#mr obrien this is such a Look

[nathanialhowe]

downton abbey sucks so much. it is genuinely terrible. they cant have irish radical tom branson on screen for more than 3 minutes because they dont understand how communism works and dont want to critically examine the monarchy. they dont know what to do with thomas because they dont know how to write a miserable gay cunt. they dont even know o'brien mrs patmore and mrs hughes are lesbians. they cant go one minute without saying the aristocracy is actually nice btw. but i cant look away.

#GODDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD #personal #delete #its awful but i cannot look away. #in my mind obrien and thomas got into a lavender marriage to one up mr bates and anna in s1 or whatever #and seasons 2 through 6 are them dealing with cohabitating

[thegeminisage]

ok! it's star trek update time. last night we watched ds9's "paradise" and tng's "thine own self."

paradise (ds9):

this episode was an exercise in correctly predicting vibes. first it was "oh she has vibes" and she did. then it was "she crashed this spaceship herself" and she did. and then it was "this crazy bitch watches fox news" and LO, SHE MENTIONED ANCIENT EARTH RELIGIONS,

sisko in the box was HORRIBLE!!!! i dont know how obrien held back truly. i loved his action hero moments though he really is so much fun

AND sisko nearly got a close enocunter of his own...i wanted more sisko content but not quite like this. please treat him really niceys or at the very least don't put him in a box that was so dehumanizing

i can't believe in the end everybody was just like...yeah lets stay here even tough she let all those people die needlessly when she had the power to save them 🥰 it kind of ruins it, like, there's no fucking consequences??

in fact, humans are totally allowed to start colonies like this with no tech WITH CONSENT. she could have found other like-minded nutjobs and done all of this totally above-board

guy from spn hollywood babylon was in this ep.

thine own self (tng):

I WANTED AMNESIA DATA BUT NOT LIKE THIS!

girl him not knowing what "radioactive" meant even though he remembered concepts like "cellular degeneration"...this is literally why we have the "this is not a place of honor" project and you're telling me they havent nailed that shit by the 2300s?

deeply distressing to watch everyone touch the metal until about halfway through the episode when we remembered this was tng and they'd probably bullshit a cure. which they did do, but it was still distressing to watch. he gave that whole village cancer

AND THEN GOT HATE CRIMED...his head was very fun to look at after his skin got torn off but geez.

i absolutely loved this woman scientist. instead of screaming and running away from him she promptly assigned him iceman at birth and went on about her life. big "that guy has horns oh well not gonna ruin my day" energy. and i mean considering the state of science in her society she was doing pretty good to work with what she had

once again, data is dead and buried. but they exhumed him just like they exhumed beverly nana. his android body has gotta be so old by this point...

"jayden" as data's fake name gave me fits because of course im thinking of mr fbi from heavy rain. been awhile.

i did NOT like the b-plot of this episode. deanna doing badly on the tests until she ordered geordi to die sucked and riker being so harsh with her sucked. i think the lesson was that deanna should have been willing to go in herself and die, although i guess she's not skilled enough to make the repairs. still it feels weird that you can just order someone to die like...geordi's brave and he'd do it but what if he didn't want to? then what? nobody thought this through

if i ordered geordi to die in the holodeck i would never be able to look him in the eyes (or visor, whatever) ever again

however the women on this show did get to talk repeatedly about stretching themselves so there is that i guess

TONIGHT: ds9's "shadowplay" and tng's "masks."

#personal #star trek blogging #ds9 lb #tng lb

[holywoter]

why does he look like a gay grandpa talking to his bullshit boomer children

#liam obrien #mr obrien this is such a Look #critical role #Caleb widogast

[lovinthosecrits]

I'm replaying DA:O and guys. Playing the mage origin (again), and let me tell you when I heard Mr. Liam O'Brien's voice?? Honey. Just about spit out my coffee. I knew Laura played them all and voiced in Inquisition, but I was not expecting my other favorite to just... Be Niall. Just a dude, being a mage.

#i knew they were all like a bigger part of my childhood when i started looking them up #but somehow this just totally rocked me?? #amazing #mr liam obrien you're still my favorite #liam o'brien #dragon age #dragon age origins #cr cast #(also i started saying honey and in that particular voice that Ally Beardsley does?) #laura bailey

[wellsbering]

i started watching ds9 with no knowledge of who o'brien is other than he's an engineer, he's married to keiko, and he was on tng at some point

and when he first spoke i didn't even realize it was him talking bc he just looks???? he looks nasally and midwestern. i don't know how else to explain it. yes his name is o'brien but somehow i did not expect him to have a irish accent because he looks like he works in a grocery store in indiana. he looks like he sang second tenor in high school and that's the lowest his voice ever got. he looks like he should be a background character in back to the future. he looks like he should have the pitch of scotty's voice but the accent of literally everyone on parks and recreation. he looks like he should be jerry on parks and recreation. younger space jerry. young space jerry with a hint of george mcfly. that's what i expected to hear when this man opened his mouth

#my posts #HE LOOKS MIDWESTERN IDK HOW ELSE TO EXPLAIN IT #st #st: ds9 #ds9 #deep space nine #deep space 9 #miles o'brien #star trek #star trek: deep space nine #star trek: ds9 #sorry to roast you mr obrien but im right #all this being said i DO like him he's smart and chaotic as all engineers should be

[kissingagrumpygiant]

imagine telling me to stop watching something that has been a part of my life for 5 years just bc i dislike a current plot point and am vocal about it in a funny haha way just for laughs. embarrassing could not be me 

#the cr cast is not looking at me untagged posts on my private blog about their lil ships i PROMISE you that #maybe liam is here on his secret tumblr hello mr obrien sir give me a sign if i hurt yalls feelings over the fictional ships :( #ariel talks #cr disk horse

[blackberryjam]

fmk; dylan o brien zendaya emma watson

i would kill dylan obrien for lesbian reasons & i would neither marry or fuck zendaya & emma watson for aroace reasons <3

#THIS COMBINATION OF PEOPLE FJDJSKFBJSJ LIKE ?? WHY THEM #i barely know who any of them are <3 #also im having flashbacks to 14y/o me with extreme gender envy for mr obrien here #i was like oh is this what it’s like to have a celebrity crush ?? #but the answer was no u r just gay and u want to look like him #god. i was wrong but also i lowkey still understand

[mollygetssherlockcoffee]

Day 22, Mirror with Bucky Barnes

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Day 22, Mirror with Bucky Barnes

Warning: smut, mirror sex

Words: 589

A/N: MINORS DNI! Thank you to @give-me-a-moose for beta reading. Please LIKE and REBLOG!

KINKTOBER Masterlist Masterlist Permanent Taglist

A heavy cry was ripped from your chest, your heart beating rapidly against your ribs. Your hands gripped the rope which tied you to the bed. Your eyes opened, meeting the dark orbs of your reflection.

You moaned at the sight.

The mirror allowed a perfect view of the bed, giving you a perfect view of everything. Bucky’s head was buried between your legs, his strong arms wrapped tightly around your thighs as he feasted on your pussy.

The sight, coupled with the slurping sounds of him licking up the juices leaking from your clenched walls, along with the feeling of his tongue pushing at your poor hole… the feeling was intense, pushing you to the edge of no return in a matter of moments.

You cried out as the damn burst, the coil snapping and electricity shooting throughout your body. Your legs shook in his grasp, your hips thrusting at the intensity. He moaned at the taste of you as he cleaned you with his tongue, not letting a drip escape.

He kissed his way up your body, pausing to suck on the underside of one of your breasts before tugging on the nipple of the other breast with his teeth. The sharp pain pulled a small squeal from you which soon turned into a needy moan.

He continued his way up your body, sucking bruises into your neck. You turned your head, allowing him more access.

His hands held your thighs, pulling your hips to his. He took his cock in hand, smacking his tip against your clit. A moan left both of you. Moving onto his knees, he pushed himself inside of you. A cry left you as you stretched around him, your hands gripping the rope which tied you to the bed while your back arched.

His hips thrust to meet yours. He leaned over you, his forearms rested on the bed on either side of your head. You could feel his laboured breath against your ear, hear his grunts and he took you apart.

“Keep your eyes open for me, baby, look at that mirror,” Bucky instructed. You hadn’t even realised that you had closed your eyes. You quickly opened them again, eyes meeting those of your reflection. “Watch me fuck you, watch how good you take me.”

The muscles of his back moved deliciously as he thrusted to meet your weak movements. Your hips attempted to add more to the delicious recipe of your entanglement. The beside lap glinted off of Bucky’s metal arm and shined in the mirror. His ass, a perfect peach that you loved to bite, clenched rhythmically as you pushed into you.

It was an intoxicating sight. Watching yourself be taken back by such a man was always something which pushed you quickly to the edge. And this time wasn’t anything different. Your walls quivered and squeezed around him, the fire in your belly burning.

“Come for me, baby,” he told you.

Your walls clenched around him as the burning in your belly spread throughout your body. You cried out as your release took over, unable to keep your eyes on the reflection above you. Bucky moaned loudly in your ear, crying out your name as his cock shot ribbons of cum deep inside of you.

“That’s my good girl,” Bucky praised, pressing a kiss to your temple before pulling out, falling on the bed beside you. His metal fingers stroked your side, “I’ll let you rest for a moment, baby, don’t worry… But I’m not done with you yet.”

Permanent Tag List: @buckyzwhore @tripletstephaniescp @xoxabs88xox @tenaciousperfectionunknown @draw-back-your-bow @sammypotato67 @sskhair @kittenssss-blog @hallecarey1 @thegirlnextdoorssister @waywardwifey

Kinktober Tag List: @fics4arainyday @doxysarah92 @wakingbeauty @marygut1407 @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @lifeofrileyp @marziwritesfic @nomajdetective @honeybuckybarnes @thicccsimp @baby-banana @stucky-my-ship @harrysthiccthighss @doasyoudesireandlive @lifes-history @mrs-obrien

Marvel Tag List:@stardust-galaxies

#mollygetssherlockcoffee's kinktober 2021 #kinktober 2021 #kinktober #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky #marvel #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #the winter solider smut #the winter solider x reader #the winter solider imagine #the winter solider fanfiction #day 22

[httphopewrld]

I Don’t Know What to Call This | (f/m/a)

Just Friends? Friends with benefits? Dating? Questions swarmed your mind when one of your dear friends, Allie, asked about you and Hoseok’s relationship. The truth was you didn’t know. You and Hoseok were close, knowing each other since elementary school, and considered each other friends. However, as you two grew older, maturing into separate professions—you a well-known fashion designer, and Hoseok a famous musician and dancer—you two had engaged in some intimate activities (sex—lots of it.) After Allie’s simple question, you had to confront your feelings. But were you and Hoseok ready to be more than close friends and f*ck buddies?

Pairing: friend/lover/bfhoseok! x female reader

Genre: slowburn fluff and SMUT

Rating: 18+ because there’s swearing and pretty detailed smut

Warnings: swearing and SMUT (one of the most detailed smuts I've written, and there's more than one sex scene.) Smut includes: switch!reader and switch!hoseok, grinding and thrusting, protective sex (USE CONDOMS, I cannot stress that enough), lots of kissing, ass-grabbing, dirty talk, a wee bit of choking on both sides, squirting, male and female oral, fingering and handjobs, vibrator use, cyber-sex, the reader uses dildo, slight degradation, and just lots of filth—YOU'RE WELCOME FELLOW FILTHY ANIMALS. Oh, and spoilers for the horror movie Hush. It's on Netflix if you haven't watched it yet. It is GOOD.

  Word Count: 16, 465 (wowie)

A/N: Thank you for waiting! It’s rushed, so expect some little mistakes here an there, but I’m happy with how it turned out. I hope y'all enjoy it! Also, Y/L/N means "your last name."

  Taglist: @kirbykook​ @kleritata​ @taestannie​ @jenotation​ @hemmos-obrien​ @zeharilisharaban​ @speed-of-wind​ @kawaisoraya​

