

“I am, you?”

“I am.”

Her smile is bright. “Taehyung said you have all the gossip on him.”

“Yeah, he’s already got a crush on you,” Jungkook discloses. Aimee blushes deeply, and he realizes the weird position he must’ve put her in.

“You think?”

He nods. “I do.”

“He’s got a kind smile,” she confides.

“Oh the sweetest.”

Tucking strands of her curled long-bob behind her ear, she starts to tread into “You two have been friends for a while?”

“Most of our lives,” Jungkook twirls his empty glass. “What do you like about him?”

“There’s a little hint of wonder in his eyes. They twinkle with it, really sparkling.”

“He kinda looks like he’s just discovering the big dipper for the first time, you know?”

Aimee hums in agreement, a quieter sign of contemplation. “I love that, you two must be really close.”

Jungkook nods. “Practically brothers.”

“Tell me about you, what do you do?”

“I’m in tech,”

“Oh! Very cool, what aspect of tech?”

Jungkook’s trying to determine where Aimee falls on the spectrum of understanding what it means to work in tech. does she want the long answer, the philosophical answer, or the shortest possible answer?

“We don’t have to talk about work,” Aimee interrupts his stream of thought.

“No, I just can never tell when people ask that if they want the real answer or some in between,” Jungkook shrugs, eyes drifting again to you. He receives a wink, and damnit he can feel his cheeks heating up. He adjusts in his seat.

“I’m in graphic design, so I understand some of it,” Aimee says.

“You’re an artist?”

“Yeah,”

Jungkook nods, of course Taehyung likes her.

“That’s cool, me too, well, on the side.”

“Oh?”

“I draw and have done some work designing tattoos,” Jungkook’s glad his are covered.

“That’s incredible,”

“Taehyung dabbles in art, too. He’s a really great painter,” Jungkook’s goal is to be the ultimate wingman, getting his best friend a date with Aimee outside of the constrains of speed dating, maybe nudge their paths to keep intersecting until it’s no longer two, but one.

“You’re a good friend.”

“I try,” He blushes.

“Switch!” The woman announces, and Jungkook mentally adjusts his list. He wants to make it to you, again. He wants to talk to you more, get to know you, receive that delicate wink once more.

Taehyung makes a beeline for Jungkook the minute his last date is over, ready to fill out his card.

“Wasn’t she amazing?” He asks, voice quiet and budding with excitement.

“Who?”

Taehyung rolls his eyes. “Aimee!”

“Oh – yeah, she was pretty cool.”

“Who were you talking about?” His pen stops it’s third writing of Aimee Wu.

“No one,” Jungkook mutters.

“Jungkookie,” Taehyung chides.

“Y/N,” He answers.

“I knew it! I knew it!”

“How?”

Taehyung quiets his chuckles. “You kept looking at her! And winking!”

“I did not.”

“Whatever, put her down!”

Jungkook shrugs, sinking down into himself. “What if, what if she was just going along and flirting?”

“And doesn’t want to go out with you?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook’s head hangs in a quiet, truly pathetic slouch.

“Well, then you’d have your answer.”

Taehyung is correct, there’s no harm in writing your name down.

“How many times did you write Aimee’s down?”

Taehyung smiles sheepishly. “Five.”

They stand and walk over to the host, who scans their cards to ensure all their information is correct before letting them know they can leave. Instead of vacating the bar like everyone else, they meander over to the booth Seokjin and Namjoon have occupied. They’re cozy, limbs crossing, heads bent towards each other as their lips move quickly in a smattering of whispers.

“Hey,” Jungkook interrupts, sitting across from the couple.

“Hey,” Seokjin straightens up a little, and Namjoon follows suit. “Namjoon, have you met Jungkookie?”

“Ah, no, I haven’t,” Namjoon extends a hand. “Hi, Namjoon.”

“Jungkook.”

“How was speed dating?” Jin asks. He signals to the waitress who immediately comes over, and Jin orders anther round for the table as well as some shared appetizers.

“Trash,” Jungkook answers.

“Wonderful,” Taehyung says.

“What’s her name?” Namjoon asks Taehyung.

“Wu Aimee. She’s beautiful! And she’s a graphic designer, and when I look at her… she’s gorgeous.”

“Damn,” Namjoon mutters.

“Did she like you too or do we need to plan our escape, Mr. Goldberg?” Seokjin laughs.

“No, she liked me too.”

“They kept glancing at each other, staring wistfully across the room the entire fucking time.”

“What about you Jungkook, anyone catch your eye?”

Jungkook’s about to answer when he catches you again – slipping your coat. You’re talking to your friends who, of course, include Aimee. Damn, you two played it so cool, not glancing at each other, whispering between dates. He’ll admit, this makes him like you even more. Your laughter barely filters through the rest of the noise of the bar, but he swears he can hear it.

“Jungkook!” Seokjin snaps, pulling him back to his table and his friends.

“Huh?”

“Stop staring at her, if she wants to go out with you, you’ll be matched. Calm the fuck down,” Seokjin scolds.

Jungkook, despite not really being deeply engaged in traditional Korean customs, still takes in the advice and guidance of his elder, no matter how obnoxious.

“Sorry. Yeah, she’s pretty cool.”

“You’ve got it bad, yeah?” Namjoon smiles. He’s got dimples – is this why Seokjin can’t seem to separate himself from Namjoon’s side?

“I don’t know,” He sips his beer.

“Jungkookie doesn’t date much,” Taehyung informs Namjoon. He’s an outsider, a newbie to the ins and outs of their friend group.

“What is much?” Namjoon asks.

“When was your last date?” Jin asks.

Jungkook frowns. “Uh, date-date?”

“As opposed to?” Jin asks.

“Hook up,” Namjoon tells him.

“When was the last time you took someone out that you liked, and didn’t sleep with them after?” Seokjin clarifies his initial question.

“A traditional, leave room for Jesus date,” Namjoon expands, expounding Seokjin’s definition.

“A year, for sure. Maybe more? When did I date Sera?”

“That was the last woman you dated for longer than a month?” Jin’s shocked – Sera had been …. A rough estimate, it’s been at least two, probably three Christmases since Jungkook dated her. There’s been no one in between?

Taehyung knows Jungkook’s been sleeping with someone for a while, if not many someone’s over the last three years. “When was the last time you got laid?”

Jungkook’s confident in his answer, a smirk on his lips. “Last week.”

“Fuck buddy?” Namjoon asks.

Jungkook shrugs. “There are no labels.”

Jin rolls his eyes. “Stop settling for decent pussy. If you want a relationship and to stop staring at pictures of, what was her name?”

“Keiko?” Taehyung is hoping they can pretend she didn’t exist, or that they don’t actually have to talk about her.

“No, after her,” Jin shakes his head.

“Quynh?”

Jin snaps his fingers in Taehyung’s direction. “Yes! Her wedding photos, you have to put in the work.”

“What happened with Quynh?” Namjoon asks.

There’s a groan around the table, and Namjoon wishes he hadn’t asked. Their expressions become pained and annoyed and pissed they have to talk about her again.

Taehyung takes the bullet. “She broke Jungkook’s heart. Before Sera.”

“Oh,” Namjoon nods. “We all have a Quynh.”

“Now there’s a Y/N,” Taehyung bumps his shoulder with Jungkook’s.

“No, there could be, no promises, no guarantees,” Jungkook levels.

“But hope!”

“Isn’t this what you wished for – for Christmas?”

“What? A girlfriend?” Namjoon finishes his drink, body still inexplicably linked to Seokjin’s.

“Jungkookie makes a wish every year, like a kid on Santa’s lap,” Taehyung explains.

“It’s so fucking cute,” Jin coos.

“This year, what’d you wish for?”

“That’s not for you to know!” Jungkook laughs. “My conversations with Santa are between me and Santa, not you three idiots.”

“But you want him to make your wish come true, right?” Namjoon’s starting to understand. Seokjin, the eldest in the group, doesn’t take life too seriously. He gives grace to everyone he meets, and loves deeply and unconditionally. Taehyung is aloof and thoughtful and silly, wanting love like Elf wanted to find his dad. Jungkook is… the rebel. Probably deeply neurotic and type A, but chaotic and brave.

Jungkook cocks his eyebrow, the dregs of his glass sliding down his throat.

“More than you could ever know.”

Next: Like I Do

#bangtanbathhouse #bangtanarmynet #ksmutclub #networkbangtan #ultkpopnetwork #kpopccc #dailybts #purplearmynet #dailybangtan #justasparkwritings #merry&bright2021 #merryandbright #christmas #BTS fic #BTS fanfic #clubzerooclock

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justimajin · 3 years

Text

The Spontaneous Adoption

Pairing: Seokjin x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst (just a little)

Words: 8.6k

Summary: It’s no secret that you’re not particularly fond of children, always maintaining a distance from the little ones and the title of a parent remaining quite non-existential on your checklist. But when a sudden last minute opportunity presents itself and you’re committed to helping out a dear friend, you can only hope that you and your boyfriend are up for the challenge.

Warnings: pg13 rating, stressful times - Y/N and Jin start to go crazy at one point (with some hints of angst)

The apartment is ornate and spacious, an old brown leather couch resting in the far corner and opposite to the newly installed television set. It’s cozy and private, not a speck of dust nor loose hair in sight. A small cup rests on the side of the kitchen counter, brimming with freshly brewed coffee.

The door comes slamming open.

You spin around, pupils dilating and hand protectively hovering over the cup. There’s a woman standing at the door frame, dressed in a white blouse and a pencil skirt, her hand tightly wound around a briefcase and a jacket hanging off of her left elbow. Dark circles outline the outskirts of her orbs, a deep crease settling in between her brows and a fatigued expression masking her delicate features.

Her tense body straightens up and she raises her hands.

“Y/N!”

She immediately lunges for you, briefcase falling to the ground and arms wrapping around your torso. You abandoned the cup of coffee you were anticipating to drink, reciprocating with furrowed brows.

“Yeong Hee?” You lean back, breaking away from the hug, “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, Y/N.” She exhales like she’s just returned after being centuries away. Her hands raise in defense and a look of guilt etches onto her, “I’m so sorry for suddenly barging in like that.”

You nod, waiting for her to continue, “I-I just really wanted to see you‒if you’re not too busy?”

A small knowing smile curls on your lips, “Sit down. I’ll grab you some coffee to drink.”

Yeong Hee eagerly complies, flopping quite ungraciously on your couch as you rummage through your cabinets for an extra cup. She leans her head against the white pillow you just leave there in case of much needed mid-day naps, letting out a relieved sigh that has the corner of your mouth lifting.

Splitting the coffee you made into two cups, you sit down next to her on the couch, slipping a cup in her direction.

“So what brings you here?”

“Oh you know, just wanted to stop by and see how you’ve been doing.” She takes the cup, averting her eyes.

“Huh.” You acknowledge, “I’ve been doing great these days actually, nothing to worry about.”

“Good, good.” She glances around, as if inspecting your place. You raise an eyebrow at that, closely following her line of sight with suspicion.

She immediately whirls around, “You only have one bedroom in here, right?”

“Yeah…?” You ponder, waiting for her to add more details in. She resumes back to quietly sipping down on her coffee, the effects on caffeine seeming to lift her spirits up.

“Yeong Hee?” You cautiously ask. She peers up with intrigued eyes.

“Yes?”

“Did you have a fight with Namjoon recently?”

You straight up just asked it. No beating against the bush, no endless pondering until she reveals it, simply observe and assess the situation, then take your best crack at what’s really going on.

Yeong Hee goes dead silent.

You wonder if you potentially struck a nerve you weren’t supposed to, if the candid question wasn’t what she wanted to hear at the moment. Leaning closer, you bring your cup to your lips, your gaze not flattering away from her.

She instantly beams, surprising you a bit, “No, no! Namjoon has been lovely, Y/N!” A laugh escapes her at the mere suggestion.

“A-As always..…” Her light chuckles die down, gaze falling down to her cup.

“Yeong Hee.” You persist. Although you don’t know all the variables to the equation, you have an inkling that her sudden appearance at your apartment with a disheveled appearance isn’t just a mere coincidence.

You narrow your eyes, blurting out the question without a second thought. “Is it the baby?”

Yeong Hee looks up at you in absolute terror.

That definitely struck a nerve.

Before you can say anything to soothe your previous statement, Yeong Hee bursts out into tears. Her reaction throws you off completely and soon you’re scrambling around, trying to locate a tissue box for her.