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

“You can move those over there,” you gestured to the left corner of the windowed room, where a pile of boxes waited. The move was going to take longer than you expected because the movers arrived a week later than your assistant, Rachel said. I really need to talk to her about this. You stressed in your mind, rubbing your temples. “Are you okay?” You looked up, vision resuming its focus on your friend, Allie. Allie, your friend for as long as you could remember, offered to help you move to your new building. She would help you manage everything, including the movers, tracking your company's items, and the layout you gave to her for said things while managing the company. “I’m just irritated at Rachel,” you noticed her confusion, “my new assistant.” She nodded, remembering, “Right. Why is she still employed?” “Because she’s new, and being an assistant is a tough feat. She’ll get it soon.” You reassured, “Rachel is a fast learner, and this is her first mistake. We’re prepared for the next show, though, because Westley's helping me organize it.” “Remind me who Westley is?” Allie asked. You sighed. “West is like my second brain. He helps organize the fashion shows, hire the models, find the venues, and secure the guest list. He has other people help him too, but he’s the brains of that. I create the fashion, and he finds a way to present it.” Allie nodded, “Gotcha.” Your phone rang, and you answered. “Y/N.” “Y/N!” Rachel chimed on the other end. “It’s Rachel. I’m so sorry about the mix-up on dates. It won’t happen again, I—” “I know it won’t, Rachel. You’re new, so I expected to slip up. I’ve gotten it taken care of,” you nudged Allie’s arm, and she smiled. “We’re luckily prepared for the next show in Vancouver, so you don’t have to worry about the mess up. All I need you to do now is make sure that my fabrics are coming in.” “Yes! They’ve arrived at the studio.” Rachel replied. "Fantastic. Thank you. That'll be all for now. Check on West if he needs anything." You ordered. “Will do, Y/N. Talk to you soon.” You hung up. The Vancouver show was in five months, giving you and your team enough time to design the clothes for the production and move to the new building. The show's theme was natural bodies of water and nature, a nod to Canada's landscape. The clothing catalogue would include various icy blue shades to represent waterfalls and warm emerald tones like flora and fauna. These colours would be encapsulated in elegant gowns and suits, worn by different body shapes, genders, and colours. The materials would be made from recycled fabrics from your previous shows and from your fellow artists. You were known for designing elegant attire, so it was best to keep to it. However, it was rare to see different sized, coloured, and gendered models on a runway; because of having to customize clothes to those models. Additionally, making clothes from recycled fabrics would be tough. “Okay,” you began, “I need to talk to my design team and plan out the gowns. Can I leave you here to deal with the movers?” Allie gave you a thumbs up. “Thank you,” you smiled, hugging her, “if you need anything, please call me or Rachel, or both. We’ll be back to help.” Before you left, a thought struck you. You turned around to face Allie. “I should just hire you.” She chuckled, “Why?” You scoffed, "Because you're here all the time!" You walked back to her. "Listen, you're the best manager I know. You can be my third brain. You already are, outside of work, so it would make sense." Allie seemed unsure. “I already have my job at Youth and Hope.” You grasped her hands. “You would be given a great wage, not just because you’re my best friend, but because you’re going to be busy with lots of work. You would be handling the management tasks, like West. You’d be given a good amount of vacation, trips for shows and meetings would be paid for—you could get that loft you always wanted downtown.” You wiggled your eyebrows, and Allie laughed. “Don’t I have to go through an interview process?” You brushed a hand through the air. “I can get someone to interview you and officially hire you. Once that’s done, you’ll start getting paid.” You checked your watch, and a quick rush of panic ran through you. “Shit, I’m going to be late. Consider it, alright! Let me know your availability, and we’ll schedule an interview!” “Okay!” She shouted back as you left. . . The coffee had become bitter. You weren’t sure if it was the roast or the fact that this was your fourth cup of the night. It had been a month since the fabrics arrived. Thanks to Allie, your friend and now employee, your move to the new building was complete; however, your designs weren’t translating as smoothly as you wish. "Fuck," you cursed, resting your head in your hands and rubbing your temples. The sketches waited in front of you—the measurements and ideas raking at your confidence. Your designs are redundant. You’ve done something similar last time.                                                                       Boring. Plain. You turned back to your mannequins, still bare. The theme was in your mind, and your design team reassured you that your sketches were fine, but it all felt fuzzy. “Y/N,” Rachel peered into the studio from the door, “there’s a gentleman here to see you.” “His name?” You asked, still looking at the mannequins. You heard footsteps retreat into the front lobby, then come back to the door. “Jung Hoseok?” You turned around, trying to contain your excitement. “Please send him in.” Rachel nodded, jogging back to the lobby. You heard a muffled “thank you” before heavy footsteps approaching your studio. Hoseok reached the doorway, beaming his signature smile. He wore acid-washed jeans, a baggy white sweater that matched his chunky light sneakers. His dark hair was slightly wavy and parted in the middle. A tote bag was slung over his shoulder. “Y/N!” He cheered, opening his arms wide. “Hoseok!” You replied, running into his arms and hugging him tightly. You couldn’t remember the last time you saw Hoseok—a year or two? “Fuck, how long has it been?” You asked him. He pulled away, thinking. “About six months?” Totally off. “Seriously, it felt longer than that.” You argued. Hoseok pulled out his phone and scrolled through his calenderer and photos. He made a ‘tsk’ sound. “Ah, see here,” he showed you a few photos of you two with his friends, who were also his bandmates, “six months ago, you joined us on tour for a couple days before coming back here. I have it also marked in my calendar.” He showed you the dates, which were marked with ‘💚Y/N’s visit💚.’ “Can Namjoon or Yoongi confirm this?” You crossed your arms. Hoseok mimicked your body language. “I can call them right now,” he challenged. You two stood in competitive tension. You succumbed. “You win this time, Jung Hoseok.” He playfully chuckled. You realized that Hoseok doesn’t live around here. “Wait, why are you in town. Shouldn’t you and the others be in Korea planning another album or something?” You speculated. “Our company gave us a month for vacation because we spent most of the year touring.” Hoseok sighed. “So, I decided to come to visit.” You hugged him again, happy to see someone who wasn’t your employee amidst this chaos of stress. “How long are you staying?” You asked, muffled against his chest. He paused. “Maybe a month?” You pulled away from him, shocked. “A month? Here? That’s all your vacation time.” “Yeah,” he replied, as if that wasn’t a big deal, “I didn’t want to travel to a bunch of places because the group and I have been doing that for almost a year—and it’s pretty chill in this area.” He sighed. “Besides, I don’t think many people would recognize me. The airport wasn’t busy, and I haven’t been swarmed by fans yet.” “Do you have a place to stay?” You asked. He nodded. “Yup! I’m staying at a fancy hotel. I got the suite at the top floor,” he made a gesture with his hand, indicating how high up his suite was. You playfully elbowed his side. "Wow, look at you, Mr. Famous. You can afford a top suite now. Are you sure you don't want to stay with me, though?” Hoseok dismissed your offer with a wave of his hand. “It’s alright, Y/N. Thank you, though.” He peered over your shoulder, “It looks like you’re busy anyway, so I think I’ll just stick to my suite.” He walked past you, over to the bare mannequins. “Are you preparing for that show in Vancouver that you told me about?” You nodded, relaying your theme and ideas to him. He smiled. “That sounds really cool,” he pointed to the mannequins, “but don’t you need some clothes for the show, then?” You rolled your eyes, chuckling at him for being a smart ass. “Yes, I do. I’m brainstorming some ideas right now, but I’m coming up with nothing. I have the design team coming in tomorrow with drafts, but I’d like to bring my own thing to the table, you know? I’m the main brain of this operation, and it’d be embarrassing if I come in with zilch.” You leaned against one of the tables, facing the mannequins. "The tough part is designing gowns that fit the right people, you know. Sure, you can make a collection of clothes, but they won't look good if they don't fit the models." You shook your head. "Maybe it's just tougher to design clothes for different bodies. I should just stick to one type of person and leave it at that." Hoseok walked up beside you, leaning against the same table and facing the figures. “Why don’t you find the models and then design the clothes?” You looked at him, surprised. “But wouldn’t that take a long time?” He crossed his arms, “Well, how many models would you need?” “We’re thinking around seventy. There’s going to be two changes within the show.” Hoseok nodded, and you could see him brainstorming. “Well, you have four months left, right? You and your team can make some drafts, cast the models, and finalize the ideas with said models. Which would take about a couple of months? You could do that while planning the show?” He paused, appearing to notice your hesitant expression. “Think about it. You’ve trained your team well enough to work on its own, right? That’s what you did for your last show, which was a success. You came in every day for a couple hours to make sure everything was in order, then focused on other things.” Hoseok grasped your hands. “You’re great at multitasking, so do it. It’s scary, but you can check on people every day to make sure everything’s alright.” You bit your lip, “I-I don’t know, Hoseok. That sounds like a lot of work—” “You did it last time, and it worked out just fine,” he gently squeezed your hands, “and I’m here for a month. I can help out whenever you need me. I’ll simply clean things up and fetch coffee if that’s what you need.” You laughed, “Like my intern?” “Yeah! I don’t know how to design anything or plan a fashion show, but I’ll do what I can.” He smiled. “You’re so much more than you think, Y/N, and if you need reminders, I’ll be here.” You smiled back at him, so grateful to have him here. “My god, you’re fucking sweet,” you scoffed, taking your hands out of his. Hoseok laughed. You pushed yourself off the table and faced him. “How did we even become friends?” You questioned. He actually gave it a thought. “You joined by dance club in elementary school, when no one else would.” He laughed so hard that he teared up. “I think we actually took club photos, and it was only you and I posing.” You laughed with him, remembering those days spent trying to breakdance to hip hop and presenting dance routines to your parents. “Yeah, that was before you joined that Music Academy in grade four, right?” He nodded, and you sighed, surprised you still remembered. Your mind came back to the present. “So, you’re actually okay with helping out?” You checked. “Why would I ask if I didn’t want to?” Hoseok replied. You tapped your index finger against your temple, “true.” “So, how much do you want?” Hoseok looked offended at your question. You chuckled. “Well, you’re going to work for me, so I need to pay you.” “It’s only just a month, though.” “Yeah, but—” “What about we see how much you have me do before you pay me?” He interrupted. “I might just have to fetch coffee, so you can just give me money on the spot.” You thought about it for a minute. Hoseok yawned. “This work talk is making me tired. Do you want to go out for dinner?” He looked around you, “Unless you have more work to do. I can always wait in the lobby for you to finish.” You brushed your hand through the air, “Nah, it’s okay. I’m pretty brain dead anyway. I need to be energized for tomorrow’s draft review.” Hoseok pushed himself off the table and clapped. “Awesome! Where do you think I’m taking you for dinner?” You bit your lip, trying to guess. “Sushi?” “Sushi it is!” He beamed. You grabbed your things and followed him out of the studio.

Both of you sat towards the back of the sushi restaurant, to Hoseok’s request. The waitress placed you two in a concealed booth, with drapes covering a small entrance.

You two had to take your shoes off before sitting down.

“Why did you say, ‘sushi it is?’” You asked, taking a sip of your water.

Hoseok opened his can of sprite, “What do you mean?”

“You asked where I thought you were taking me, I responded, and you said, ‘sushi it is!’” You reiterated.

He took a sip of his soda before responding, "It's a trick I learned from Instagram." He set his drink down. "You ask someone, 'where do you think I'm taking you for food?' dinner or whatever, and then take them to a place with that food. It's easier than asking 'what do you want to eat?' because people can't decide."

You nodded, making an ‘aaahhh’ sound. “Smart.”

You two caught up while eating your meals. Hoseok chatted about his bandmates and the tour, and you talked about your move to the new building.

Most of it was just adding more details about your lives because you two texted lots during the week and sometimes video chatted. You'd get to see Hoseok and his friends, and he'd get a view of your life on the other side of the world.

To others, it looked like both of you were dating. Both of your friends would tease, singing, "Y/N and Hoseok sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G." Many of his fans, ARMY, would theorize your friendship, pointing out the matching bracelets you two wore—which was later proved normal because Hoseok went live on Vlive making bracelets for his bandmates.

And you two would continually clarify that you two were strictly long-time friends. Nothing more.

Girls and boys can be friends. Simple as that.

You and Hoseok finished your meals. You two shared a few rolls and a bento box and were full.

“That was really good.” You commented, rubbing your stomach.

Hoseok chuckled, copying you, “I think I’m pregnant.”

You laughed, “Shut up! You’re so fit.”

“You’re right,” he replied, pulling up his sleeves and flexing his arms.

You both laughed as he flexed his muscles, which were significantly more prominent than your remembered. You were slightly jealous of his lean athletic figure.

And were gazing at it for too long.

“I don’t know about you,” Hoseok sighed, appearing to be tired from the food and flexing his muscles, “but I’m in the mood for some Ben and Jerry’s.”

Your eyes lit up. “YES.”

“Cookie dough with chunks?” You both said in unison.

You two erupted in laughter.

"I'll go play," Hoseok said, getting up.

You stopped him, “It’s alright,” you smiled, “my treat.”

Before you left the booth, you turned around and said thoughtfully, "But you're getting the ice cream."

Hoseok's expression conveyed the same seriousness as if a soldier on a mission.

He saluted you. “Copy that, Y/N.”

You saluted him back and left to pay.

The walk to Ben and Jerry’s was quick. Both of you were eager to share the tub of ice cream.

You ended up getting a chocolate chip cookie dough and a cherry Garcia pint, and two spoons to share. You both ate the ice creams with delight while walking back to your apartment building.

When arriving at your building, Hoseok handed you the cookie dough ice cream pint.

“What are you doing?” You asked while he gave you the closed pint.

He tilted his head to the side, confused. “What do you mean? I’m dropping you off at your place.”

You gave a shocked expression. “Dropping me off? We’re not even done our pints!”

“But you have work tomorrow. I don’t want to keep you up.” Hoseok stepped back towards the edge of the sidewalk. “I can catch a cab back to the hotel, don’t worry.”

You balanced the pints in one hand and used your other to grab his arm.

“You’re not going anywhere,” you said, pulling away from the curb and closer to your building.

Hoseok pulled his arm out of your grip. "Y/N, you need to be well-rested—"

“At least help me finish the ice cream.” You interrupted, holding up the pints that were now in both your hands, along with your spoon.

“We haven’t seen each other six months, and it’s only…”

Hoseok pulled out his phone. “Nine.”

“Exactly!” You expressed. “It’s only nine. I don’t need to be in until nine-thirty tomorrow morning. As long as you’re out by eleven, that gives me an hour to get ready for bed at twelve, and I will wake up at eight. Plenty of rest!”

You watched his unsure expression.

"If you don't want to go home at eleven, that's fine by me. Could you leave earlier? Or you can go back to your hotel if you want. I won't take offence; you know me." You held up your arms in surrender, ice cream pints still in your hands. "But if you're leaving because you're worried that I won't get enough sleep, don't. I'm a grown woman. I know how to take care of myself, and I want you to come in.

Hoseok bit his lip, appearing to debate the offer.

He sighed. "Fine, I'll come in. However, I don't want to get a text from you complaining about being tired in the morning."

“I swear,” you promised, pretending to draw an ‘x’ over your heart, “I cross my heart.”

Hoseok chuckled, and you led the two of you into your apartment building and into the elevator. You pressed the twentieth button, and you two waited in comfortable silence.

The elevator doors opened, and you two walked to your apartment.

You opened the door to your studio apartment, locking the door behind you two and hanging up your bag along with your keys.

“Want anything to drink?” You asked, setting down the ice cream pint in your hand and taking off your coat.

Hoseok set down the cookie dough pint on the coffee table. “Anything is alright, thanks,”

You hummed, getting both of you bottles of black cherry soda and bringing over the cherry Garcia pint and your spoon.

"Jesus, do you need help?" Hoseok asked with worry, seeing you holding the bottles by their necks in one hand and the ice cream pint and spoon in the other.

You chuckled, “It’s alright, just sit down.”

You two sat on the couch, twisting off the caps on your sodas and taking a sip.

Hoseok sighed. “That’s really good,” he gestured to the pop before putting it down on the coffee table.

“Yeah! They’re so addictive,” you replied, setting coasters under both of your drinks.

Both of you continued to reminisce about your childhood, especially middle school. The puberty years had been gruesome to you two, speckling your faces with acne.

You pulled out a photo album you kept on one of your bookshelves, which had pictures of your families and your younger selves—even photos when Hoseok was training, before debuting with BTS in 2013.

“Oh my god, look at you!” You gasped, showing him a picture.

In the photo, Hoseok arms were crossed over his chest, his attempt at having swagger. He wore a collared shirt, and his hair was short.

“Oh god, no,” Hoseok cringed, gently pushing the photo away.

You chuckled, "You were so adorable, always dancing and having a good time." You smiled. "You are such a hard worker, practicing so much. I remember you twisting your ankle but still practicing."

You looked at him tenderly. “I wish people could see that.”

Hoseok smiled back at you, softly touching your hand. You grasped his hand, feeling butterflies in your stomach.

He was the first to pull away.

“You remember our sleepovers?” He asked.

You giggled, "Yeah when you could leave that cramped place you shared with the boys."

He swatted your arm, “That apartment was good! It was where everything started.” He pouted. “Anyways, we would always look up deep questions to ask each other—or would you rather.”

You rolled your eyes. “Those questions were overrated.”

“I thought they were nice!” Hoseok defended. “We got to know each other more, like, ‘what is your biggest fear?’ or ‘what is your biggest pet peeve?’”

He must've seen your unimpressed expression because he continued, "You got to admit that you learned a bit more about me because of those questions!"

You sighed. “I did, I guess.”

Hoseok held up his index finger, seeming to signal ‘wait a minute.’

He pulled out his phone. “Let’s try some now, then.”

“Hoseok—”

“Come on,” he interrupted. “If you don’t learn anything new about me from the first four questions we do, then we can stop, alright? I will never bring up these questions ever again.”

You debated his offer.

“Fine.” You agreed, setting down the photo album. “Shoot.”

“Okay, but we both pick two questions and answer all of them. For example, when we ask a question, the other person answers before the picker.” Hoseok said while he scrolled.

You hummed, understanding his instructions.  

“Want to do would you rather?”

“Sure.”

"Sexy edition?" Hoseok wiggled his eyebrows. "Unless you're uncomfortable."

You scoffed. “Hobi, we're grown, adults. I can take a few sexual questions."

“Okay,” Hoseok replied, “but if you ever feel uncomfortable, we can choose another question or stop.”

You nodded, and Hoseok appeared to find what he was looking for.

“Alright,” he began, “would you rather bite someone’s ear during sex or bite someone’s lip during sex?”

This is pretty vanilla. You thought.

"Lip, for sure." You emphasized the 'sure' in your sentence, stringing along with the 'er' sound.

“Same,” Hoseok agreed while passing you his phone.

You took his cell and strolled through the website.

What do I choose? Do I just dive in, or go for the vanilla shit?

“Would you rather engage in foreplay or go right into the main course?” You asked.

Hoseok thought about it. “I would say foreplay. You can warm things up—and nothing is more fun than teasing.” He shimmied, making you two laugh.

You agreed, passing the phone to him.

“Oooo, here’s a classic,” he grinned, “top or bottom?”

“I think I’m a switch,” you replied.

He tilted his head.

“It’s like, you’re both, top and bottom. I like to take control sometimes, but I can also sub.” You explained. “You?”

“Top,” he replied, “for sure.”

You laughed, “You sound so against being a bottom.”

He laughed too. “I like pleasuring the person I’m having sex with. Nothing is more satisfying than making someone cum.”

“True,” you admitted.

You found your mind wandering to unholy memories of you and Hoseok. What was odd about your friendship that—to put it blatantly—you two had sex. Not just once, but a few times.

This is why asking these questions was pretty casual and not too surprising.

You two started engaging in sex a couple years ago. You were stressed about your company starting, and Hoseok was in town. He offered to help you relax, and before you knew it, he was drilling into you from behind.

Both of you agreed to stay friends but continued to have sex every now and then. It was great, you had to admit. Probably the best sex you had in your life, and it was good that you two were able to keep your friendship platonic at the same time. Only, it was sex without the romantic feelings.

To be honest, you were craving it again.

He passed you his phone again, and you tried to pick a good last question.

“Would you rather kiss me gently or kiss me aggressively?” You asked.

Hoseok paused before answering. “Depends on the mood.”

“Well, at this moment, then, what is the mood?”

You watched Hoseok’s eyes shift between your lips then your eyes.

“Aggressively.”

You hummed. “Good to know.” You passed him back his phone. “Last question.”

Hoseok chuckled, “You seriously didn’t learn anything new?”

You shrugged. “I guess not.”

He didn't seem bothered, though, when his body shifted closer to yours.

When he looked back up at you, his expression changed. Although his eyes were already an opaque shade of brown, they had darkened.

I know that look.

He smirked. “Would you rather make the first move or receive the first move?”

You bit your lip, gazing up at his body.

Before you could reconnect with his eyes, you heard his phone drop, and his lips were on yours.

Just like his answer, his kisses were aggressive and needy. You could taste the cherry cola and ice cream on his lips and mouth.

You pulled his face closer, wanting more.

Hoseok’s body language opened up, allowing you to get up and straddle his lap. You felt his hands inch up your shirt and tug at the fabric. He helped you take it off, which gave him access to your breasts.

You felt him undo your bra with a quick flick of his fingers, and you tossed it off without a care.

Hoseok let out a chuckle before claiming your lips with his.

His lips were intoxicating, and you wanted more.

“Please touch me,” you begged against his lips.

He hummed, grazing his hands down your back before roughly grabbing your ass. You moaned, and he held you against him, hard enough to feel him grind into you.

“Fuck, stop teasing,” you pulled away, and he laughed.

“Baby, I’m not teasing,” he smirked.

Baby. The term of endearment made your heart swoon.

You weren’t always this infatuated by Hoseok. But the way he came to visit you during his break, had dinner and ice cream with you, and kissed you this good—it made you want more than just a fling.

But you couldn't think that way. It was sex. You two were doing this to get off, not engage in lovemaking.

Hoseok swiped his tongue over his bottom lip, eyeing your figure. “You know what I want.”

You ran your hand up and down his chest. “What are you waiting for?”

Hoseok's hands came underneath your thighs, and he picked you up, walking you to your bedroom. He used your body to close the door, slamming you against it.

He ground himself against your core, causing you to moan louder than you expected.

You covered your mouth in embarrassment.

Hoseok chuckled, “It’s okay,” he pulled away enough to graze his thumb over your cheek, “I love it when you moan.”

You rolled your eyes, kissing him and grabbing his ass, causing him to grind on your core.

"Fuck, I can practically feel that you wet," he groaned, trying his best to hold you up and sturdy you against the door.

“B-bed,” you choked, one of his particular thrusts stroking perfectly against you.  

Hoseok moved you towards your bed and gingerly placed you down. He kissed down your bare chest and slowly took off your pants and underwear.

“Fuck, your perfect,” Hoseok awed, softly running a finger through your wet heat.

His cold finger sent a wave of pleasure through you, making you flinch.

Hoseok hummed. “So wet for me,”

He looked up at you. “May I?”

You nodded, but he only smirked.

“Words, baby,” he put a hand to his ear.

“Please,” you bit down on your lip.

You felt him spread your lips, and you clenched in response. He appeared to savour you, taking his time as he ate you out.

When you moaned, he’d hum, sending vibrations into your heat that brought you closer to your climax.

“Fuck, I’m close—”

He pulled away, licking his lips and gazing down at you.

“Hoseok—”

“You taste better than I remembered,” he commented. “But I want you to cum around me.”

God, I love his dirty talk.

You watched him take off his clothes. He must've been working out because he was more toned than six months ago.

He was about to line himself up with your entrance, but you stopped him with your foot on his chest.

You smirked. “Not yet, baby.”

You stood up. “Sit.”

Hoseok sat on the bed, your roles shifting.

“But I want—”

You interrupted his beg with your hand around his erect cock. He appeared to be speechless as you run your hand up and down his shaft.

“Hm?” You asked, chuckling lightly at how easy it was to make him submit. “What do you want, baby?”

“I-I wanted,” he stuttered, thrusting slightly into your hand, “to cum inside you.”

“Is that so?” You questioned, pulling your hand away.

Despite his vocalized want, he whined when you pulled away.

“I’m only doing what my baby wants,” you shrugged. “Condoms are in the bottom drawer on the right.”

Hoseok dashed over to the bedside table, rummaging for the condoms.

“Those should fit you, right?”

"Yes," he replied, opening the familiar wrapper and unravelling it on his erect member.  

He stood there for a minute, wrapped penis and naked, just fondly looking at your nude figure.

He whispered something under his breath.

“Hm?”

“Nothing,” Hoseok blushed. “You still want to fuck?”

“Yes.”

“Top or bottom?”

“Top please,” you smiled.

Hoseok laid down on your bed, and you climbed onto his torso.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he cursed as you moved off his abs and onto his cock.

A wet puddle was left on his abdomen, which he wiped away with his fingers, then putting said fingers into his mouth.

“So good,” he groaned.

You hummed in response, slowly sinking onto him.

"Fuck, you feel so good," you said when you bottomed out.

You started moving, swaying your hips back and forth. Each time Hoseok's cock would graze against your g-spot.

His hands were placed on your hips, guiding you on him. You could feel yourself clenching around him and your climax building up.

“I-I’m close,” you stuttered.

Hoseok swallowed, “Me too.”

“Ch-choke me,” you requested as you picked up your pace.

Hoseok grinned. “Only if you choke me back.”

You chuckled and rolled your eyes. Hoseok gently wrapped his hand around your neck, and you did the same, slowly applying pressure.

You felt your thighs burn from exhaustion. "F-fuck me," you cursed, slowing down.

Both of you let go of each other's neck, and Hoseok flipped you two over, still inside you.

"It's okay," Hoseok assures before resuming the pace.

His thrusts were rough and deep, and he pushed your thighs against your chest.

“Fuck, please keep going,” you begged.

“Can I choke you?” Hoseok asked.

“Please,” you replied, “do you want me to choke you too?”

“Yes,” Hoseok responded.

You felt yourself rhythmically clench around him. Hoseok must’ve realized because he began thrusting faster into you.

The room was filled with unholy noises. You could hear the wet sounds of your entrance and the impact of Hoseok’s hips against your core.

“Fuck don’t stop,” you choked out.

The knot building up in your abdomen unravelled, and pleasure and relaxation spread through your body. Your core gripped onto Hoseok like a vice.

“H-Hoseok,” you stammered, your core overstimulated.

“I-I want you to squirt,” he replied, continuing his firm thrusts.

“Oh,” you moaned.

He pounded deeper into your core, to the point where you could feel his tip ram against your cervix.

“Ah!” You screamed, feeling yourself gush around him.

“Fuck, so good,” Hoseok groaned. “I-I’m cumming.”

You felt the condom fill up inside you, and you felt disappointed that his cum couldn’t coat your walls.

His thrusts slowed down, and he stood still for a few moments.

When he pulled out, you shivered with oversensitivity. You knew that your sheets would be a mess and weren't looking forward to cleaning them when Hoseok left.

You looked up at the ceiling, breathless, while you heard Hoseok walk away from the bed.

“Where do you put your towels?” He asked.

“In the hallway, in the closet beside the dryer and washing machine.” You replied.

You heard him walk into the hallway and the closet door open and close. “Thanks,” he said. “And your bedsheets?”

“The closet in my room.”

You heard him walk back into your room, open your walk-in closet that led into your bathroom, and shuffle around. The tap ran in your bathroom for a couple seconds, then the sound of Hoseok wringing out something.

You began to sit up, but he hushed you to lie back down.

“Just relax,” he soothed, placing the clean bedsheets on your bedside table and walking over to you with a damp cloth.

“You don’t have to—”

He placed a hand on your thigh. “It’s okay,” he reassured.

You two exchanged a quick smile before Hoseok began to clean you up.

“You didn’t even cum on me,” you chuckled as he gently wiped your inner thighs.

“I know,” he replied, “but I still made you messy.”

When your thighs were no longer covered in your cum, you two changed your bedsheets.

“You good sleep in the same bed?” You asked while folding over your duvet.

“Sure,” He smiled.

You walked into your closet. "There should be some clothes that fit you. I usually wear men's clothes at home, anyways. It's crazy how great the quality men's clothes are compared to women's clothes." You picked out a t-shirt and sweatpants and tossed them at Hoseok.

He caught them, “Thanks.”

You two showered separately and spent the time getting ready together dancing to tunes.

If someone were to walk into the room, it wouldn’t look or smell like you two just had sex. You two looked like close friends having a dance party before going to bed.

Again, after you two had sex the first time, you both agreed to stay friends. It was easier said than done.

It was awkward initially, but you both were able to get past that by talking it through. Hoseok would ask how you felt during sex and what could have been better, and you would return the question.

Now, you both were able to have a good time and intimately learn more about each other.

Sure, it was strange, but it was a mutual agreement between consenting adults and fun.

The sex was fun—great, really—and you couldn’t have it any other way.

But you would be lying to yourself if you didn’t feel like something was missing.

.

.

“Good morning, everyone,” you greeted your fellow designers, “this is Hoseok. If you don’t know him already, he’s a well-known musician and one of my closest friends.”

Everyone welcomed Hoseok with a warm round of applause.

“Thank you, it’s a pleasure to be here.” Hoseok thanked.

“Hoseok will be helping out here and there while he’s vacationing here for a month,” you explained, “so take it easy on him.”

People shared chuckles at your joke.

"Anyways, let's start looking over the design ideas. You all are very talented artists, and I want you to remember that this is a draft, which means that these ideas are not final. If your idea is rejected, it's okay. We'll continue to work on a collective theme for the show."

The morning was spent listening to everyone's design concepts. To follow your reputation, the designs were contained within suits and gowns. As mentioned before, the theme was Vancouver's nature, where the fashion show would be taking place.

You and your design team used the recycled fabrics—which were separated by colours, textures, and materials—while figuring out your drafts.

You asked your design team to draft some ideas because you couldn't think of anything to present.

You were pleasantly surprised that your whole team had ideas that you approved.

“This a phenomenal,” you awed, “Great job, Erinn.”

“Actually,” you grabbed the attention of the other team members, “you all did a great job. We will be using all these ideas for the show.”

Your team shared cheers.

“Y/N,” Rachel nudged your shoulder, “I’m sorry to ask, but now that we’ve got the designs all in order, what about the models? You wanted to have various body types, right?”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got that covered,” you whispered back.

You turned back to your design team. "You all know that this show is tougher than our last one because we are trying to include more body types, genders, races, just different kinds of people. Which means that we will need to cater our clothes to the models, rather than the other way around.” You smiled, “So you all can go home for the next week.”

You heard Rachel choke on her inhale.

"Although you all have the week off, I want you all to try drawing your designs on other body types. Experiment with materials and colours. Remember to take some of the recycled fabrics home with you, and feel free to come in to pick anything up. Just let Rachel and I know in advance, and we'll give notice to the front desk so they can let you in. When we reconvene in a week, which would be next Friday at nine-thirty, I need you all to be ready to translate your designs, colours, and materials to our models." You ordered.

“Any questions?”

Comfortable silence amongst everyone.

You nodded. "Awesome. Good luck, everyone. Contact me if you have any questions."

Your team started packing up.

“Y/N, does that mean we’re spending the next week casting?” Rachel asked.

“Yes, Rachel. Please contact Westly and schedule lunch tomorrow at noon to discuss modelling criteria. It’s probably going to be pretty loose, but we need to contact Westly before sending it out.” You answered. “If he’s not free at that time, try figuring out something later tomorrow. Then book a reservation for three at Romeo’s.”

“Alright, on it,” Rachel replied.

You turned to Hoseok, who seemed shocked.

“What?” You blushed.

He continued his surprised expression. “I haven’t seen you like this before.”

You chuckled. “How else are you supposed to run a company and organize and execute a fashion show in 3 months?”

Rachel tapped you on the shoulder. "Westly can do lunch tomorrow, at noon, at Romeo's. He and his team secured the venue with Vancouver Fashion Week and are currently collaborating with the interior designers to figure out how the place will look. West said he'll debrief you tomorrow, at lunch, about the rest of the progress."

You smiled. “Great! Thank you, Rachel. You can also take the rest of the day off.”

Rachel appeared to be stunned, not responding to your words.

You waved a hand in front of her face. “Rachel? You can take the rest of the day off.”

“Are you sure, Y/N?” She asked.

You chuckled, “I wouldn’t be telling you to if I wasn’t sure, would I?”

She gave it a thought. “I guess not.”

You grinned. “Just meet me at our main building tomorrow, at eleven-thirty, and we’ll go to Romeo’s together.”

Rachel nodded. “Thank you, Y/N,”

“No worries,” you smiled.

You and Hoseok watched her leave, leaving you two alone in the studio.

“I’m sorry, it passed my mind. You’re okay not joining us for lunch tomorrow, right?” You asked Hoseok.

He dismissed your apology by brushing a hand through the air, “It’s all good. You’ve got your shit to do.” He smiled, “It gives me time to tour around a bit, anyways.”

“Good,” you replied. “So, where to?”

You pulled apart the croissant, eating pieces one at a time. The butteriness covered your tongue in a warmth that mixed well with the iced coffee you and Hoseok shared.

The park was surprisingly empty, despite it being a Friday. Usually, it would be tough to find a spot decently away from others, mostly shaded by trees.

The inlet was a few meters away, allowing you two to see sailboats pass by. People also kayaked and canoed, and you could hear their laughter faintly on land.

Here, you and Hoseok would be shielded by looming trees and away from potential fans of Hoseok. It was a rarity to have those two things when spending time with Hoseok: privacy and security—peace and quiet.

“This is what you wanted to do?” You asked, finishing off the croissant.

He nodded, sipping the iced coffee. “Yeah. It’s quiet and nice here.”

You two people watched, enjoying the breeze and serene environment.

“I was thinking,” you cleared your throat, “about last night. Did you enjoy it?”

Hoseok set down the iced coffee. “Yeah. I always like hanging out with you.”

“I mean—the sex.”

He seemed shocked by your question.

“Yeah, that was good too. Why do you ask? You never brought up before.” He pointed out.

Because I am growing feelings for my childhood friend, who I now have sex with for fun. This wasn't a part of the agreement, I know. We agreed to not grow feelings for each other and just have sex for pleasure. But it's inevitable to develop feelings for someone you have sex for, right? Like, there are probably people out there that can distinguish sex from love—and I guess it started out like that—but for us?

Am I crazy?

“No reason,” you sighed. “I just wanted to know if there was anything I could have done better.”

Hoseok turned his body to you, smiling. “It was perfect.”

He gestured with his arms for a hug, and you obliged. His cologne smelt of freshly peeled oranges; it was a pleasant fragrance, and you found yourself snuggling closer.

.

.

The past month went by in a busy blur.

The model casting went well. You and Westley found fantastic individuals to present your clothing line, which was in the process of being altered to fit those people.

The venue was secured, and the guest list was being made by You and Westley.

“Maybe invite Hoseok,” Westley suggested.  

You shook your head, “I can’t.”

"Why not?" He retorted. "The worse thing he could say is 'no,' and you can invite the whole band." He giggled. "Maybe I can meet Jimin in person."

You chuckled, “So that’s why you want me to invite Hoseok. Just because you made eye contact with Jimin for more than five seconds, it doesn’t mean that he’s into you. He’s straight.”

“How do you know?” Westley had a hand firmly on his hip.

“W-well, I haven’t asked him personally—”

"Then you can't assume he's straight!" Westley exclaimed. "The baseline isn't being heterosexual."

“True. Anyways, let’s get back to the guest list.” You chewed on your lip. “We have Harry Styles, BLACKPINK, Lizzo…”

Both of you ran down the list of a thousand attendees to the show in Vancouver. It was way smaller than fashion week or any of your previous shows, but it wasn't meant to be a big party.

Y/N [14:00]: Hey! Are you free and the boys on March 1st at 1 pm for about four hours, including an after-party until 10 pm, with food?

Hoseok [14:30]: Hiiiiii!! Sorry for the late text. I was asking the others. Yeah! That’s in 4 months? 🧐

Y/N [14:31]: Yeah, it’s for my fashion show. You can ask your company for that time? We’d provide the plane tickets and accommodation. You’d probably stay 3 days and 2 nights? You’d fly in the first day, sleep the one night, then attend the show the second day, sleep the second night, and fly out the 3rd day. I’ll need to know by the end of the week.

Hoseok [14:32]: Sounds good!!! I’ll ask my managers and let you know 👊

Y/N [14:33]: Awesome! Thanks 💚

Hoseok [14:33]: Np 💚

“So, Hoseok and the boys can come, but he has to confirm with his managers. He’ll let me know soon.” You relayed to Westley.

"Great! As long as we get confirmation from Hoseok at the end of this week, we can send out the invitations. We've checked with everyone's management, and they all seem to be busy. Worse comes to worst; we'll just have to move seats around." Westley advised.

He closed his laptop, and you followed.

“Alright, that seems to be all of the guest list business. I’ll get my team to start organizing plane tickets and accommodation.” He sighed, “shall we head to the studio to check on the design team?”

“Yes,” you replied.

Both of you were driven to the studio to check on the design team.

The studio was filled with models of various shades and shapes. Music played quietly in the background, and your coworkers and models grooved to the tunes. Designers pinned fabrics around people’s figures and sketched down measurements and ideas.

You and Westley went around checking on everyone, making sure gowns and suits were well in progress. A smaller group of people created ideas for shoes and were sending them out to shoemakers.

The rest of the day was spent getting to know the models, fixing measurements, finalizing some ideas, and briefing everyone about the plan for the next two months.

"Please have the gowns, suits, and shoes by the end of this month so we can start having the makeup artists consult all of you; to make sure the makeup correlates with the clothes and the models." You informed. "Thank you, everyone, for your amazing work."

Scattered “thank you”s responded, and our workday was over.

“You want to get some drinks?” Westley nudged.

You nodded, frankly too tired to answer but eager for a drink.

Both of you decided to walk to the high-class bar, which allowed private areas in the back for paying customers. You and Westley sat alone, away from the crowds of people near the entrance of the bar.

“To having a productive three months,” Westley sang, holding up his martini.

You sighed, “Cheers,” you tapped your peach Bellini glass against his, admitting a chime.

"Fuck," Westley cursed at the sip of his drink, "they're always stronger than I remember. "Anyways, the show is pretty much underway. Guestlist is handled, the venue is prepped and ready for us, the clothing is almost done. Oooo, I can’t wait to see it all together.”

You nodded.

“You don’t seem so excited, Y/N.”

“I am,” you replied.

“But?”

“I am excited.” You affirmed, although not living up to the word

Westley silenced, knowing when not to push your buttons.

He took a careful sip of his martini. “Where’s Hoseok?”

You fidgeted with your glass. "Hoseok went back to Korea. He only had a month of vacay, so," you left the sentence adrift.

“Did you enjoy his company?”

“Can we not talk about him right now? I rather not mix work and personal life.” You stated.

Westley acknowledged with a firm nod, finishing off his martini and asking for another.

“May I ask a question?”

“Sure.” You replied.

He cringed. “But if I ask, promise me you won’t fire me.”

You turned to him. “Depends on your question. You have to ask me first, then I can decide whether or not to fire you. I cannot make promises.”

“Why are you so off all of a sudden?” He genuinely asked.