“Here.” You hand her a tissue she gratefully accepts, rubbing a hand against her back, “Let it all out, it’s okay.”

“God Y/N, it’s a nightmare!” She wails, ��I just don’t know what to do anymore!”

“What happened, Yeong Hee?” You press, needing some clarification.

“The baby, Y/N!” Yeong Hee whimpers, “She just cries so much, and for hours, on end!” Her mind runs astray, countless recollections emerging, “I can’t even remember the last time I got a decent night of rest! On top of that Namjoon just starts researching all these remedies to help out because he’s worried and then I’m worried and then the whole house is worried so the baby cries even more!” Her vision begins to fog with tears, and she covers her face with her hands, “I just can’t take it, Y/N!”

You envelope her in your arms, “Just to let you know, Namjoon does have the tendency to overact.”

She halts her crying to stare at you with wide eyes, “Right?! I tell him to just relax, but he’ll go on about how he’s a bad father because he can't get the baby to sleep when I’m not around!”

“It’s okay, Yeong Hee.” You ease, “This is your first child and it’s never easy taking care of a baby.”

“I know Y/N, I really do.” She confesses, wiping away any excess of water from her flushed face, “But I’ve never felt more stressed out in my life. My job, and then Namjoon, and then the baby,” Shaking her head, you wonder if there was ever a time you’ve seen her look so exhausted, “It’s just too much.”

At the mention of her husband again, you tilt your head, “When’s the last time you and Namjoon went out?”

Yeong Hee glances up in her spot, lost in contemplation.

“Probably during my pregnancy?” She replies as if asking you, “We used to go on small walks together, so I could get more exercise, but since then we’ve just been going to our separate jobs…”

“I would barely consider that a date.” You debate, pressing a finger against your lips. “It doesn’t sound like you guys have been spending that much time with each other.”

“I think you’re right.” Her bottom lip trembles and your eyes widen, “I-I guess this means I’m a bad wife now, too!”

She breaks into sobs and you wince, too high in hopes that she was alright and ready to talk it out. Her sobs become intenser and harsher as seconds fly by and you begin to contemplate if there’s anything you can do other than being a listening ear for her pain.

“What if....” Yeong Hee gazes at you with defeated eyes and you blurt out the words without a second thought, “What if I took care of her for a while?”

She blinks, “What do you mean?”

You sigh internally, wondering how you could be foolish enough to offer up the idea. Shaking that thought away, it seems now you don’t have a choice but to own up to your words.

“What if I took care of her? So that you and Namjoon could get a break and spend some time together, maybe even go on a date?”

Yeong Hee stares at you like you’re an angel that’s been sent down to heaven just for her, “You would do that, Y/N?”

You want to desperately turn back, “O-Of course.”

“That’s….wow, that would mean so much to me Y/N.” Her eyes grow wide, “Do you think you’ll be okay? If it seems too much, you don’t have to.”

You see the immense amount of relief flooding through her features, your sole suggestion bringing an array of hope you think Yeong Hee has desperately needed.

“It’s okay.” You persuade, “I can look after her for a week. You and Namjoon just promise me you’ll go out and worry about yourselves instead of the baby for once.”

Tears begin to well up in Yeong Hee’s eyes, and she launches herself at you, embracing you into a huge hug right away.

“Thank you Y/N! Thank you so much!”

You softly smile, happy that you were able to alleviate her troubles somehow.

Yeong Hee soon leaves after asking if she could cook you dinner one time for your offer, but you refuse and say that you don't want anything in return for this. A handful of thank you’s and gracious hugs on her behalf later, you close the door behind her as she rushes back home.

You spin around, slapping a hand against your stressed temples as a deep groan leaves your lips ‒ because there’s one crucial fact you’ve conveniently decided to leave out from Yeong Hee’s knowledge.

You’ve accepted to take care of her baby for a week, even after being aware of how much you despise kids.

***

You open the door to your apartment.

There’s a dark-haired man leaning against your door frame, his bangs sweeping across his forehead and arms crossed against his broad torso. A small smirk rests on his lips, pouty lips pulled into a sneaky grin that already informs you of what kind of remark he’s aching to spew.

“Did someone order an extra handsome boyfriend to come to their rescue?” He bats the eyelashes of his innocent orbs, his level of confidence instantly spiking up.

“Really?” You ponder, mimicking his innocence. Taking a glance outside of the door and behind him, you turn to him in confusion, “Where is he then?”

A loud scoff leaves Seokjin’s lips and you playfully chuckle, widening the door for him. He follows after you after shutting the door, peering around the place.

“So what was this emergency situation you were telling me about?” He inquires, appearing confused from how normal things seemed to be.

“That is the emergency situation.”

You point to the little bundle resting on your couch, her orbs round and taking in her surroundings with great curiosity. At the mere mention of who exactly is the emergency, Seokjin immediately forgets everything and dashes straight to her.

“A baby?!” He immediately picks her up, cooing strange noises that you assume is normal. However the baby responds within an instant, glancing up at Seokjin with similar wide curious eyes.

A soft smile tugs on your lips, well aware that you called in the right person to assist you with the job.

“Whose is she?” Seokjin asks, spinning around with her in his arms.

“Yeong Hee’s.” You mention, “I’m supposed to take care of her for the week so that her and Namjoon have the chance to relax and spend time together.”

“Does she have a name?”

“Yeona.” You pronounce, the baby immediately fiddling her arms around as if she heard you. The small gesture earns a lop-sided smile from you, but Seokjin turns to you in confusion.

“Wait, you willingly wanted to take care of her baby?”

You sigh, “I know what it sounds like but Yeong Hee seemed so stressed. I don’t think I’ve seen her be completely calm since the wedding.”

Seokjin hums, “I’m completely clueless about babies though, which is why I called you over.”

“Well, there’s not much to them,” He explains, “They just have three basics ‒ eating, sleeping and cleaning.”

You nod, placing a hand underneath your chin. Even though you’ve just revealed to him that you’ll need to take care of her, Jin doesn’t seem stressed nor rattled with the news, which in turn grants you a sense of relief for the abrupt responsibility you’ve taken upon yourself.

“Have you ever done this before?” You wonder, noticing how carefully he holds Yeona.

“Take care of a baby?” You nod, “One time, my older brother actually had a hard time with his first born so I would just check in on his kids every now and then.”