You took a deep breath. “I’m not going to fire you, not for a long time. You’re my best worker, and I can’t let you go.”

"I feel like there's going to be a 'but' somewhere. Might as well rip off the Band-Aid." Westley sighed.

You nodded, “You’re right. And you’re right about my mood. I’ve been kind of off lately.”

“Because of Hoseok?”

"Yeah, to be honest." You admitted. "I feel like we're really close—more than just friends. We're on the same wavelength, you know? And whenever we're apart for a long time and then meet up again, it's like time has passed."

“And let me guess, you haven’t told him because you’re afraid to ruin your friendship.”

You scoffed. “There’s no need for sarcasm, West.”

He rolled his eyes and sighed. “I’m just saying, it’s the oldest narrative in the book. One friend is falling for the other, and that one friend doesn’t want to confess their feelings because they’ve known the other person for years and are afraid of ruining that connection.” He took a sip of his martini. “But in the end, it’s two friends just pining over their feelings of love for each other.”

“But we’re different.” You argued.

"I guess so. The narrative doesn't really specify one friend is a famous fashion designer and the other being a famous musician—"

“I mean,” you interrupted, “we have sex every time we see each other.

Westley's mouth fell open in a silent gasp. His hand was placed on his chest, and his eyes stared into yours.

He tipped back his martini into his mouth, finishing it off. “Well, you didn’t mention the friends with benefits part.”

“I know!” You groaned. “That’s why it’s so complicated.”

"Is it really, though? Wouldn't confessing your feelings after you two have had sex so much make it slightly easier? Because it makes sense to grow feelings for someone you've known for a while and have had sex with on multiple occasions." Westley speculated.

“I didn’t say we had sex on multiple occasions—”

“Honey,” he began, “you said you’ve had sex with him every time you see each other, and you two meet a lot. It doesn’t take a detective to figure it out.”

"Anyways," he digressed, "the sooner you tell him, the better. There's no use debating over it for years, then finding out he's found someone else when he would've picked you anyways."

"Gosh, when you say it like that, it sounds like a romantic movie." You cringed, finishing your peach Bellini.

He shrugged. “Well, it kinda is.”

You chuckled. “Well, thanks for the advice.”

“Thank you for filling me in,” he smiled.

.

.

The week went by fast. Your design team was still working on alterations, so you were left brainstorming hair and makeup and contacting specialists in those fields.

You were sitting at home, knee-deep in Pinterest boards when your phone buzzed.

You stopped strolling through your laptop and peered down.

Hoseok [19:30]: We can come to your show!

Y/N [19:30]: Fantastic! I'll let my team know, and we’ll send out the invites.

You texted Westley, informing him that BTS could attend the show.

Westley [19:33]: Great! I'll let the rest of the team know, and we'll send the emails out tomorrow

Y/N [19:34]: Thanks!

Westley [19:35]: Np

You set down your phone and continued to add ideas to your private Pinterest board.

Your phone buzzed again.

Hoseok [19:55]: What are you doing right now?

You were puzzled.

Y/N [19:56]: Nothing much, just brainstorming ideas for the show. You?

Hoseok [19:57]: Just chilling in my room.

Hoseok [20:05]: I miss you

You chuckled at the text, thinking that Hoseok was drunk.

Y/N [20:05]: I miss you too, Hobi.

Hoseok [20:08]: …how much?

Again, you were puzzled by his text.

Y/N [20:10]: Wdym? I miss having you here? Is that what you mean?

Hoseok [20:11]: I mean, do you miss me intimately?

Y/N [20:14]: Like sex-wise?

Hoseok [20:14]: Fuck, I need you, Y/N.

You stared at his words.

Hoseok [20:18]: I miss your body and how perfectly you fit around me.

Your cheeks flushed.

Hoseok [20:21]: Can you video chat? Unless you’re not in the mood.

You panicked.

You were in the mood but weren't presentable. Your hair was messy, and you weren't wearing any makeup, and you were dressed in a hoodie and sweatpants.

Y/N [20:23]: Yeah, I’m in the mood. Just give me 5 mins.

You quickly got out of your seat and ran to your bedroom. You sifted through your closet and found the sexist clothing item you had: a red lingerie set. You quickly undressed and put on the set.

You looked into your full-length mirror and tried not to cringe. Your hair was a mess, and you weren’t wearing any makeup. It definitely looked like Hoseok's text came out of nowhere—and it did, but you somehow expected yourself to be decently presentable.

However, the lingerie set was doing you favours. The set was composed of a crotchless thong and a bralette that exposed your nipples.

Y/N [20:28]: I’m ready.

Your phone rang, and you answered, quickly propping it on your drawers across from your bed.

You were faced with a shirtless Hoseok, his cock already in his hand.

“Fuck, you look amazing.” He complimented breathlessly.

“Wow, you’re ahead of the game—and really? I’m a mess.” You chuckled.

He hissed, flinching in his grip. “Fuck, just take the compliment, Y/N.”

You cleared your throat. “Thank you.”

You sat a pit forward, angling your breasts towards the camera.

“What are you imagining, baby?” You purred.

“Y-You,” he stuttered, moving his hand up and down his cock.

“Mhm,” you moaned, “thinking up my pussy clenching around your cock, making it all wet.”

He nodded.

"You can do something if you want," he suggested. "You said you were in the mood."

Your eyes opened wide. “Wait a minute.”

You brought the phone with you on your journey, going back to your closet and fetching your dildo, lube, and vibrator. You hurried to the bathroom and propped your phone up against the closed door.

You suctioned the bottom of the dildo onto the titled floor. You placed the vibrator on the bathroom counter.

“You want to watch me bounce on this dildo and think of you?” You smirked, rubbing lube onto your hands, onto the toy, and onto your vagina.  

“Fuck, yes,” he replied, stilling his hand around his cock for a moment.

“Did I say you could stop?” You spat.

“I’m waiting for you,” he smiled, making your heart melt.

You paused over the dildo, smiling back at him. “Awww, that’s actually kinda sweet. Thank you.”

You quickly washed your hands and grabbed the vibrator.  

You crouched down and slowly onto the dildo.

“Fuck,” you moaned, tilting your head back at the feeling of being filled up. It didn’t hit the spots Hoseok did, but it was good enough.

You lifted yourself up and sunk back down again, rhythmically repeating the motion.

“Fuck, so good,” you sighed, overlooking the pain in your knees.

“That's right, baby, imagine me filling that pussy up," Hoseok groaned, following your rhythm while pumping his cock.

“Fuck yes,” you replied, “and I’m clenching around you so tight.”

You two exchanged moans at the sound of your pussy squelching around the dildo.

“Use the vibrator, baby,” Hoseok purred.

You hummed, grabbing the rose gold vibrator and turning it on. You place the buzzing toy on your clit, feeling pleasure rippling through your core.

“Fuck,” you hissed, speeding up your pace a bit.

“I-I’m getting close.”

“Yeah, baby?” Hoseok smirked. “You get off at me rubbing my cock? Imagining me buried inside your pussy, making you feel so good?"

You nodded. “But it’s not as you, baby.”

“I know—” He choked, appearing to be on the brink of his climax. “I fucking miss the way your pussy fit so well around me, no matter how many times I fucked you open.”

“Mhm,” you bit your lips, watching him with hooded eyes. “Don’t stop.”

“Who knew you were filthy enough to cum during cybersex?" He observed. "I'm not even there to touch you, but just thinking of me inside has you in ruins.”

“What would you do if I was with you right now?” You asked.

“I would fuck you until you couldn’t walk the next day,” he replied, “I’d fuck you until that pretty pussy is swollen.”

"F-fuck, I'm going to cum," you stuttered, feeling the familiar build-up in your core.

“M-me too,” he stammered.

You watched his head tilt back in pleasure and his cum squirt up from his cock.

“Fuck!” You cursed, feeling your pleasure shoot out of your core and onto the floor

“So hot,” Hoseok sighed.

You chuckled, coming down from high. You pulled yourself up and off the dildo, sitting on the cool tile floor.

“Fuck, did you squirt?” He asked, looking closer.

You nodded, gesturing to the mess on the ground.

“Spread your legs for me, baby,” he commanded and obliged, showing him your battered cunt.

You spread your lips, and he hummed at sight.

“So beautiful.” He awed.

“You happy? I need to wipe this all up, now,” you scoffed.

He chuckled. “It’s not my fault that you cummed.” He angled his phone to the floor, showing splashes of his cum on the floor, "and besides, you also made me make a mess.”

You both chatted while cleaning up your messes, talking about your days as if nothing happened. After finishing your clean-up, you two continued your conversation while showering, as if both of you were doing it together.

Ready to relax for the night, both of you signed off with exchanged ‘thanks’ and ‘good night.’

You turned off your phone with a soft click and stepped out of the steamy bathroom. Your pyjamas were soft on your skin, and you felt ready to go to bed.

Hopping onto your bed, you grabbed your laptop and turned on some Netflix to fall asleep to.

From an outsider’s perspective, masturbating with your best friend and then casually talking with them while showering and getting ready for bed was odd. Repeating the scenario in your mind did make it sound like you two were in a long-distance romantic relationship rather than a platonic one.

But you and Hoseok were different. That was your excuse.

A friend could do this and not catch feelings. You two were the perfect example of that.

Emphasis on were because you were currently spiralling in your growing romantic feelings for Hoseok.

But what would you do in this situation?

You and your childhood friend engage in sex one time and promise each other to not grow feelings. In this manner, you two could have sex without attachment. Fast forward into the future, and you both are still making this arrangement with no negative consequences and feel like you two have gotten to know each other better and have become better friends—until you catch feelings. And you don’t want to risk losing this relationship you two have.

Because he is a worldwide musician who can’t be tied down because it could risk his career, and he might lose fans—and you couldn't be bothered with any romantic commitment with your fast-paced and unpredictable work schedule.

So, you stay in this unnameable mess.

.

.

“Time flies by when you’re having fun,” Allie commented from the plush couch.

You looked in the mirror, twisting your back towards it to see the back of the dress. “I guess so.”

“You have to admit, planning a fashion show is pretty fun,” she said. “If it wasn’t, you wouldn’t be doing it over and over again.”

“True,” you replied, turning to the stylist.

“May I see the other dress?” You asked, and the stylist nodded, retreating to somewhere in the shop you couldn’t see.

It was the last month until the show. Everything was in order: the show’s venue and its decorations, the clothes, makeup and hair for the models, and the guests’ accommodation. Now, it was your turn to find suitable attire for the occasion.

You tried on the next dress. It was a slim-fitting number, with a leg slit in the front. It was scandalous and stunning, but not right for the show.

“I don’t like any of these dresses,” you sighed, annoyed.

Allie appears to brainstorm some ideas.

“Maybe try a suit?” She proposed.

You kept your eyes on the mirror, twirling your figure and watching the fabric move at your feet.

“Think about it,” she began, “think of all the powerful women who’ve worn suits and killed it. Zendaya, Kristen Stewart, Blake Lively, Awkwafina. The list goes on. It’s a statement piece, and you’re the big brain behind this operation.”

“I think it’s ‘mastermind behind this operation,’ but I get what you mean.” You corrected.

“You literally bypassed my whole point—”

“I know, I know,” you interrupted. “It’s just—suits for women are so overpriced. And it’s just like the dresses, except a different fit. Same colour palettes, same materials, so on.”

Allie scoffed. "You're a fucking fashion designer, did you forget? Make your own thing. There are leftover fabrics at your studio; you have time to make something." Her face lit up, “And, technically, it’s for free.”

You gave it a thought, but the stylist came back before you could finish it.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Vega, but I’m not finding anything, and I don’t want you walking back and forth and bringing me more dresses.” You gave an apologetic smile. “Thank you very much for your help.”

"No worries, Y/N! Just hang up the dress when you take it off, and I’ll deal with the rest,” she replied.

“Will do,” you said, and she stepped out of the room.

Allie helped you unzip the gown, and you shimmed out of it. You did as you were told and hung up the dress, and you and Allie left the shop.

The walk back to the studio was quick, you two making determined strides through the crowded city.

You and Allie entered the empty studio, turning on the nights.

The studio was organized chaos with dressed mannequins, big boxes of fabrics in the back of the room, and papered patterns on the tables.

“Wow,” Allie awed.

"Yeah," you replied, leading you both to your master station is near the back, "it's crazy what a couple months before a show looks like.”

You looked through the drawers beside your desks and grabbed the tools you'll need to plan out the suit.

“So, just a suit jacket and pants…” You said, grabbing some paper to sketch up your pattern.

You looked up at Allie, “Do you mind helping me out with measurements?”

She nodded, “For sure. What do you need?”

You guided Allie on how to measure your proportions for the suit. She measured your inseams for your pants, the sleeves, the cuts, and so on. In between, you'd write down the dimensions for the patterns.

You two sifted through the fabrics to create a monochrome patchwork outfit. The suit would be shades of cherry red, with different materials making it up. There were no patterns in the patchwork, only various tones of red in several types of wool.

“Fucking hell,” Allie cursed while sifting through the materials, “who would’ve thought there were so many shades of red.”

She held up a piece of recycled fabrics, checking with you that it was the correct tone. You took it and held the portion against the others.

“Nope, too dark,” you shook your head.

"What? It looks exactly the same," she disagreed, walking over to your table. When comparing the fabrics, she made an 'aaah’ sound, letting you know that you were right.

Before sectioning off your pattern, you tried your best to evenly sew all the material together into a quilt-like form.

“Jesus,” you muttered, shaking out your sore hands.

“We don’t have to get this all done today, you know. You do have two months left.” Allie advised.

"I know. I just want to put this all together first," you replied, continuing to push the material through the sewing machine.

“Alright,” she surrendered, bringing one of the seats over to your table.

You sewed in silence for a bit.

“So,” Allie began, “how are you and Hoseok doing?”

You paused. “What do you mean?”

“You know…you two and your arrangement.”

You scoffed, “Our arrangement? You mean us having sex?”

“Yeah, but the other stuff.”

You pulled your hands from the sewing machine, crossing your arms over your chest. "Just spit it out, Al."

“Well, you’ve had mixed feelings with Hoseok, right? Like you’re starting to like him?” She speculated.

Your mouth gaped open. “Have you been talking to West?”

She didn’t respond, not making eye contact.

“You can’t be fucking serious. You two are ganging up on me!” You yelled.

“Y/N, we’re just worried.”

“About what? I have feelings—and?” You fumed.

She sighed. “You shouldn’t be having sex with someone if you’re growing romantic feelings, especially if you two agreed to be platonic.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you stood.

“Y/N!” She exclaimed. "Don't you dare talk to me that way? I am your friend, not your enemy." Allie stood up and sighed. “I get it. You don’t like people in your business. That’s fair. I just feel like you're sacrificing yourself for Hoseok when you could talk about it with him."

“Allie, you don’t know what you’re fucking talking about.” You spat.

“I get it,” she sympathized. “I don’t. I’m not you or Hoseok.”

“So, tell me,” she said. “Educate me on the situation. I am not here to judge. I’m just worried about you, that’s all.”

You took a few deep breaths, trying to calm yourself down.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized. “I shouldn’t have talked to you like that.”

“It’s okay,” she forgave, “just don’t push me away so fast, okay?”

“Okay.” You agreed.

She sat down, “So?”

You sat down and rehashed your feelings about you and Hoseok to her: the growing romantic feelings for him, not knowing what to do, and wanting something more.

“Well, do you think it’d work out between you two if you dated?” She asked.

You shifted in your seat. "I honestly don't know. It's tough with Hoseok's work because he has a loyal fanbase. I'm afraid he's going to get even more hate if we were to date.”

“But would you two be happy?” She asked.

You gave it a thought. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you go into a relationship regardless of other people. Whether you’re a celebrity or an ordinary person, you date someone for you and that person; no one else. There are going to be people who support and hate your relationship no matter what. What matters is what the two people think in the relationship."

She sighed. “You cannot control what others will think about you. No matter what you do or who you do, you're going to upset someone. So, just do what feels comfortable and safe with you."

You hummed, understanding.

“So, would you be happy if you and Hoseok dated?”

“Yes.” You stated without a thought. “I really like him—love him even.”

"Then that's all that matters," Allie replied.

.

.

The week before, the show crept on you faster than you expected. You, your team of designers and event organizers, models, hairstylists and makeup artists flew into Vancouver a week early to prepare on location.

However, the majority of the week would be spent preparing for the show. The first day was spent unloading all of the outfits and equipment for the show into the venue. Everyone was required to show up to organize their stations and to familiarize themselves with the venue.

“Please set up your stations while Westley and I look into the main runway and after part section. We’ll be back in around two hours to check up on everyone. If you have any questions while we're gone, please contact me on my phone." You held up your cellphone and everyone nodded. "Great. Good luck, everyone!"

The venue and interior designers' owners toured you and Westley around the place, showing you the drawn floorplans, running down the prices, and checking that the decorations correlated with your plans.

“These weren’t the chairs we sent over,” Westley pointed to the black folded chairs lining the runways.

“Yes, but these were within the price range and—” One of the interior designers, Queeny, said.

“But did we get an email regarding this change?” You interjected.

Queeny exchanged looks with the other three decorators, and they shook their heads.

Wesley let out an angry sigh. "Well, I guess we’ll have to live with these then.” He sat down on one of the chairs. “At least they’re comfortable. They look cheap, but they’re sturdy.”

“Are there any more changes you made without informing as?” You asked.

They all shook their heads.

"Great." You turned to one of the two-venue owners, named Ruby. "Shall we continue to the after-party part?”

“Yes,” she replied, gesturing to the doorway that led to the front reception area.

From the reception area, where guests would check-in and get a wristband, a double-door way on the right led to a ballroom for the after-party.

The overall theme of the place was classic European designs with off-white luxurious walls and chandeliers. The ceilings were intricately carved, and the floors were a smooth white oak. Just walking around made you feel like you were dirtying the place.

“This place is stunning,” Westley whispered.

“I know,” you replied, “you chose the place.”

“I know,” he smiled, pretending to flip his hair.

You both chuckled, continuing to follow the owners around the venue.

Everything worked out, besides the chairs, so you and Westley checked on the designers, models, hairstylists and makeup artists.

At the end of the workday, everyone was in order and ready for the next three days of dress rehearsals and solving and problems.

You arrived back at your hotel with sore feet and exhaustion.

Your phone rang as you flopped onto your bed.

You answered. “Hobi!”

“Y/N! How was your flight to Vancouver?” He asked.

“It was good. We didn't have a rest day, though. We had to settle into the place and check it over. My feet are so sore.” You groaned.

“Really? I thought you’d at least have a rest day when you guys arrived,” he assumed.

You shook your head. “No. Sadly, this whole week will be walking around and making sure everything is going smoothly.”

He sighed. “Shit. That sucks.” You heard him shift on the other side of the phone. “Do you want to relax?”

You laughed. “Jung Hoseok, did you seriously booty call me from across the world?”

Hoseok gasped, "I did not! I was talking about watching Netflix or something." He chuckled, "You're so dirty-minded."

You both laughed.

“Okay, so what do you want to watch?” He asked on the other end of the call.

You brought out your laptop and scrolled through the movie selection.

“Oooo! Let’s watch Hush. I’ve heard so many good things about it.” You recalled.

You could hear his hesitation.

Hoseok did not like being scared. Whenever you watched anything scary, you were afraid that your neighbours would complain at how loud his screaming was. As you remembered saying "hello" to him once and him screaming in fear and surprise, he was also easily frightened.

“We don’t have to,” you said.

“No, no,” Hoseok reassured, “we’ll watch it. Just send me the Netflix Party link, and I'll ready the Zoom link."

You giggled. “You don’t have to be brave for me, Hobi. I know you don’t like scary movies.”

“You want to watch it, so let’s do it,” he said, “and the ratings are good.”

“Okay,” you digressed. “I’m texting you the link right now.”

“Same,” he replied.

You two hung up and joined the links.

“Hello!” Hoseok beamed, dancing.

You rolled your eyes and chuckled at his burst of energy. “Hello, Hobi.”

You carried your laptop to the bathroom and began getting ready for bed.

“How was your day?” You asked.

Hoseok described him and his bandmates' film day for "Run! BTS," and you groaned at all the work they had to do.

He laughed. “But we got to play games, which was fun. We laughed so much that my abs hurt.” You watched him lift up his shirt and show his toned abdomen.

Your core felt a familiar flutter.

“W-wow, that must be a lot of laughing,” you cleared your throat and took out your toothbrush and toothpaste.

For the moment, the time difference worked for you two because it was almost ten at night for you and nearly three in the afternoon for him.

“Should I turn off my camera?” You asked before undressing to get into the shower.

He shook his head. “I’m okay with you leaving it on. I’ve seen you naked before, so it’s not really different. But if you’re uncomfortable, you can just turn it off.”

You shrugged and began taking off your clothes in full view of the camera and screen.

You noticed Hoseok’s expression.

“Enjoying the show?” You chuckled, finally taking off your undergarments and fully exposing yourself.

Hoseok smirked, “Don’t act like you weren’t just turned on by my abs. I saw how you looked at me.”

You nodded and surrendered. “Fair point.”

You hoped in the shower, and you two continued talking.

“Jesus, we haven’t started the movie yet,” Hoseok commented while you were washing your hair.

“Shit, right,” you laughed, massaging the shampoo into your scalp.

After you hoped out of the shower and dried your body and hair, you both started to watch the movie.

“This is a pretty cool premise. Like, we’ve never seen a deaf person in a horror movie before,” you regarded.

"True, that's a good point—AHHHHHH!" Hoseok screamed at the sudden slam in the movie.

You burst into laughter.

“Holy shit!” He exclaimed, trying to calm himself with controlled breaths.

The movie continued as you finished off your skincare and put on your pyjamas.

The oversized t-shirt was long enough to cover your thighs.

“You’re going to watch this before bed?” Hoseok gasped.

You chuckled. “Yeah. It’s not that scary.” You say as you jump at the sound of breaking glass in the film.

Hoseok laughed at the coincidental timing.

You don’t remember falling asleep, but you woke up to the sound of your alarm.

“Shit,” you grumbled and turned it off.

You heard Hoseok stir awake on the Zoom call.

Both of you had fallen asleep, but Hoseok finished the movie before you could; because you saw the end credits paused in the Netflix Party.

“Sorry,” you whispered.

“It’s okay,” Hoseok mumbled, squinting at the screen.

“I’ll let you sleep,” you smiled, hovering your cursor over the "send" button.

He softly smiled, “thank you.” He snuggled into his pillow, “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Hobi,” you replied, ending the call for both of you.

It didn’t hit you until you were halfway through your dress rehearsal, but Hoseok had stayed with you while you slept. He didn't wake you but quietly continued the movie and fell asleep.

Hoseok was usually sweet, so you didn't pay too much attention to it.

But it did make you feel special.

.

.

It was the day of the fashion show, and you were fucking nervous.

You had done this before, a show, but this one was different. You had put in so much effort and were proud of how it turned out but were afraid of what other people would think.

“It’ll be fine, don’t worry,” Allie assured through video call,” it’ll be excellent, and everyone won’t stop talking about it.”

“Probably,” you replied, putting on your makeup.

“It will be excellent, Y/N. I am so sure I will bet money.” She stated.

You chuckled, "then I'll take your word for it because I am not bidding money.”

You both laughed.

“Okay, I know I already showed you my outfit, but are you sure it looks good?” She asked, putting on the A-line floor-length dress she’d shown you before. It was a beautiful viridian green with lace shoulder straps that draped over the sides of her biceps.

“You look beautiful,” you complimented, setting your makeup with setting spray and heading to your closet.

You put on the suit you made and looked in the mirror. You looked a bad bitch.

“You look great! Oooo, put on the red bottoms,” Allie squealed.

You put on the signature Louis Vuitton black high heels with the ruby bottoms.

Your phone buzzed.

“I got to go; Westley is here with our ride to the venue. I’ll see you there!”

“See you!” She waved, ending the call.

You did a quick check in the mirror, fixing your hair, grabbed your bags, and headed out the door.

Your driver waited outside the vehicle as you approached, and opened its door, showing you a well-dressed and excited Westley.

"Oh my god, you look great!" He gasped. “When did you make the suit?”

“I finished it a week before we flew out,” you chuckled, “and you look great too! I love the pine on you.”

You took a step back and looked at Westley’s crisp pine-coloured suit with matching brown dress shoes.

“Thank you,” he grinned. “Okay, get in before we become late.”

You hopped into the car, and your driver got in and started the vehicle.

The drive was spent recalling your opening and closing speeches with Westley and the show's agenda.

“So, five pm is when the show ends, and then the guests for the after-party go into the ballroom area. Food is served at six pm, and everything is wrapped up at ten pm.” Westley relayed.

You nodded, “Yup.”

Both of you arrived a couple hours before the start time, which was at 1 pm, to set everything up and warm up the models and crew.

Westley checked the organizers and the models while you went to the runway area to check the lights and sound.

"Let's rerun the lights, please!" You announced as you walked into the runway room. "Can I get a headset, please?" You ask the crew on the ground, who nodded.

“Yup!” You heard the lighting crew respond.

You were given the headset, and you heard the head light technician’s voice.

“Can you hear me?” They checked.

“Yes,” you confirmed.

They ran by the six light settings for the show, and it was all correct.

“It’s perfect, thank you. Can you please check that the sound is alright?” You asked through the headset.

“Yup. You’ll have to hand the headset to another person, though, and we’ll give you a mic.” They added.

You heard their muffled voice as if they covered their mic's headset with their hand. Next, you had someone hand you a mic and take your headset.

“You’ll need to stand on the stage,” The person said.

“Okay,” you replied, going to the runway and standing on the end portion.

All the room’s lights turned on, and you could see the lighting crew’s area in the back and the chair organized around the runway.

“You can speak into the mic!” You heard someone shout.

You started speaking nonsense in the mic, like the type of weather outside, as they adjusted the volume.

“Thank you!” Someone shouted.

“Thanks,” you said into the mic before handing it to one of the crew.

“Is there anything to report? Any problems that arose before I got here?” You asked the crew.

They all shook their heads.

“How is everyone feeling?” You asked.

They all shared nervous laughter, and a few people said “good.”

“Alright, if there’s anything you all need, just come to the modelling area and ask me. It’s in the backroom.”

They all nodded, and you left them to their business.

You arrived in the backroom and saw designers fitting their outfits on the models and makeup artists and hairstylists prepping their stations.

“How is everybody doing?!” You enthusiastically asked.

They cheered with a mix of excitement and nervousness.

"I get it. Everyone is on their toes. You all have an hour left to set things up before people start filing in. Remember, the show starts at 1 pm. The door opens thirty minutes before them.”

They call responded with various forms of understanding, and you went around to check on them individually.

Rachel came and taped your shoulder, with a headset on, “So, the guards are in their posts, and the front is ready to check people in.”

“Is there a line already?” You asked.

Rachel pressed down the headset, asking the crew on the other end.

“Yes, there’s a line of people outside,” she reported, “about twenty people, so far.”

"Shit, yeah, let them in. It's probably cold." You ordered.

“I’ll tell them,” she replied.

“Okay, everyone! We’re starting to let people in. Again, you all have about an hour left, so try to wrap things up and relax. Thank you!” You announced.

Again, sounds of understanding, and you, Westley, and Rachel left the backroom.

“Rachel, Westley and I are going to check that the ballroom area and catering are all handled. Please check in with the front desk to see how they're doing, and then meet us in the ballroom." You told.

“Got it, Y/N,” Rachel answered, walking past the two of you and towards the front area.

Westley appeared impressed. “She's terrific. She's even got the headset and everything."

"I know, right? She's cool." You remarked.

Like clockwork, you and Westley ran over the details and schedule for the catering and the after-party. Everyone had places to sit, with elegantly decorated name cards.

Everything was ready.

"Fantastic, thank you," you thanked the caterers and the staff in the ballroom. "Feel free to come into the runway area during the show if you all would like to watch."

With that, it was about time the show would start. You and Westley hurried backstage, where you both were handed microphones.

The lights dimmed, and classical music played—fitting the theme of elegance and high class.

You and Westley regarded each other, did an excellent handshake, and strutted out on the runway. Both of you were met with applause from the crowd and blinding spotlights.

You two walked to the end of the runway and let out an exhausted sigh.

The music quieted, faintly heard in the background.

“And that’s why I’m not a model,” Westley joked, causing the crowd to giggle.

“Same here,” you chuckled.

“Anyways, welcome to the show, everyone!” You cheered, and the crowd clapped. “As you know, I am Y/N, and this is Westley. Today, we’ll be showing recycled elegant clothes on people. Not just models, but people. All the clothes you'll be seeing here today are made from recycled fabrics and hand-crafted by our design team and me."

Applause.

"We wanted to represent people, so we got people to present our clothes. Redundant, I know, but the fashion industry rarely shows models that look like people. Don’t get me wrong, they’re all fantastic. However, this show will be different. Enjoy!” Westley waved.

A final round of applause while you and Westley walked off the runway.

The show went smoothly and wonderfully. The changes were fluid, and there were no clothing mishaps. The classical music turned into upbeat music that everyone seemed to groove to. Models danced on the runway while walking, and there were joyful cheers in the crowd.

In the end, you and Westley gave your brief thank you speeches, and months of planning and work were officially completed.

When everyone was backstage, you all collectively cheered.

“Phenomenal job, everyone!” You praised. “I am speechless at how well we all did. Thank you all for being such wonderful people to work with.”

Smiles and cheers were shared as everyone got ready for the after-party.

“Okay, remember that food is being served at six o’clock, and you all will be able to find your names at a table.” You reminded.

You and Westley did a quick check-up on people before heading to the ballroom area to socialize.

“Great job, you two!” Some complimented.

You and Westley thanked the praise and had a small talk with some colleges.

“Hey, Y/N!” You heard a familiar voice say.

You turned and say Hoseok with the rest of the boys, waving.

“Hey!” You smiled, nudging Westley to join you.

"Well, enjoy the after-party," Westley grinned at the other guests before joining you.

As always, the seven boys were well-dressed in designer suits. Hoseok wore lightly tinted shades paired with a dark suit and floral dress shirt. His hair was wavy.

“That was awesome, Y/N,” Namjoon said.

“Thank you!” You replied.

“Yeah, Y/N, I loved the recycled-fabrics idea. Are anything on sale?” Taehyung asked.

You nodded. "Everything will be on sale next month. I'll send you the dates, so you mark them in your calendar. The clothes go fast," you chuckled.

“Damn,” Taehyung remarked, eyebrows raised.

“Hey, Jimin,” Westley greeted.

“Hey West,” Jimin smiled, “loved your speech today. That suit looks great on you.”

“I know,” Westley smirked, “you look good too.”

"How are you feeling?" Hoseok asked, letting Westley and Jimin casually flirt.

You sighed. “Glad that it’s over, to be honest. It was fun, of course, but it's a lot of work to organize."

“Oh my god, is that Charlie Puth?” Jungkook gasped, hiding slightly behind Namjoon.

Everyone laughed.

"You should go and say 'hi,' Kook. You've already met and sung with him before. You two are practically friends." Yoongi expressed.

“True,” you agreed, “and Charlie’s a nice guy.”

“Okay,” Jungkook straightened his posture, “I’ll do it.”

You all watched Jungkook walk over and begin chatting with Charlie Puth.

“God, he’s grown up so much,” Seokjin sighed.

The rest of you caught up and chatted about the show.

Before you knew it, Westley was poking your side to let you know it was five minutes until six.

“Shit,” you cursed. “Sorry to cut this convo short, but Westley and I have to announce dinner. We’ll talk soon!”

You all said your goodbyes, and you and Westley went up to the front to state it was time for food.

You two were seated with Rachel, Allie, and a couple others. Everyone ordered off a menu, which served various kinds of pasta, salads, and a mix of alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages.

It was an excellent way to end off the show.

There was a dancefloor, too, where people could groove to music after eating.

Of course, the seven boys went to the dancefloor, which caused others to join.

You were finishing off your fettuccine alfredo when Hoseok danced over to your table. You chuckled as he held his hand out and quirked a brow.

“You’re ridiculous,” you said, taking his hand.

“You love it,” he smirked, pulling you off your chair and leading you to the dancefloor.

You danced together, along with your friends. He held your hands as you two swayed to the slow songs and body-rolled with you during the upbeat songs. Of course, a few BTS songs played, and everyone tried to follow the known choreography. You went back to your table for a drink of water, and Allie came with you. "Look, and you and Hoseok dancing up a storm," she teased. “Shut up,” you chuckled. “The chemistry is there, Y/N,” she commented. You drank your water. "Not now, Al." “Come on! He’s here for, what, the night and then gone tomorrow morning? When will you see him again?” She asked. You paused, honestly unsure when you'd see Hoseok again. “Now or never, Y/N. How much longer can you debate this?” “I know,” you replied. “I’ll do it later tonight.” Around nine-thirty, the party was dying down, with only a few guests scattered around the venue helping to clean up. You made eye contact with Allie, who was tending to the chairs, who nudged towards Hoseok’s direction. Now or never. You said in your head. “Can I speak to you, Hoseok?” You asked, walking up to him. “For sure!” He replied. You led both of you to a secluded part of the venue, away from listeners. “Did you enjoy the show?” You asked. “Yeah! You did a fantastic job, Y/N. I love how everything turned out, the colours, the recycled fabrics were great—and your suit! I can’t believe you made it,” Hoseok complimented, stepping back to look at your attire. “Thank you,” you blushed. You gave a quick look around to make sure no one was around. “Is everything alright, Y/N? You’re looking around as if they’re spies around.” He gasped. “Are there spies around? What secret don’t they know?” “I don’t want to have sex with you anymore.” You abruptly stated. A stretch of silence. Hoseok’s expression was a mixture of surprise and concern. “What?” “I can’t have sex with you anymore.” “You can’t or don’t want to? Is it something I did?” “Yes? No? In a way?” You pondered. You took a few deep breaths. "I like you, Hoseok—possibly even love you.” You ran your hand through your hair. “I know we agreed not to catch feelings, so I think we should stop having sex.” You watched his expression shift from some form of being happy to disappointment. “You know I cannot date with work,” he explained, "with the fans, touring, and whatnot, I cannot date someone. And you have your company to work on." “I know,” you replied. “But do you like me back?” You asked. “I do—” “You do?” You were on the verge of hugging him, but he stepped back. You looked at him, confused. “We can’t—” “Why?” “I literally just told you, Y/N. With work, dating wouldn’t allow it. I already have people—” He choked on his words. “People who wish I was dead, j-just for being me.” “Hoseok—” You reached out to him, but he gently pushed you away. “No,” he objected, “I’m fine. I just don’t want to add you to the mess.” “You can’t decide that for me.” You retorted. “I understand that you don’t want to add me to it, but I’m okay with it. I don't care what other people would say about us. They're not in the relationship, we are—" “But what if I care?” He said, almost too quiet for you to hear. “I’m the happy guy of BTS, who’s dedicated to his work.” “But are you truly happy?” You peered into him. “Yeah,” he replied, avoiding eye contact, “but it gets really hard sometimes.” “So, let me help, Hoseok,” you pleaded. "I don't need to be helped! I'm not another project for you to work on.” He thundered. “You know that’s not what I meant.” You seethed. “Let’s just drop it, okay? We’re not dating, that’s it.” He dictated. “Fine.” You replied. “Have a safe trip back home.” You left without another word, trying your best not to cry. Out of all the ways you thought he'd respond, this took you off guard. Hoseok wasn't one to push you away, but here he was doing so. “Fuck this,” you whimpered, walking up to Allie. “I’m going back to the hotel, sorry,” you said, turning away as soon as possible. “Y/N!”