“But that was more looking after them than being responsible for them.” Jin quickly points out from your relieved expression with a nervous smile, “So I’m still clueless on a couple of things.”

“That’s okay, it can be a learning experience.” You offer, heading into the direction of your room. “For now, just keep an eye on her while I go google what babies eat.”

Jin raises his eyebrows, “Yeong Hee didn’t tell you?”

“More like I didn’t ask.” You meekly confess, “I have some bottles of milk in the fridge from her, but she said that they’ve been trying to feed Yeona solid foods.”

He looks as surprised as you, “Babies can eat solid food…?”

You glance over your shoulder at him with a knowing smile, “Right?” Shaking your head at the thought, you start typing in multiple searches into your search bar. You’re instantly bombarded with different types of food and multiple articles referencing different age groups. Your eyes roam around the screen, alarmed with the volume of links.

Jin peers over your shoulder, his and Yeona’s wide eyes sweeping over the screen.

“People really like talking about their kids, don’t they?”

“Apparently because every single kid is different.” You let out a long regretful exhale, grabbing a piece of paper and a pen, “Looks like it’s time I actually do some of my own research.”

***

After spending loads of time trying to determine what is safe for Yeona to eat from the web, you and Jin ultimately decide that your bare fridge and devoid cabinets were probably not the best way to go about this.

Standing in an alley flooding with food, you glance around and spot Jin peering into one of the fridges with the trolley next to him. Yeona is in his arms, clearly distracted with her new surroundings as he gazes around.

Yeona for the most part, is an interesting child. She’s extremely calm and quiet aside from her natural curiosity, giving you hardcore suspicion as to if she was truly her mother’s child. She also clings to Jin non-stop, something you don’t really mind since it grants you some comfort that she’ll constantly be safe.

Walking up behind him, you steal a glance at the cool container, “Yogurt?”

Jin hums, “Didn’t you say she could eat small quantities of it?”

“Sort of.” You shrug, “Yeong Hee told me she’s roughly around nine months old now so maybe we should start off with the basics.” Scanning around the store, you attempt to locate the child friendly sections, “Like baby food and small snacks.”

“Not a bad idea.” He looks down at Yeona with a smile, who glances back at him in fascination, “Are you sure you don’t want to hold her?”

“Hm?” Your eyes fall onto Yeona, watching her curiously peer at you with even more fascination. She appears like any other baby would, with adorable squishy cheeks and hands the size of your one finger. The longer you stare at her, the more you can start to see the resemblance she has with her parents, her smile being on par with Namjoon’s dimpled one and her bright brown eyes reminding you of her mother’s when they perk up with excitement.

Nonetheless, a shiver runs down your back. “Nah….I’m good.”

Jin understandably nods, following you to the shelves aligned with various amounts of baby food. Skimming over the titles, you’re already wincing, pulling out one glass bottle filled with gooey amounts of dark green.

“Pea puree baby food?” You have to repress the urge to gag, “Why would they feed kids this?”

Jin takes the bottle from your hand, placing down Yeona to examine it, “Probably because they least expect it and it’s healthy for them.” He scrunches up his nose and hurriedly hands it back to you, “Still sounds pretty disgusting though.”

He laughs and you shake your head with a small grin. You start plucking out flavours that don’t sound as nearly as unappetizing and start handing them to Jin, who looks them over once before placing them into the cart.

“Okay, I think that should be enough for one week.” You let out a long sigh, overwhelmed with the new information being spewn at you. You’re about to tell Jin that you should look at some snacks for her as well, but your brows intensely contort once you catch sight of the trolley.

“Jin?”

“Yeah?” He’s looking at a pack of some garlic flavoured chips, a pout resting on his lips.

“Where’s the baby?”

His head snaps back at you, surprise emitting in his eyes. Then he spins around, his eyes becoming wider the more he realizes that the little human in the trolley has somehow gone missing.

You and Jin make instant eye contact, realization dipping within a flash before you’re hurriedly breaking apart and scavenging around to locate Yeona.

“She was just here a minute ago?!” You look between the two alleys, only garnering confused glances from nearby strangers.

“I could have sworn I put her in the trolley!” Jin professes, bumping into you halfway. An exhale leaves your lips, a hand running against your tensed temples.

You’ve only been with Yeong Hee’s baby for a day and you’ve already managed to lose her.

Great parenting, Y/N. 10 out of 10.

“Oh no.”

You whirl around at the sound of dismay Jin makes, coming straight into eye contact with Yeona.

On some lady’s leg.

“Oh my god.”

Jin rushes forward immediately, tugging the crawling baby up from the lady who seems at most confused from the sudden child’s appearance. He apologizes profusely to her, but she doesn’t seem to mind and tells him to just be careful next time.

“I had no idea she could crawl!” You whisper loudly to Jin, who is gasping from the earlier sprint he did at the sight of Yeong Hee’s child clinging to a stranger’s limb.

“Me neither.” He’s still panting so you offer up your arms to carry her, but Jin shakes his head.

“Just check out the food we have, so we can go back to your place.” He explains, “I don’t think it’s safe to have her here any longer after discovering how agile she is.”

You nod, a small smile on your lips as you grab your absent trolley. “Now that’s something she definitely shares with her mother.”

Jin sighs, “Let’s just hope she doesn’t share her father’s clumsiness.”

Your eyes widen, and he shares a knowing gaze with you.

***

Heading back to your apartment, you ultimately decide it would be best to take a shot at trying to feed Yeona for the first time. Propping her up onto a chair with a pillow, you grab a small spoon and a bottle of peach baby food.

You suck in a sharp inhale.

“You’re just feeding her Y/N.” Jin remarks in amusement, but the corner of your mouth twitches.

“After that little stunt in the grocery store, I’d better be careful.” Scooping up a mouthful with the spoon, you cautiously press it against her lips.

To your surprise, Yeona gobbles it up right away. You spin around and gawk at Jin, who shares your look of astonishment as she begins to flail her arms around, anticipating for more.

“Well that worked a lot better than I could have imagined.” Jin admits, so you try once again with more this time around. Yeona repeats the same action, her wide eyes following the motion of the spoon that lingers in front of her.

“Yeah…” You whisper surprised, repeating the action again. However this time you flinch when Yeona grabs onto the spoon in your hands, tossing it onto the ground and letting the bright orange splatter all over the ground.