You washed your face and hoped into the shower—the warm water soothing your sore muscles and emotions. You couldn’t tell if it was the water or your tears streaming down your face.

What else did you expect? Hoseok had a point: with his work, he couldn’t date someone. And it was ridiculous that Hoseok would want to date you.

However, instead of sulking over Hoseok, you decided to have a bath and put on a facemask.

The room’s phone rang while you were starting the bath.

“Hello?”

“Hello, is this Y/N Y/L/N?

“Speaking,” you confirmed.

“Great! There’s a man here, named,” a muffled noise, “Hoseok Jung.”

“Tell him I’m busy, please,” you replied.

Another muffled noise. “Hoseok says he's sorry and that he has ice cream—cookie dough. But if he’s dangerous, I can call the police.”

“No, no. God no,” you said.

You bit your lip. "You can send Hoseok up."

“Okay. However, if there’s anything wrong, please try to press the red button on the receiver. I will check back with you in an hour. If there’s no response, I’ll get someone to check on you.” They informed.

“Thank you,” you replied, slightly shocked by their concern.

You hung up.

A few minutes later, you heard a knock on the door. You tightened your robe.

You checked the peephole before cracking the door open.

“Hi,” you greeted.

“Hey," he smiled. "I'm sorry for leaving you like that at the party. It was sudden and insensitive. I should have been more considerate of your feelings rather than shutting you off.”

“I was just—scared. I don’t know what it’s going to be like for us. And I don't want you to fix me—but I like you, a lot—so I brought cookie dough ice cream and two spoons—"

“Do you want to come in?” You interrupted his nervous rambling.

“Yes, thank you,” he chuckled.

Hoseok still wore the suit from the fashion show, but his jacket was folded over his arm, and his dress shirt was unbuttoned lower.

“Oh, you’re running the bath,” he noticed. "We can deal with this later if it's a bad time."

“No, it’s alright. I’ll just turn off the water.” You replied, going to the bathroom to do so.

When you came back, Hoseok was sitting on the edge of your bed.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” You asked, sitting beside him.

He opened the ice cream tub, setting the lid on the desk and handing you one of the spoons.

“I was thinking you could talk more, actually; about how you feel," he replied, giving you the tub and angling himself to face you. "I just want to listen to you this time."

You gave a brief smile before spooning a small piece of ice cream into your mouth.

“Well, I just feel like we’re in this grey area of being really close but having sex. And we both like each other, and we said at the venue, and I just feel like we should just date then.” You set the ice cream and spoon down on the desk. “I get that work complicates things for you. But once we’ve confessed our feelings, I just don’t know what to call this—this friendship?”

Hoseok nodded.

"So, if you don't want to date, that's completely fine. I understand. However, we can't keep having sex like we used to; because I have feelings for you now, and you said you do too, so it's not a good mix."

“That’s fair,” he acknowledged.

“But what do you think? Like, how do you feel about us?” You asked.

He paused and set his spoon on the desk with yours. “I want to date you, Y/N. I just don’t want to get you hurt.” He softly grasped your hands. “The industry can be toxic, and I don’t want to subject you to that.”

“I understand,” you replied, “but I want to date you too, regardless of all the other bullshit. As cheesy as it sounds, all I want is you, Hoseok.”

Hoseok smiled but then pretended to gag.

“Hobi! I was romantic."

“Sorry, but that was so cheesy.” He cringed.

“So, do you want to just start dating, then?” You proposed. “We have the ice cream here; we can pretend to get to know each other more.”

He chuckled. “Sure. Let’s do that.”

Hoseok stood up and held his hand out to you. “Y/N Y/L, will you go on a date with me?”

You laughed but composed yourself. “I would love to, Jung Hoseok.” You took his hand, and he immediately sat back down.

“So, Y/N,” Hoseok began, handing you the partially melted ice cream and your spoon, “what do you like to do on the weekends?”

.

.

1 year later.

“I’m thinking of moving to Korea,” you said. Hoseok turned to you, surprised. “Really? But you’re not based here.” “I know,” you acknowledged, “but I can fly in and skype, or whatever. I can have a home base here, too.” You were visiting Hoseok for a couple weeks before you had to go back home for a clothing launch. Both of you were cuddling at his place when you brought up your idea of moving to Korea. “Of course, it wouldn’t be immediate. I would need to sort things out with Westley and Rachel and organize a place to stay here and a work area. The company is sturdy enough to handle the change.” You reasoned. “You could move in with me,” he suggested, turning his body to face you. “Are you sure?” “Yeah, why not. We’ve been dating for a while now, and it makes sense.” He shrugged. “Unless you don’t want to.” You kissed him. “No, I want to.” Both of you discussed what your move would be like and imagined living together. If you were to look back at how your relationship with Hoseok progressed, you would be shocked. In a matter of a few months, you and Hoseok went from friends to romantic partners. Although you had not come out publicly about your relationship, many people had a sense it existed; but that didn’t matter. You and Hoseok were in a secure and healthy relationship. It was long distanced, but you two made it work by visiting each other when you could and calling almost every day. The only thing that didn’t change was the sex—although it had gotten better. Nevertheless, so much has happened over the past year. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

#jhope bts #jhopoe fanfic #jhope smut #jhope fluff #jhope angst #hoseok smut #hoseok angst #hoseok fluff #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #bts fanfic #ficswithluv #houseofddaeng #hobiuary2021 #hodevent

[wearfinethingsalltoowell]

Downton AU Snippet 2:

Set almost immediately after the last snippet

The usual rowdiness of the Downton Abbey servants hall was suddenly turned to silence as everyone turned to face the person who had just appeared at the door (the ladies looking especially impressed with what they saw).

Clearly used to this, the man at the doorway was unbothered.

“I’m here to see Mr. Carson.”

Once it became clear that no one else was moving, Richard walked towards the group.

“Who’s this?”

“Jimmy Kent, at your service.”

“I’m Mr. Ellis, Mr. Crawley’s valet.”

“And I’m hoping to be His Lordship’s footman.”

—————————————————————-

Later, Richard was playing a hand of cards with Thomas (which he now had permission to call him!), when Jimmy walked into the servants hall, and Richard motioned for him to come join them, ignoring the look on Thomas’ face that begged him not to.

“You got the job, then?” Richard asked once Jimmy had reached them.

Jimmy nodded, and then turned to Thomas.

“Mr. Barrow, I hear you were a footman once?”

Thomas gave a short, slightly annoyed nod, so Richard took over the conversation.

“He was, and so was I. If you need anything, you can ask one of us.”

When Jimmy had thanked them and walked away, Thomas looked across the table at Richard.

“Really? I had this exact same conversation with Miss OBrien about her dim witted nephew very recently. If the new additions to the house want to move up, they can learn and work.”

“Since I only arrived here a month ago, should I assume I’m included in this diatribe?” Richard teased.

Thomas scoffed. “Of course not, but I was a footman for two years, and I’m only His Lordship’s valet because his old one is in prison. Forgive me if I’m not terribly keen giving away what took me years to learn.”

“Well, I see Miss OBrien shoving her nephew in front of Carson daily, so unless you fancy all of us being under her rule by Christmas, you’ll join me in helping the new footman.”

Thomas muttered something that sounded like begrudging agreement, and glanced back at his cards.

___________________________

A few days later, Jimmy pulled Richard aside at the entrance to the servants hall, looking utterly panicked.

Before Richard could even ask what was wrong, Jimmy was speaking.

“Carson’s asked me to wind the clocks.”

“Wind the clocks? Your first week as footman?”

“Yep.”

“That doesn’t seem like anything I’ve heard a footman doing,” Richard said, as confused as Jimmy was by the butler’s request, “Did you tell him you don’t know how?”

“No! Being trusted with something like that is first footman caliber work! I thanked him and ran off to see if you knew how to do it!”

Richard laughed, “And you think your chances of being first footman will improve if you ruin the Crawley’s clocks?”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” Jimmy sighed, visibly deflated.

“And that’s what I’m here for.”

“Why are you so willing to help me?”

“I’ve only been here about a month myself. Us new guys have to stick together,” Richard said with a smile.

Jimmy’s face seemed to light up. “Figured everyone in the house already liked Alfred better.”

“He’s already got his aunt in his corner. Now, let’s figure out what you’re gonna do about those clocks.”

Unfortunately, they were standing at the bottom of a busy flight of stairs, which someone was bound to come down at some point.

Fortunately, the person who came down them was Thomas.

“What’s this, then?” Thomas asked upon reaching them.

“Thank the Lord you’re here,” Richard started, “when you were a footman, did Carson ever ask you to wind the clocks.”

“I volunteered. I worked with clocks my entire childhood, I knew how. Why?”

As things began to make more sense, Richard said, “It seems Mr. Carson now thinks that clock winding is a basic skill a footman should have. He just asked poor Jimmy to do it.”

“And he agreed?” Thomas asked mockingly, looking at the man in question, “That seems short sighted.”

Richard chuckled, “We covered that already. Could you show him how to do it?”

Thomas could think of a thousand things he’d rather do with his afternoon than help a footman learn to wind clocks. But he found it difficult to refuse a request from Richard, and eventually said, “Fine, meet me at the grandfather clock in ten minutes,” before smiling at Richard one more time and disappearing back up the stairs.

Richard was then forced to pretend he didn’t notice the knowing smirk Jimmy was shooting at them.

____________________

Next time is probably a brief Mary/Matthew hanging out w/their kid interlude (because of course Matthew lives in this too) and then back to chronic order.

#downton abbey au #downton abbey #downton abbey fanfiction #downton abbey fanfic #thomas barrow x richard ellis #thomas barrow #richard ellis #barellis #barris #downton abbey movie

[swan-of-sunrise]

The Winter Soldier (Chapter Three)

Summary: Steve drops by the VA and listens in on one of Sam’s meetings and later that evening, (Y/N) reflects on her unusual day with the super-soldier.

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings/Disclaimers: Brief discussion of PTSD

A/N: Hope you all enjoy!

Chapter Three (Previous Chapter)

After placing sugar packets and stirring sticks next to the coffee maker, (Y/N) took a seat beside the refreshment table and watched as Sam took his place at the front of the crowded room and began the meeting. One by one, each person would share their struggles with PTSD and how it had affected their lives as civilians; with each person’s story, (Y/N)’s heart clenched in sympathy. These vets have put their lives on the line to protect us, they don’t deserve to suffer, she thought with an inward sigh. She couldn’t count the number of times she’d woken Sam up from a nightmare or had seen him suddenly grow silent and have to distract him from his memories of war. But it was wonderful that people like Sam, people who face the same exact struggles, run programs to help each other out.

Seeing movement out of the corner of her eye, (Y/N) turned to see Steve Rogers leaning against the doorframe of the room, his arms crossed over his chest as he listened to the meeting. Smiling and tugging her sweater tighter around her, (Y/N) turned her attention back to the woman speaking. “The thing is I think it’s getting worse. A cop pulled me over last week, he thought I was drunk. I swerved to miss a plastic bag. I thought it was an IED.”

Sam nodded. “Some stuff you leave there, other stuff you bring back. It’s our job to figure out how to carry it. Is it gonna be in a big suitcase or in a little man-purse? It’s up to you.” Everyone clapped and began standing, so (Y/N) jumped to her feet to man the table. She greeted each person with a smile as they grabbed cookies and filled their cups with coffee, delighted to see so many new faces among the usual crowd. After about twenty minutes of mingling and making small talk, the crowd started to leave so she decided to begin packing up the refreshments as Sam bid them goodbye out in the hallway.

“Don’t take those away those cookies just yet, darlin’, I wanna bring one home to my gran’daughter.”

(Y/N) looked up to see Gary, an older man with an incredibly bushy grey beard and a Vietnam War veteran’s baseball cap, and she smiled brightly before offering him the half-full container. “Take the whole thing if you’d like, Gary, and be sure to say hello to Katie for me!”

That made Gary grin toothily as he took the container. “You know, darlin’, you’re sweeter than this whole damn box of cookies. I’ll be seein’ you next week!” (Y/N) gave him a small wave and resumed cleaning as he limped away.

“You’re pretty popular around here.”

She turned away from the coffee pot and smiled when she saw Steve standing before her, his blue eyes glimmering and his hands shoved in his pockets. “If I am, it’s only ‘cause I give away free cookies; the vets that visit all have a massive sweet-tooth, you know.”

“Are you a vet, too?”

“Nah, I just work here.” She tossed several used paper coffee cups into the trash and chuckled. “A year ago, when I finally graduated with my master’s degree, I started writing my novel and since I was writing about soldiers and government agents I needed to interview some about their personal experiences. So, I decided to come down to the VA. I met with Sam, who had just started working here, and asked if I could interview some people for my writing. He agreed, and I spent the whole day just talking to the vets. All sorts of vets, too; men, women, old, young, you name it. And at the end of the day, after hearing about their struggles with PTSD and how hard their lives became once they returned to civilian life, I went back to Sam and asked if he needed any part-time employees. He said yes, and we’ve been best friends ever since.” Steve smiled, and the impressed look he was giving her caused her to blush so she hurriedly changed the subject. “So, did everything work out earlier? It’s just that it seemed a little serious, so I hope that everything’s okay.”

Steve’s smile fell a little but he nodded. “Yeah, everything’s fine…I was just visiting a friend who hasn’t been doing too well lately.”

(Y/N) impulsively placed a comforting hand on his arm. “I’m sorry, that sounds difficult. I hope they get better soon.” The ghost of a sympathetic smile pulled at the corner of her mouth and Steve’s eyes softened after a moment; realizing that her hand was still resting on his arm, she hastily withdrew it and began folding the tablecloth to keep her hands busy. “Um, Sam and I were planning on going out to dinner after we finish packing up, you’re welcome to join us if you want.”

She glanced up at him and saw a glint of something in his eyes, but it disappeared before she could get a closer look. “Thanks for the offer but I’ll have to pass; I’ve already got some plans later…”

“That’s okay, maybe next time!” (Y/N) smiled, but inside she couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment.

Just then, Sam walked into the room with a stack of pamphlets in his hands. “Pretty good turnout today, huh? Five new faces and Captain America!”

Steve chuckled. “Well, I’m glad that I stopped by.” He glanced at the clock on the wall before continuing, “I should probably get going, but it was good to see you two again.”

(Y/N) shook his hand. “I’m not gonna lie, it was a little weird seeing you in your own exhibit earlier but it was great hanging out with you!”

“You too, and good luck with For Queen and Country, I’ll keep my eye out for it in the bookshops.” His bright smile caused her heartbeat to once-again quicken as their hands dropped.

“It was good seeing you too, Cap, you made me look really awesome in front of Maria, so thanks for that.” Sam grinned and shook his outstretched hand.

“Glad I could help, Sam; see you two around!” Steve gave them a small wave before turning and walking out of the room.

Tearing her eyes away from the doorway, (Y/N) resumed her cleaning and glanced at Sam. “What do you feel like tonight, Thai or burgers?”

Sam grinned and began unplugging the coffee maker. “Burgers. So, did you have a nice day chilling with your new boyfriend, Booksmart?”

“Sam…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later that evening, (Y/N) sat down at her desk and put her music on shuffle before flicking through her notebook to the pages of notes she’d taken that day at the Smithsonian. She bit back a smile when she recognized the difference between the carefully printed notes she’d taken by herself versus the illegible scribbles taken from the elderly security guard’s long-winded explanations. He was kind of a fast talker, wasn’t he, she thought to herself; as a way of honoring the enthusiastic old man, she ultimately decided to name one of her minor characters after him.

“Stan.” She sounded out the name and gave a satisfied nod. “Yeah, that’s got a nice ring to it…”

(Y/N), now finally having all the information she needed to best describe Soviet Cold War missiles, wrote for nearly three hours straight, only taking breaks to skip songs or to glance down at her notes. She would’ve probably continued writing well into the next morning except that her eyesight was beginning to blur around the edges, an unfortunate symptom of exhaustion.