A groan escapes you and you slump down onto the ground defeated, trying to clean up the mess. Jin gestures for you to keep feeding Yeona and that he’ll take care of it, but your next several attempts prove to be utterly futile.

Yeona flings the spoon the second time, but with a loud giggle coming from her lips. She then manages to grasp the bottle from your hands the third time, attempting to lick out the contents and getting them smeared all over her cheeks. When you try to clean up, she grabs onto the spoon you were holding and launches it straight for Jin’s head.

The latter manages to duck in time, but he presses a hand against his heart and stares at the child completely shocked.

“Is she trying to kill me?!”

You snort, but Yeona tries to grab the bottle again and you hurriedly swoop it up before she has the chance.

“I think eating is the last thing on her mind right now.”

“Here.” Jin advances forward, reaching his hands out, “Let me try.”

You hand the bottle to him and take a step back, hoping his actions will help things somehow. Although Yeona avoids the spoon whenever Jin tries to feed her, he manages to get successful by feeding her a large spoonful, something that has a smile of relief etching onto your features.

He subtly coughs over his shoulder and mumbles ‘Leave it all up to the handsome person in the room’. You roll your eyes with a lop-sided smile, expression softening when Yeona finally begins to eat like you had hoped.

It doesn’t last very long.

You’re suddenly back to square one when she starts avoiding the food again, but at this point she doesn’t try to grab it or spill something onto the ground for her own joy. She appears pale, delicate features twisting up and lips forming a pout.

You instantly reach out as Jin continues to try, “Wait Jin‒”

You’re too late.

Yeona opens her mouth and out comes something you wish had managed to stay in. Jin immediately staggers back, luckily not getting caught up in the array of spilled contents all over the ground.

“How did she….!?” Jin whirls around in disbelief, “We didn’t even feed her that much!”

You pinch your brows together, “I think I read something on the net about kids having weaker stomachs. It takes longer for them to digest food on average.”

“But what do we do now? She’s barely eaten!”

“I guess wait it out?” You suggest, suddenly realizing that Jin appears just as stressed out as you. Before you even have the chance to say something comforting, Yeona lets out a small sound.

It’s similar to a grunt, and you swivel to see her bottom lip starting to quiver. Your eyes instantly enlarge and soon there’s water welling up in her eyes, loud cries flooding into every room of your apartment.

“She’s crying?!” You exclaim, not quite understanding that the combination of her sudden regurgitation plus you and Jin being stressed had welcomed an uncomfortable atmosphere for her. The problem with this situation though, is the fact that you and Jin are clueless as ever and scrambling to do something to calm her down.

Jin staggers in front of her chair right away, flailing his arms around and making silly pouty faces at the baby. He manages to capture the young girl’s attention with some of them, drawing out her innate curiosity from her wet eyes with his cute expressions.

You’re baffled by his sudden range of expressions you had no idea he could pull, but then he brings out the iconic ‘peek a boo’ faces and there’s no possible way you can keep down your laughter.

“Hey, it works with my brother’s kid!” Jin protests in retaliation, but Yeona’s interest is broken with his voice and her cries only escalate in volume.

While Jin continues to bombard her with more ludicrous faces, an idea surfaces to your mind and you strut over to your fridge, fishing around for the bottles of milk Yeong Hee left you. You grasp onto one and locate the warmer she thankfully left behind, heating it up within minutes.

Since Yeong Hee said her and Namjoon have been trying to get Yeona to eat solid foods, your natural assumption is that she dislikes them and that trying to adapt to a new habit is as challenging for a baby as it is to an adult.

The bottle finishes heating up and you hurriedly dash over to Jin, who looks like he’s dangling between the fine line of exhaustion and completely losing it. His eyes spark up at the bottle’s appearance, and he uncaps the top right away, testing it on his palm.

“Oh.” Your eyes light up in recognition, having forgotten the last crucial step Yeong Hee had taught you before leaving. Jin places the bottles against Yeona’s lips, and she gladly accepts, cries subsided and her eyes become drained.

You and Jin let out a simultaneous sigh.

Luckily, Yeona finally calms down. Her bright eyes stay to lull with time and her hands start to droop down from the bottle, so Jin takes the opportunity to put her down on the cradle in your room. He eventually returns after a moment, slumping down onto the couch next to your sagging self.

In a short and sweet way of saying it, both of you are utterly exhausted. It seems that every decision you need to make has to have careful consideration and some form of prior knowledge, two areas that you have absolutely no control over and are greatly lacking.

“Maybe this is what it’s like being a parent.” Jin remarks, “I don’t think I ever used to see my brother or his wife properly relax since having their kid.”

“Damn, you’re right.” You muse. It all makes sense now, why Yeong Hee always appears so battered and fatigued, why so many of your conversations would derail about how her child was doing and more so, to how she was doing. You didn’t give it much thought before at the time, but it seems like your time with Yeona is going to greatly change all of that.

***

After some constant pestering and encouragement, you convince Jin that sleeping on the couch for the night wasn’t a good idea for getting proper rest. Truthfully, you find that he’s extremely drained like you, not one of his familiar dad jokes surfacing up when he watches Yeona in her cradle with tired eyes.

You collapse onto the bed with him, eyes fluttering shut and mind begging for sleep.

A sharp cry breaks through the silence of the night.

Your eyes instantly wench open and you spring up, startled to the core from the sound. Your clouded vision looks around until you can locate your clock, the numbers 3:04 am being a friendly reminder of what stage of REM sleep you must have entered. Taking a deep sigh, you pull back your deranged hair and try to shuffle out of the bed.

A hand stops you, “W-What happened?”

“Don’t worry, it’s just Yeona,” You remind him, “Go back to sleep, I’ll take care of her.”

Jin mumbles what you assume to be a low thanks and you get out of the bed completely, peering down into the cradle. Tears stream down Yeona’s eyes and her cries are oddly high in frequency, making you lean down and slowly pick up.

Truthfully, you’re not even sure if you're holding her properly as your arms stick out in front of you, but you know that you need to calm her down as soon as possible and not ruining any of your boyfriend’s sleep in the process is probably preferred.

Setting her down carefully on your couch, you attempt to figure out what’s wrong.

“Did you have trouble sleeping?” You whisper, as if Yeona can understand you, “Are you hungry again?”

She continues to cry and your frustration increases as you fist your hair into bundles. You are so, so tired and nearly on the verge of falling asleep on the ground that your brain has no clue how to process what she needs properly.

That’s when you catch a scent of a new smell wafting through the air.

Instantly, you snap up and dash into your room, grabbing onto the bag Yeong Hee had given you. You rip it open within seconds, hands searching around until they come into contact with a feathery cotton material.

Your mouth puckers as you twist and turn the diaper around, squinting your eyes through the dark. Taking a second look inside the bag, you search around for a manual or anything Yeong Hee could have left behind in exchange for figuring out how to work the straps around. You decide ultimately that taking your best shot at it would be the way around and you orient the material around Yeona, tossing her old diaper out for the one in your hands.

It takes about ten minutes for you to finally get it on and ensure it won’t come off, but in that duration Yeona cries have spiked up, ringing through your ears as the tears wouldn’t stop pouring out from her tender eyes. You eventually have to let out a deep exhale once she calms down, rubbing your sore eyes before heading back to your room.

Once you reach your bed, you collapse down, exhausted beyond belief.

***

You’re woken to the scent to the scent of pancakes and eggs the next morning. Hauling yourself up the bed, you’re greeted by Yeona and Jin in the kitchen together, the latter holding the baby and attempting his best to feed her.

Plopping down onto a chair, you muse about the dark circles underneath his eyes, “Looks like someone got off on the wrong side of the bed.”

Jin cracks out an amused smile, “I’m surprised you think I’m the only one.”

It’s not too soon when a yawn passes by your lips, serving as a reminder of the eventful night the three of you ended up sharing. After you had changed Yeona and fallen asleep with the hope of getting some shut eye, the mayhem had only begun two hours later. Jin had gotten up this time and tried his best to calm Yeona down, but her cries could be heard through the apartment and kept you wide awake. Luckily he returned once you were about to get up to offer some help, but the moment he fell asleep with you, the vicious cycle continued once again.

More crying. More not knowing what to do. More loss of sleep.

You and Jin had tried your best to alternate as much as you could, but your efforts ultimately didn’t end up paying off when you had both woken up this morning still looking like zombies.

Letting out a sigh from the ill recollection, one of your eyebrows perks up once you smell the air.

“Hey, Jin.” You ponder, watching him look up at you after successfully feeding Yeona a spoon.

“Hm?”

You sniff the air again, this time eyes widening, “Is something burning?”

Jin instantly whirls around, long forgotten those crucial moments he was trying to feed Yeona and heads straight for the stove. You peer behind him when he groans, the lovely view of burnt pancakes and eggs greeting your eyes immediately.

He pouts, “That was supposed to be our breakfast….”

You take another glance at the pot and wince. “How about you just take care of Yeona for now and I’ll make something for us.”

He dumps the contents into the garbage, attempting to scrap one burnt piece of egg off the pan. He lets out a sigh, shoulders slumping down in defeat as he decides to just let the pan sit in water for a while.

His eyes suddenly perk up and he whirls around.

“What if we just went outside and got some fresh air?”

***

At Jin’s suggestion, you decide to have a picnic. You were at first wary with the idea, unsure if you were really in the mood for going to the park after a horrendous day and sleep-deprived night, but he manages to convince you that the activity will be beneficial for all three of you, especially Yeona.

Which is why you’re currently sitting on a red and white checkered blanket and leaning against a tree while watching Jin dress up Yeona in a baby flower sun hat.

“There we go!” He turns to you in excitement, “What do you think? Doesn’t she look cute?”

You don’t get a chance to offer an opinion because the hat slips off and Yeona continues to gaze around as if she hadn’t just knocked off five minutes of precious hard work from Jin. He attempts to get it back onto her again, but it continues to fall off.

“It did look nice before it fell off her head.” You agree to comfort him, but he manages to get it right this time, and he turns to you with the same look of excitement (with an addition of bags underneath his eyes).

“Ta-dah! Protected from the sun and looks like an adorable angel!” Jin’s enthusiasm draws a smile from you and Yeona seems to reciprocate, wiggling her arms and staring at him with fascinated pupils.

You enjoy the light breeze as Jin plays around with Yeona, but her eyes soon begin to flutter close and before you know it, she’s falling asleep in his arms. Both of you decide it would be best if she could get some sleep, but after an hour of no response from her, Jin starts to grow dismayed.

You snort, “We went out for her, but she completely ko’ed on us.”

“I’m sure she’ll wake up soon.” He stares at Yeona in high hopes, but you wave him off.

“She’s probably as tired as us from yesterday.” You lean over to grab a packed sandwich, unwrapping it from the plastic. Letting out a long sigh, you catch Jin’s attention, “How did Yeong Hee even manage to do all this…?”

He cranes his head to the side, “What do you mean?”

You gesture to Yeona, “This. Taking care of a baby and trying to enjoy her marriage at the same time.” You shrug, “It just seems like so much work to me.”

Jin knowing laughs, “I’m assuming this is probably not helping you with wanting kids, right?”

“Far from it, actually.”

He narrows his eyes, “Can I ask you something?”

You hum, “Why did you even agree to this? You’ve hated kids longer than I can remember.”

“Well, Yeong Hee sounded like her and Namjoon haven’t had the chance to relax.” You explain, “I wanted her to be happy.”

Jin nods, like that much he had already guessed. However, you go on to continue, “And well…. I’m the godmother.”

His eyes widen and your gaze falls onto Yeona, still sleeping in his arms, “I figured I should at least get to know her properly, and since Yeong Hee gave me this responsibility, then I should be able to take care of her when Yeong Hee’s having a hard time.”

“But things definitely didn’t go the way I expected.” You reminisce, “I didn’t realize there was so much to it and how devoted you have to be.”

“I agree with you on that.” Jin acknowledges, letting out a small chuckle as if the past couple of incidents had really sent him down a whirlwind. After spending some time in the park with Yeona snoozing away, you and Jin eventually end up heading back with only one single thought in mind.

How are you going to do this for a week?

***

Within moments of returning to your apartment, you are pooped. This results in you spending the rest of the evening with Jin in a dire attempt to bring some normalcy from constantly running around yesterday, but you still find yourself considerably paranoid as you consistently check in on Yeona to make sure she’s okay. Jin does so as well, but eventually night falls and you know the two of you are extremely desperate for a long night’s rest.