Well, you have had a pretty busy day today, (Y/N) silently reasoned as she saved her evening’s progress and booted down her laptop. Since Sam was already fast asleep in the room across the hall, she went about her bedtime routine as quietly as she could, washing her face and brushing her teeth before tiptoeing back into her room. She slipped on her mismatched pajama set and was about to crawl into bed when the record player on her bedside table caught her eye. Making her way over to what Sam affectionately called ‘The DJ Bookcase,’ she scanned the shelf devoted solely to her record collection until the right one stood out to her, and then she carefully placed the record on the turntable and lowered the needle. After a moment, the soft tones of Glenn Miller’s ‘Stardust’ filled her room and with a smile, she finally got into bed and turned to watch the record spinning on the turntable.

Thoughts of the super-soldier who’d inspired her choice in bedtime music began to fill her mind, making her smile softly to herself. (Y/N) had enjoyed seeing Steve again, even if it had been in a highly unconventional place like the Smithsonian, and she quietly marveled at how effortless it had been to talk to the larger-than-life man. He really was different from how the history books portrayed him: not only was he kind and polite, but he was also intelligent, sarcastic and extremely understanding. Also a little lost, I expect, (Y/N) thought, remembering his guarded expressions and withdrawn replies whenever she’d ask him a personal question; it couldn’t be easy adjusting to a brand-new reality, especially without a fixed support system to rely on.

“Hopefully he ends up getting the help he needs.” (Y/N) murmured to herself, her sleepy eyes continuing to watch the rotating record as more thoughts of Steve Rogers filled her mind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I hope you all liked my little Stan Lee cameo in this chapter and the last :) I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4BenknAqQQnOWY8NmSa23V

Tagging: @mrs-obrien​ @lahoete​ @awkward117​ @cminr​ @momc95​ @awkwardnesshabitat​ @marinettepotterandplagg​ @khuang3​ @supersouthy​ @benakenalove​ @brooke0297​ @hufflepeople​ @becausewelie​​ @outoftheregular @supreme-tantrum​

Chapter Four

“The Winter Soldier” Masterlist

#steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers #sam wilson #captain america fic #captain america the winter soldier

[moonelf19]

Did y’all really think I wasn’t going to Widofjord meta at even a whiff of crumbs??

I am.

FIRST OF ALL

What is Caleb doing. With the wand. And the glass. And now the fabricated cat.

Liam is planting seeds and I’m standing at the garden gates shouting “WHATCHA GOT OVER THERE MR OBRIEN??????” because Liam grows the prettiest garden ok I just want to know what he’s got going on

Anyway, besides the fact that Caleb immediately shouted that nobody should judge Fjord at the hint of shame (Caleb your drama is showing) and when he leaned over to mutter about mating rituals to Fjord while the lesbians were being adorable, there wasn’t much widofjord interaction this week.

Except for an INTERESTING thing I noticed.

When Fjord and Jester were talking, it was nice seeing Fjord try and help Jester with *gestures vaguely* all of the crap she has to deal with right now. After a while though I realized there was possibly some double speak going on.

Fjord: “What if you tell them that [their connection] is gone... what if they’re not happy?”

Fjord: “And moreover... you were the first for him, my concern is they might be angry with him.”

Jester: “IDK, are you... angry that [they aren’t] next to you all the time having tea? Or is that what you expect?”

Fjord: “My expectations are low.”

Jester: “How do you know it’s real? You just assume, because it feels special?” *Goes on to talk about how they might get that feeling from other things*.

Fjord: “I hope for that.”

Jester: “Do you think it’s mean to keep them from [an actual connection]?”

Fjord: “Shit, I hadn’t thought of that. You mean someone looking for an actual connection?”

Jester: “What do [they] mean to you? What do [they] actually do for you?”

Fjord: “What I know of you is that you really value the friendship, the trust. the camaraderie, the protection, the ear... if that was removed or reduced I feel like people might be upset. And people might leave- or they might find that connection somewhere else! ... I certainly wouldn’t want to string someone else along if that was available and if that was what they were searching for.”

Jester: *Starts talking about how the followers of the traveller could find connection with eachother and start what amounts to a church*

Fjord: *looks interested until he realizes she is talking about the traveller then rolls his eyes a bit before nodding along*

Jester: “And they can be friends!”

Fjord: “That would be wonderful.”

Jester: “Would it be so bad [to keep living with a false pretense]”

Fjord: “I’m all about letting people live their life, so long as it doesn’t interfere with anyone else. But knowing that on the other side of that, it’s not reciprocated? I can’t answer that for you Jester.”

Fjord: “I don’t care about 200 people. I care about you. As long as you are getting what you want out of this, you aren’t forcing yourself to be something you think you need to be for him, you can do whatever you want to.”

--

Out of context, this conversation has a WILD tone.

It’s easy to read it as Fjord placing himself in the Traveller’s place. If he DOESN’T have feelings for Jester, not the kind she’s looking for, he doesn’t want to lead her on.

“They might find that connection somewhere else!”

“I certainly wouldn’t want to string someone else along”

“On the other side of that, it’s not reciprocated.”

I really don’t know if Fjord has feelings for Jester, and I don’t know if Jester still has feelings for Fjord. But this convo could be the first of an easy letdown, if you ask me. Fjord switches easily from talking about what Jester values to how “people” might feel if that gets reduced. He switches from Jester to the followers and back. He knows Jester is being letdown by the traveller and is trying to help her cope with that by pointing out how the other followers might feel.

And then Caleb goes over to Yasha at the fire?

Caleb: “There’s more lightness around your eyes of late”

Caleb: “I can’t give myself this advice, I don’t think I can convince myself this advice, but maybe I can convince you. You have been doing good for this group, good for you. You have worth and value. And promise of something.”

Caleb:”I don’t know why I came over, I just... we are the quiet ones. It would do us good to talk more...”

Yasha: “I would like that.” *looks out at everyone*

Caleb:”Yasha... let yourself a little happiness. Even if it’s helping other people.”

Yasha: “I’m trying. I think it’s working.” *hugs Caleb*

--

The character development is *chefs kiss* but like

A: Fjord trying to help Jester accept that some relationships are not what she first thought they would be, that as she matures and sees more of the world and how big it is things change and sometimes relationships aren’t the fantasy she had built up in her mind

B: Caleb trying to tell himself that he deserves nice things, he has value and promise. When we know that one of his biggest scars from Trent was his burned heart. Which is referenced in Fjord’s playlist.

I’m just... you know... saying....

#critical role #widofjord #meta #long post #WELL THATS JUST WHAT I THINK

[axwalker]

You’ll never walk alone

Wszystkiego najlepszego z okazji urodzin !!!!

I said it before in my previous post (here), but I’ll say it one million times again:

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!! You’re one of my closest friends here and I love you so so so much!!

I know we’re living a hard, difficult world right now, but I hope you can find a way to enjoy your Birthday the way you deserve it! 

Warnings: SMUT (that I know of, but I’m sure someone who’s really motivated can find something else 🤷🏽‍♀️.)

A/N: This is an AU but it takes place somewhere during the social season.

I hope this covers everything you were asking for. It has a slow burn, your favorite soccer team and a bit of Dublin because I know how much you were looking forward to go. DON’T WORRY, YOU’LL GO BEFORE YOU KNOW IT!

Word count: Euh… (coughs nervously) You asked for a slow burn so 7,000 words… `

PERMATAG: @burnsoslow​ @pedudley​ @mskaneko​

Thank you to to the beautiful birthday girl ( @mskaneko​ )  for the beautiful edit in the mood board. To @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore​ for beta reading, and to @pedudley​ for  reading and for the incredible mood board that closes this fic. 

Alexis snuck out of the palace and called an Uber that took her to the local Irish pub in less than fifteen minutes.

The bar was a cozy place with large wooden panels, solid counters and Irish music.

She was about to sit on one of the stools when she felt someone’s eyes behind her, staring at her. She turned her head and there he was, Drake Walker sitting in a booth with a tumbler of whiskey in his hand. He raised his glass towards her, trying to ignore the fact that his heart had skipped a beat when he had seen her.

After ordering a pint, she sat next to him with her usual perky attitude. “What are you doing out of you cabin in the woods, Walker?”

He squinted at her “The real question is what are you doing here, O’Brien? Out of the palace without a guard.”

She shrugged. “I wanted to watch the match, and I’m staying. You can take me back to the palace as soon as Barcelona kicks Liverpool’s ass”

God, she was exasperating. “Of course, you would be a Barcelona’s fanatic.”

“You mean the best club in the world?” She took off her leather jacket, she was wearing the famous blue and scarlet Barcelona’s shirt.

He growled. “You can’t sit with me wearing that.”

She gave him a flirtatious look. “Would you prefer if I took it off?”

Sometimes, he swore she was actively trying to torture him. He took her chin with his fingers fixing his piercing eyes on hers.

“You don’t want to play that game with me, O’Brien.” He said in a hoarse voice.

She swallowed hard, her heart beating furiously in her chest. When he finally tore his eyes away from her, she took a long sip of beer.

After a few silent minutes, she spoke. “I can’t believe you’re actually rooting for Liverpool. They haven’t won a Champions league in thirteen years.”

He growled. “I’m so sure we’re beating Barcelona tonight, that I bought tickets for the second leg.”

She sat on the booth cross-legged hugging a cushion. “You seem awfully confident that your team, a team that hasn’t win in ages, is going to beat the best team there is.” She gave him a confident smile. “Want to bet?”

“The best team…?” He shook his head. “What do you want to bet?”

“If Barcelona wins tonight, you give me your semi-final tickets.”

He raised his hands shocked. “Are you crazy, do you know how much I paid for those tickets?”

She reached for his arm and squeezed it with a fake empathic expression on her face. “Don’t worry, Drake if I were rooting for such losers, I wouldn’t want to bet the tickets either.”  

He considered her proposal for a minute, well aware that she was provoking him on purpose, but he just couldn’t back out when she was challenging him. “I’m in, but if you lose you have to get me tickets for next year’s matches. All the matches.” He saw her stunned expression, so he added irritated. “You’ll be queen next year O’Brien, it’d be easy for you to get them.”

She didn’t know why but it really bothered her that he would assume she was going to accept Liam’s proposal. She reached for his hand anyway. “Deal, Walker.”

For the next two hours they sat next to each other, drinking and bickering playfully. In the halftime he challenged her to a game of darts, she wasn’t bad at all, and she certainly looked extremely cute when she concentrated but he beat her easily, reaching 501 points in ten minutes.

However, at the end of the second half of the match, he was seriously pissed, not only he had lost his precious semi-final tickets, but he also had to put up with her cocky attitude while she celebrated Barcelona’s victory.

After a while of singing and cheering with a group of Spaniards, she came back to the table, ecstatic, and extended her hand towards him pointing at her palm. “The tickets, Walker.”

He groaned “Do you think I carry them with me all the time, O’Brien? I’ll give them to you at the palace.”

She laughed truly enjoying her victory. “So grumpy! I didn’t know you were such a sore loser, Drake. I’ll go get another pint. What are you drinking?”

He rolled his eyes. “Dalmore, fifteen years. Just tell them to put it on my tab. I come here often.”

She mimicked a fake surprise. “That’s so shocking!”

He laughed in spite of himself. She added playfully. “And Dalmore, eh? Being a veterinarian definitely pays.”

He smirked shrugging “I don’t need much, O’Brien, but I definitely need good whiskey. How do you know Dalmore?”

“My grandpa loved whiskey. Especially that one.” Her eyes watered thinking about her grandfather but she shook her head to chase the tears.

Drake saw her eyes and his heart tightened; he raised his hand to stroke her cheek, but squeezed her shoulder instead, pouring his eyes into hers to make her feel comforted without words.

It worked because she gave him a small smile, he had rolled his sleeves, so she rubbed his forearm with her fingers softly, almost tenderly, making him crazy. Why did she have to make it so fucking difficult being close to her? He stood up.

“We better leave, Obrien. It’s late and tomorrow we have to travel to Applewood.”

She didn’t want the night to end. For a minute she allowed herself to think about the life she would have had with Drake if they were a couple, if she had met him alone. If she hadn’t been so stupid to be blindsided by Liam’s charm, but when he abruptly stood up, she understood. He didn’t feel the same about her. She had to forget her stupid crush and move on.

They drove back in silence, both of them embarrassed, both of them hurt and filled with unspoken feelings.

The next day, Alexis felt much better. She had drunk too much the previous night and the alcohol had put crazy ideas in her head. It was clear that Drake only saw her as an annoying friend, so she would do the same.

Liam was different, even if the little spark that had initiated at the Statue of Liberty hadn’t become the fire she was hoping for, he was there for her. He had been clear about his feelings for her. Maybe love wasn’t the crazy passion she thought. Maybe love was calm, peaceful and reliable.

Or maybe she just needed to think for a few days, put some distance between her and that stupid competition. She thought about the football tickets she had won. She was definitely going to that semi-final, Drake, Liam and royal court be damned.

She knew Liam would be having breakfast in the main hall, so she went looking for him. She entered the hall and stopped in her tracks. Liam was having breakfast, but he wasn’t alone.

She cleared her throat. “Hi guys!”

Liam’s face lit up seeing her. “Lady Alexis. Good morning.”

Drake gestured a quick hello with his hand and turned back to reading his paper.

Mr. Polite as usual. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you, Li. I want to leave the court for a few days. I’m going to England for the semi-finals of the Champions league”

Liam stopped eating and looked at her puzzled. “That’s in two weeks from now, Alexis. The coronation is in less than three weeks. I would’ve expected that you wanted to be here.”

“Yes! Of course, Li. It’s only for a couple days. England is four hours away. I just want to watch the match. It’s… important for me”

Liam was uncomfortable, he didn’t want her to leave. Even if he couldn’t tell her yet, he had decided he was going to choose her as his queen. And her place was there with him not at some dumb football competition. “Where did you even get the tickets?”

Drake took his head out of the paper. “we made a bet and she won them from me.”

Liam grinned “I told you Liverpool was going to lose, Drake. You have to pick a winner’s team.” He turned to Alexis, speaking to her in a soft voice. “As a suitor and especially as the woman I care about, I-.”

Drake stood up so fast, he almost spilled his coffee. “I don’t think I should be part of this conversation.”

Liam raised his hand. “Actually, Drake, yes. Stay. I was going to say that I care very deeply about you, Alexis. I can’t let you go alone because you’re a member of the royal court, you’ll need protection. Unfortunately, I can’t spare any guards right now, but if Drake accepts, he can go with you. He has trained with Bastien plenty of times and can assure your protection.”

Drake couldn’t allow that. Last night, he had barely slept thinking about her. Two days abroad and he’d go crazy. “I can’t. I have a lot of things planned for that week, Li. I’m sorry.”

Liam squinted at him, puzzled. “You were going to go to the semi-finals anyway, that’s why you bought the tickets.”

Fuck! “Yes, but as Alexis won them, I made new appointments.” He was a terrible liar.

Alexis saw through it. “I don’t need a glorified, grumpy baby-sitter, Liam. Thank you very much.”

“I’m sorry, Alexis, but you’re under the crown’s protection until the end of the Social season. I can’t let you go without a guard; it would be terribly irresponsible from me.” He had made up his mind, and she had to start to get used to the fact that a future queen had responsibilities and responded to him.

Alexis was fuming, she was seriously considering quitting her role as a suitor when Drake spoke seeing how much she wanted to go. “It’s fine, I’ll go with her.” He smirked at her “In exchange of the other ticket.”

Liam started to regret his offer. “I really think it’s better if you stay here, lady Alexis.”

She shook her head. She was going to go, no matter what and as she didn’t need the second ticket anyway, she accepted, strangely happy. “The second ticket is yours, Drake! I have to go get ready to bake an apple pie  for the competition.” Before leaving the room, she turned to grin at Drake. “And thank you.” He felt his heart warming up with her smile.

After breakfast, Drake went to the stables. He needed a good day of intense work to forget the stupidest deal he had ever accepted.

It was already difficult to be around her and pretend to be only her friend when they were surrounded by the other suitors and the madness of the social season. Now, he was going to have her all for himself for two days. He shook his head at his own stupidity. She wasn’t there for him and she never would be. She was there vying for Liam’s hand. Liam, his best friend the king. The same man offering her a whole kingdom.

The truth was that Drake had never been jealous of Liam before. He had a good life, a life he enjoyed. He was passionate about his job and excelled at it. He was free to go fishing, hiking or drink a whiskey in a pub whenever he wanted.  It was a life that he had been able to choose for himself unlike Liam who would have to lead the imposed life of a king. So, no, he had never been jealous of his best friend before Alexis O’Brien had arrived in the court. And now, every time Liam so much as looked at her, he wanted to punch him in the face. He definitely shouldn’t have accepted to take her to Liverpool.

Shaking his head, he put on his white coat and his rubber boots and went to check up on Mirabelle.

The next few days he tried to avoid her as much as he could, he had convinced himself that he only needed a little distance, a little space and whatever he was feeling, would naturally go away and they would be able to go together to Liverpool as friends.