“Y/N.” Jin whispers, shaking your shoulder, “Y/N.”

“Mhm?” You incoherently mumble, peering through your squinted eyes to gaze at his face. Jin lets out a sigh, shaking your form once more.

“Y/N, wake up. You fell asleep on the couch.”

You wave him off, finding too much comfort in the pillow you’ve managed to snatch up from the sofa, “It’s fine, just leave me here.”

He chuckles, but he suddenly presses his hand against your back and under your legs, lifting you up in an instant. You jolt immediately, scrambling to grab support onto something, before finding purchase in securing your arms around his neck. It’s a bit ironic as he carries you to your bedroom, since you’re probably the last person who needs to be babied in the apartment.

Plopping you down on the mattress, the tiredness in your bones immediately seeps away and you flutter your eyelids close, sleep grabbing a hold of you in an instant. You can feel the other end of the bed dip for a moment and assume Jin has decided to call it a day after settling Yeona down to sleep.

The comforting silence in your apartment lulls you until you plunge into a deep sleep.

***

A sharp cry breaks through the walls.

You jolt in your sleep, drooping eyes cracked with red being wide open and frozen in your position. Another cry resonates through the room, but this time it grows quieter and you mentally pray that it was a mere spur of the moment, nothing more to drag you away from the sweet remains of sleep your body is begging for.

It’s accompanied by several other acute cries.

With a low groan, you roll out of the bed, not even bothering to glance at Jin who’s busy snoring away in his own dreamland. Hovering over the cradle, you quickly inspect Yeona, calmly hushing her as to not wake the only person in the room that’s still asleep. Noticing that she didn’t need to be changed, you head over to the kitchen swiftly and grab a bottle from the fridge.

After heating the bottle to the right temperature and placing a portion of it on the base of your palm, you rush back to her and place it at her bottom lip. Yeona turns away from you, her cries increasing in intensity.

Frowning, you try again only for her to completely roll away from you this time, ultimately reasoning that she doesn’t want to be fed. You attempt to pull up the blanket Jin had placed on her, but she continues to sway around giving absolutely no response to your actions and persistently crying.

You’re beginning to grow desperate. It isn’t her diaper, she’s not hungry, and she’s not cold. That means you have the only choice to resort to a different means of matter.

Widening your eyes, you pinch your cheeks and spread them apart, pushing your tongue out. You know you’ve called Jin out about it already, but at this point you need to stop the insufferable cries flooding your apartment by the minute.

Yeona doesn’t even notice.

Thick tears are continuing to roll down her cheeks, eyes remaining glossed over. A patch of hair is fisted within your palm, knees bending down in exasperation when your brain is losing its function more as time passes and you don’t understand what she needs.

A warm hand places itself on your shoulder, causing you to swirl around with misery leaking into your eyes.

“Sorry for waking you.” You admit, having the false hope that you could’ve at least figured this out on your own. Jin shakes his head, clearly just as tired as you.

“We’re in this together.” He comfortingly says, stepping up to glance at Yeona, “Have you tried checking her?”

You nod, “I’ve checked her, tried feeding her and tried to cover her.” A long sigh leaves your lips, “I even pulled out a silly face too.”

Jin spins around, gazing at you in surprise, “Really?”

You solemnly sigh again, “Really.”

“Well, let’s see…” Jin hovers over her cradle, attempting to calm her down by making cute noises and widening his eyes. You plant yourself against the wall, shoulders slumping down further into defeat as Yeona’s cries seem to only increase in intensity. There’s a certain wail that gets to you, snapping your fine control of patience after having another decent night of rest snatched away from your clutches.

“What’s wrong?” You plead, questioning the crying baby as if she can answer you. “Just tell me, give me a signal, anything.” Voice slightly cracking and eyes glossing over, you wonder how long it’s going to be until you join her in her crying fit. “What do you need, Yeona??”

“Y/N...” Jin immediately tries to intervene, understanding your frustration. He places a hand on your shoulder, attempting to get you to back away. “You need to calm down, we can’t figure this out if you keep asking her questions like that.”

“But I am calm!” Although your words suggest it, Jin already knows the sleep deprivation is beginning to take its toll. At the sound of both of your tones, Yeona bursts into more tears, startling you. “Oh no, Yeona…”

You drop your voice down into a soothing one, abruptly plucking the baby up from her cradle in a dire attempt. Even though her high-pitched sobs threaten to make your ears bleed from the proximity, Yeona soon lets out a quiet hiccup much to your own surprise.

You can only stare at Jin with a dropped jaw as Yeona settles her head against your shoulder, her small hands tightly fisting onto the material of your shirt. She sniffles a couple more times and squirms around a bit, but it’s right before she finally settles down and welcomes sleep in your arms.

The apartment falls into a comfortable silence after a period of absolute chaos, the baby in your arms appearing more content than you have ever seen her.

“Way to go, Y/N!” Jin cheers, peering at Yeona over your shoulder.

“T-Thanks…” You mumble half-heartedly, taking occasional glances to confirm Yeona was still asleep on you. You attempt to rock her back and forth, eyes widening when a small yawn slips by her lips, and she nestles in closer to you.

Unconsciously, a soft smile makes its way to your lips.

***

“Morning.” You walk behind Jin into the kitchen, rummaging around the fridge for something to eat. Yeona is in his arms, bright eyes glancing around in contrast to yesterday’s sudden storm.

“Morning.” Jin replies with a smile, tiling his head to the side, “You seem well rested.”

You smirk, “For once.” Walking over to him, you lean down to poke Yeona’s cheek, “But this one appears to missing her mom more than I thought.”

“Hopefully her and Namjoon got to enjoy their mini vacation.” Jin exhales, carefully pushing Yeona up in his arms when she begins to slip. “They became parents a little fast, don’t you think?”

You shrug, “Yeong Hee was pretty excited to start a family of her own, but I don’t think she was completely ready to have kids after she found out she was pregnant at their honeymoon.” A long exhale passes by you, a crease forming between your brows, “You know, I did say that her and Namjoon should seriously consider their options before having kids.”

Jin playfully smiles, “Are you sure that wasn’t just you warning your friend about the woes of having children?”

“That’s‒…” You pout and Jin’s smile widens, knowing that he got you with that point. “You know what I mean, they should have waited it out before deciding to create a miniature version of themselves,” You scrunch up your nose, “One that at least didn’t make them want to cry with her.”

Jin hums in agreement but a giggle breaks through your silence. Your eyes warily glance down, only to see Yeona peering at the two of you with a giant smile on her lips.

“Did she just laugh?” You question as Yeona brightly gazes at you.

“Maybe she agrees with you.” Jin offers, but you shake your head.

“I’m literally scolding her parents!” You lean closer, placing your hands on your knees and narrowing your eyes, “Did you know your mom set me up on a blind date once and the guy never showed up in the end?”

Yeona giggles again, this time clapping her hands together and you’re astounded, a smile working its way onto your lips.

“Hey, you have me now!” Jin pouts, making you snort.

“I don’t know what’s cuter, her laughing at my complaints with her mother or you getting offended from one blind date that never showed up, might I mention again!” You raise a finger at him in protest.

“Yeong Hee just wanted you to be happy too, that’s why she forced you to go on a date with me, remember?”

“Right, because she knew you were going to be her daughter’s future babysitter.” You sarcastically retort, leaning closer to Yeona. “Your mother’s kind of weird in some ways but I guess I snagged a real catch, huh?”

Yeona giggles again and you tenderly smile, affectionately poking her cheek. Jin on the other hand, is already smiling simply from watching you interact.

“Oh! If you’re responding to my complaints, I should try something.” You stand right in front of her, looking at the baby dead serious in the eyes, “I don’t really like kids.”

Something overcomes the baby, and she starts erratically waving her arms, like she wanted to be closer to you. Jin raises an eyebrow, cautiously lifting her closer to you as if he was giving you the chance to refuse. A small smile works on your lips and you hold onto her, watching her grow comfortable in your embrace.

You look up at Jin and he smiles at you, ecstasy on his features.

You suppose having Yeona around for a week wouldn’t be so bad.

***

Despite the fact that you didn’t know what to expect for the rest of the week in regards to Yeona, you’re surprised to find that time flies by faster than you know it and the pending day of her return is soon looming over you.

The past couple of days haven’t been much of a whirlwind. You and Jin found that you had started becoming used to the little bundle’s presence often and even possessed sense at times that you didn’t know existed there in the first place. Whether it was knowing when to feed Yeona and change her, to moments in the night where you found yourself automatically waking up to check in despite losing time on your clock for sleep. In many ways, her existence surprises you greatly, as you never knew that you could come so close to being this attentive after proclaiming your natural despise towards the little ones.

Regardless, all good things eventually have to come to an end and it’s a fact you have to inevitably accept when Yeong Hee is showing up at your doorstep once again, but this time with a warm smile on her face.

“Y/N!”

She immediately embraces you into a bear hug, something she hasn’t done in years. You’re puzzled by the action for a moment, frozen in place until you ultimately reciprocate and give her a smile.

“Nice to see you so cheery, Yeong Hee.”

She separates from you with a grateful look, “It was all thanks to you Y/N, you have no idea how much me and Namjoon needed this!”

You chuckle, “Believe me, I do.”

Yeong Hee glances around the apartment, her curious eyes inspecting around.

“Where is my little Yeona?”

You smile, pointing over to the couch where Jin is. He had ironically fallen asleep while rocking Yeona to sleep, so you decided it would be best not to disturb the two.

Yeong Hee plants her palms against her cheeks, hearts practically steaming from her eyes.

“Aw!” She slowly steps closer, a radiant smile on her lips. “That’s so cute.”

You hum in agreement and Yeong Hee spins around, shifting closer to you. “I know you didn’t want to have kids anytime soon, but…”

She points over to Yeona and Jin together with a soft smile, “If that man is able to bond with our child, then I think he’s definitely ready for anything coming his way.”

You chuckle at that, recalling how catastrophic both of you initially were around Yeona and freaking about the smallest of things that more parents would have found normal. However, that’s when you remember how things were once you’ve become familiar around her, your actions automatically reflecting her needs when you were just confused a couple of days ago.

Along with that, Yeona herself had seemed to take a particular liking to you.

“I know that’s what I said in the past, but I dunno.” You shrug, “Kids aren’t so bad.”

Yeong Hee immediately whirls around, gaping at you shell shocked. You raise an eyebrow at her blatant staring, only for her to murmur a sentence that has you laughing on the inside.

“Does this mean...my angel convinced you otherwise?”

“Oh she’s nothing but an angel,” You openly admit, pressing a finger to your lips, “She’s a lot more like her mom now I think about it.”

Yeong Hee laughs at that and you smile, your attention being drawn away when you notice Jin rising from your couch.

“Oh Seokjin!” Yeong Hee exclaims, “It's great to see you again!”

“Same to you.” Jin warmly smiles, before placing the now awake baby in her mother’s arms. Yeona’s eyes are open but she seems puzzled, as if confused as to what was going on.

“Hey Yeonie~ It’s mom!” Yeong Hee coos and Yeona’s eyes are still tracing over her features. You peer over her shoulder, a remark instinctively making its way to your lips.

“Maybe she just hasn’t seen you so relaxed instead of stressed out for once.”

Yeong Hee frowns at you, but Yeona lets out a loud giggle. Yeong Hee stares at the baby in her arms baffled, whirling around to face you.

“You made her laugh!” You smile, nodding, “I’m impressed, Y/N!”

An embarrassed chuckle leaves you, “I guess she I’m not as bad as I thought around kids.”

“Well, I think you did an excellent job.” Yeong Hee envelopes you into a giant hug, a smile reappearing on your lips when Yeona giggles again.

Yeong Hee says goodbye and eventually departs contently, leaving you and Jin alone together in the apartment.

He nudges your shoulder, “Hey, I heard you guys talking.”

You turn around to face him, and he sways back and forth, eyes gleaming, “Do you think...maybe not now, but in the future,” He quickly clarifies, “The idea of having kids isn’t too far…?”

A soft smile makes its way to your lips, “It isn’t.” Jin immediately perks up, a giant smile breaking onto his features.

“But.” You wave a finger at him, stopping him in his tracks, “After taking care of Yeona this past week, I definitely need some off time before considering the idea.”

“Oh, I’m so with you on that.” Jin exhales, “Let’s think about it when we’re actually ready.”

You warmly smile, “Deal.”

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