A few nights before leaving, he saw her coming out of the palace and walk towards the maze only dressed in a big sweater and some sort of pajama shorts. He debated with himself, but in an impulse, he decided to go after her, just to make sure she was fine.

When he approached the center of the maze, he saw her, and his heart tugged. She was sitting on a bench with her knees up, her head buried in them, clearly crying. He sat next to her, and silently rubbed her back, soothing her. Slowly her sobs stopped, he leaned towards her and cupped her face turning her face to him.

“Do you want to talk about it, Lexie?”

Her heart jumped in her chest. He had never called her anything else besides O’Brien before.  She knew she could open up to him. “My grandfather, Noah,  died exactly one year ago of a heart attack. I really miss him.”

“I’m sorry, O’Brien” his heart broke seeing her so sad “Come here.” He opened his arms and she snuggled against him.

“He and granny practically raised me. He arrived in the States when he was twenty-two years old, but he never lost his accent” She smiled. “He used to call me his little ‘stor’. It means treasure in Irish... He’s …was the bravest man, I’ve ever met.”

He smiled down at her and brushed her cheek with his thumb to wipe a falling tear. “And most importantly he loved Dalmore whiskey.”

She laughed through her tears.  “Yes, almost as much as he loved granny. His dream was to come back to Dublin with me and show me Trinity College where he went to school. He said that I would love the library there.” She brushed another tear. “I’m sorry, I’m such a mess.”

“Shh, I got you, it’s okay. It’s okay, O’Brien” He hugged her tighter “You never have to apologize to me for how you feel.” He had never held her so closely. Her cherry scent was intoxicating, “I always be here for you. I promise.”

She looked at him hurt. “Like you had been these past weeks?”

He shook his head. “I’m just giving you and Liam some space, O’Brien. We’re only friends and he deserves you”

She stood up trembling with fury. “I’m not a fucking prize either of you gets because you deserve it. Don’t you want to be with me?” He didn’t answer, so she insisted. “I think you feel something for me, Drake.” She waited for an answer that never came, he couldn’t tell her anything without betraying his best friend, plus, she was sad and confused and he wasn’t going to take advantage of it.  “Got it. See you at the plane. Good night.” She stormed out leaving Drake more confused than ever.

Three days later, they were ready to leave for Liverpool, Liam had insisted in lending them his private plane so they could come back directly after the match. He wanted her back fast. Drake had required to leave for Liverpool one day earlier because he had business to attend at Kentwood stables, one of Liam’s horse dealers in England.

Alexis installed herself in one of the leather seats when she saw Drake talk to the pilot.

“What was that about, Drake?”

He shrugged “I have no idea what you’re talking about, O’Brien.” He took out a deck of cards from his bag. “Poker?” He wiggled his eyebrows adorably.

She grinned mischievously. “If you don’t mind losing.”

He observed her expression and smirked, she seemed relaxed and happy as he hadn’t seen in her for a long time.

They played the whole flight to Liverpool, teasing each other, Drake was great at poker, but Alexis used to play all the time in college, so they won two games each.

He smiled cockily. “Don’t worry, O’Brien. I’ll beat you later, I was just warming up”

She rolled her eyes playfully “Yeah, suuure.”

When they got off the plane, she saw Drake talking to the pilot again. She waited with her bag for a car to pick them up from the private tarmac, but Drake shook his head.

“Come on, O’Brien. We need to catch a bus to go to the city center.”

She was happy to do something normal for once, but it was unusual. “No car to pick us up?”

He beamed, he didn’t do it often but when he did he looked so handsome it actually made her knees weak. “Not today, come on”

She followed him through the terminal, not paying much attention. When they exited the building, she turned her head and saw a big sign on the top the airport:

“Welcome to Dublin”

She stopped in her tracks, incapable to move for a second. Drake stood next to her waiting for her reaction.

When she finally spoke, she had a small lump in her throat. “How did you do? I- d” Without thinking about it, she threw her arms around his neck pulling him for a hug. He pulled her against him too, allowing himself to enjoy a few seconds of closeness with her, inhaling her shampoo, feeling her against him. When she pulled away her eyes were brighter than usual “Thank you Drake.”

His raised his hands. “Hey, I have entirely selfish motives. A friend told me about this distillery where they supposedly have great whiskey.”

They went to the B&B where Drake had booked two rooms, a cozy, small place called The Blackrock. It was perfect, the lobby was full of books with a lit fireplace and the lady at the reception was warm and kind.

Before leaving, Alexis decided to change her clothes, she had woken up too early and had lazily thrown a pair of jeans and Converses on.

It was a sunny day in May, but they were in Dublin and it was relatively cold. She decided to wear a red, short sweater dress with a V neck, a pair of tights and her Doc Martens. She put on some black eyeliner, a touch of gloss, and sprayed her Lost Cherry perfume, on her wrists and neck. She felt giddy and nervous to spend the day with him. After a last look in the mirror she took her leather jacket and went downstairs.

She waited at the lobby sitting next to the fireplace, Drake had told her that he needed to make some calls to the Veterinary clinic at the Palace. It made her smile how much he loved his job. How much he cared about it.

Drake saw her as soon as he came down the stairs but waited for her to see him, before announcing himself. At the risk of sounding like a stalker, he wanted to watch her for a few seconds, he spent so much time trying to hide whatever it was she stirred up in him that he never let himself just admire her. She was incredibly beautiful, but it was the energy she irradiated that made his heart stop every time he looked at her. He shook his head; he was quickly approaching a very dangerous territory.

He cleared his throat “I see you’re warming up by the fire.”

She grinned. A true smile, just for him. “I was waiting for you, but I’m ready to go. Do you have anything planned?”

He gave her a conspiratorial smile. “I have some things in mind. Do you trust me?”

She couldn’t help the earnest look in her eyes, when she answered. “Totally.”

They decided to walk, it was a long stroll, but they wanted to make the most of their time there. She pulled her camera out of her huge handbag and took pictures of everything she could. She loved the vibe of the city open and colorful. Everyone seemed relaxed and stress free. Even Drake. She succeeded to take two shots of him when he wasn’t looking.

He knew he only had two days with her. He was trying really hard to keep his thoughts at bay but just the way she looked at everything and the joy she transpired while they explored the city was enough to make him forget his good resolutions.

He remembered the conversation he had had with Liam the day before. They had been drinking at his office when Liam had suddenly told him that he regretted having authorized the trip.

“What do you mean?

“I thought you were my friend, and maybe you still are, but I saw you in the maze last night, Drake. You were holding her.” Seeing that his friend was about to talk, he raised his hand “Just remember who she belongs to.”

Drake felt a rush of anger, his fists immediately balling. “She doesn’t belong to anyone, Liam. She can do whatever she wants. Last night she was sad, that’s all.”

“It may be, but just in case, remember that she’s here for me. She deserves the world, she deserves to be a queen, Drake. My queen.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. Liam was right, she deserved the world and more, so he’d have to settle with being his friend.  

They had been walking more than an hour, when they saw an imposing grey building. She screamed with excitement, recognizing it immediately. Her grandfather had showed her hundreds of pictures of it while he talked about his younger years in Dublin.

He was touched to see her eyes watering at its sight but didn’t dare to do anything else but stroke her cheek with the back of his hand.

“Aww, O’Brien. Come on, let’s see that library”

They were both amazed as soon as they entered the famous Long Room. It was majestic. The sight was imposing, high wooden ceilings and walls, millions of ancient books covering the shelves, and infinite rows of marble busts honoring the greatest writers and philosophers of history.

They looked together for Jonathan Swift, Noah’s favorite writer, while Alexis told him anecdotes of her childhood, and how he used to read her ‘Gulliver’s travels’ before bed. She seemed nostalgic but happy to remember him.

“He was a great man, O’Brien. And even if I didn’t know him, I’m sure he would be very proud of you.”

She sighed. “I don’t know… I think he definitely would’ve disapproved of the idea of me competing for a prince’s hand.”

Drake looked at her intently trying to figure out how she felt about it, he knew she was in love with Liam, but at the same time he couldn’t deny that there was something else going on between the two of them, something undefined and powerful.

After seeing the Book of Kells, they spent the rest of the day exploring the city. They took pictures next to Molly Malone, ordered a Fish and chips at Presto’s, and got lost in the Jaime’s Joyce museum.

Alexis bought a colorful painting portraying the famous Dublin doors, and Drake got his wish of visiting the Roe & Coe Distillery where he felt like a little boy in a candy store. It was a perfect day. Both of them yearned for it to last, but neither of them took a step towards the other.

They want out of the distillery slightly drunk, laughing like crazy. “Last stop ‘The workman’s bar’, O’Brien. Maxwell recommended it.” He grinned, she had never seen him so happy, so relaxed. What she’do to kiss those dimples. “I’m dying to show you the Temple Bar area. Come on!” He added when he saw she was lost in her thoughts.

The pub was packed, they had trouble finding a table but after a few minutes they found one close to the stage.

He asked for their drinks, two double whiskeys. She gulped hers.

“Easy O’Brien, this is not a competition” He beamed, again, she was almost getting used to it.

She looked at him with fire in her eyes. “I can do whatever I want tonight. And I want to drink. Oh, I know! Let’s play a drinking game!” She beamed.

“You want to play a drinking game, against me O’Brien?” He arched his brows “Are you sure?”

She gave him a devilishly smile, just what he needed to go insane. “I’m not playing, Walker, I’m winning”

He chuckled “You’re such a cocky ass. Let’s see that” His phone rang, it was the clinic. “Just a sec, O’Brien. I’ll take this outside.”

When he came back, he saw her talking with one of the guys from the table next to hers. He cut the distance between them as fast as he could. When the guy saw Drake sit next to her clearly angry, he babbled a quick good night and left as fast as he could.

She witnessed his behavior extremely annoyed. He had been clear, he only wanted to be her friend. So why did he behave like that?

“What the fuck, Drake? Why are you so angry?” The words came out of her mouth before she could stop them. “Are you jealous?”

He was tired too, tired of wanting her so badly, tired of months watching her from the distance, tired of pretending he felt nothing for her, when he couldn’t think about anything else. He fixed his eyes on her. “Like crazy.”

She leaned to kiss him, but Liam was in there, present between the two of them. He cupped her face. “We can’t O’Brien. You love him, I know that.”

She shook her head. How was it possible that someone that knew her so perfectly well, that could almost see through her soul was so incapable of reading her true feelings. “Forget it, Drake. It’s fine.”

He heard the hurt in her voice and started to wonder if maybe, only maybe, she felt…something for him.

They sat in silence until someone stood up on the stage and began to sing ‘Hey, Jude’ with a voice way off key.

“Fucking Maxwell, he recommeneded a karaoke bar!” He groaned but after a few more seconds of the singer torturing The Beatles they burst into laughs easing the tension. They played several games and talked about their childhoods and years of college. After several singers, the host of the evening called Alexis’s name.

She chuckled at his puzzled expression. “I wrote my name in the list when I went to the bathroom.” She stood up and went to the stage.

For the hundredth time that day, his mouth went dry just looking at her. She was so incredibly sexy that he couldn’t think straight. The red of her dress illuminated her face, making her black eyes darker, her full lips irresistible. The dress wasn’t tight but it was short so he could admire her long legs and thanks to the V neck, part of her cleavage. He was sure no one at that pub had seen anyone more beautiful or sexy than her. He smirked when the song started. She had chosen Marvin Gaye by Charlie Puth.

She began to slowly sway her hips with the rhythm of the song and started singing. He shook his head; Not only was she softly dancing, which was enough to push him over the edge, but he had heard her sing before and knew he was doomed. She had a low voice, sultry, soft. Like a moan.

We got this king size to ourselves

Don't have to share with no one else Don't keep your secrets to yourself It's karma sutra show and tell

She was slowly moving her hips and looking at him fixedly as she sang. He stared back, his black eyes looking at her so intently she felt like she was going to combust. He leaned against his seat, with the tumbler in his hand, licking his lips, savoring the moment as much as she was, letting his eyes tell her all the things he wanted to do to her.

You got to give it up to me

I'm screaming mercy, mercy please Just like they say it in the song Until the dawn, let's Marvin Gaye and get it on

She had chosen that song on purpose. Every time he heard her sing for mercy, he felt a twitch in his pants. Every time she moved her hips asking him to get lost with her until dawn, he was tempted to go on stage, take her and fuck her right there in the bathroom.

The applause took him out of his trance. He saw her approaching the table where they were seated. Fuck, he didn’t give a damn anymore, he wanted her, painfully, agonizingly. He left the money for the drinks on the table and intercepted her on her way to the table. He gripped her hand and led her outside. He had called an Uber but they had to wait for it. Except that Drake couldn’t wait another moment, he pressed her against the first wall he found and leaned towards her; whispering in her ear. “What are you doing, O’Brien? I told you not to play those games with me.”

She smiled biting her lip, and then shrugged “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He growled burying his nose in her neck, softly smelling her cherry scent; making her shiver “Fuck! You have no idea what you do to me, do you?”

Her heart couldn’t have beat faster. She felt like it was going to go out of her chest.

He fixed his eyes on her “If you want to scream for mercy, Lexie” He brushed her neck with his fingers, as his other hand stroked the small of her back and he kissed her earlobe. “I’ll make you scream all night.”

She was physically incapable to form words, so she nodded. A nod. All it took was soft movement of her head and hell broke loose. He placed his hand on her back and pulled her against him crashing his mouth with hers, caressing her face. He nipped her lips and let his hands wander through her body, desperate, impatient.

They arrived at her room fifteen minutes later, after a painfully long Uber ride.

She tried to open the door, but Drake was behind her, his arm around her waist, his lips on the nape of his neck. “Drake, god!”

Finally, she opened the door, and they almost stumbled inside. He was still behind her, still ravaging her neck. He took her by her waist and in easy movement turned her face to him kissing her lips again. They were better than he had imagined, with a sweet taste, soft and tender at his contact. He scooped her in his arms and took her to the bed. He stopped for a second to look at her. His goddess, gorgeous, with swollen lips and messy hair.

He smiled down on her “Are you sure you want this, O’Brien?” She nodded, lost in the sandalwood.

“I didn’t hear anything, Lexie”

“Yes, I’m sure” she panted.

He locked eyes with her as he put a strand of hair behind her ear “You better be, because if I make you mine tonight, I’ll never let you go again.” She nodded again, grabbing the back of his head to crash their lips again.

They took each other's clothes in desperate movements. “Fuck, Alexis you’re so damn gorgeous.”

He grabbed her from her waist and sat on the edge of the bed with her on his lap.  She straddled him as his passionate kisses made her crazy. She threw her head back giving him full access to her breasts that he cupped kissing the spot where her jaw and neck connected, his thumbs slowly teasing her hard nipples. She moaned loudly.

“Drake, please”

Drake smiled against her neck “Are you asking for mercy, Lexie?” His question was joined by the movement of his right hand wandering through her body producing jolts of electricity everywhere he touched her, until he finally reached her core. He stroked her skin enjoying how soft she was, before circling the little nub inside of her with his thumb.

Drake growled “Fuck, Lexie, you’re so wet for me” He kept teasing her, touching everything bit of skin around her clit.

“God, Drake, you’re driving me crazy, please…” Drake’s finger suddenly entering her, not letting her finish.

“Is this what you want, Lexie?” He whispered to her ear. She nodded lazily too excited to answer. “Come for me” He slid another finger inside making her writhe against him, her breaths becoming shorter, and shorter as she clung to Drake’s back.

“Drake, I…I god Drake fuck!” She screamed when a powerful wave of heat ran across her body leaving her wasted.

Drake steadied her with his arms, stroking her back. He kissed the top of her head giving her time to recover.

“Fuck me, Drake”

He buried his mouth in her hair. “I told you I was going to make you scream for mercy.” He positioned himself with the tip of his dick rubbing her center “Look at me, O’Brien. I want to see your pretty face as I enter you”

She gasped and locked her eyes with him, her hands around his neck, his gaze piercing hers, as he entered her slowly, giving her time to adjust to him.

He growled again biting her shoulder. “Damn, Lexie you feel incredible baby, so fucking tight”

Drake didn’t know at what moment, but the energy of the room had shifted. He felt much more than a powerful lust for her. He wanted to have her, all of her, forever. They rocked their hips at the same pace, slowly at first but sooner increasing speed staring at each other as their movements became more passionate. He kissed her lips deeply, lost in her. They both felt a connection like neither of them had experienced before. He hit her spot several times making her moan his name over and over again. Without taking his eyes off of her, he stroked her clit as they both reached a point of no return.

“Drake!” She screamed his name yet again, as her muscles compressed around him. Feeling her come screaming his name pushed him over the edge, and he filled her completely.

They fell down on the bed, spent. He pulled her close to him and kissed her front.

“Are you staying?” His heart tugged at the vulnerability of her soft voice.

“If you want me to stay, O’Brien. I’ll never leave again.” She smiled against his chest as they both drifted to sleep, only to woke up a few hours later and made love again.

The morning light woke her up. He was hugging her tightly against him, with his chin on her shoulder, his breath in her ear. She had never felt safer or happier before, until a horrible thought crept into her head. What if he didn’t want her anymore? What if he decided again that she belonged with Liam?

She felt him move behind her. Maybe she should be casual about it, but she had no idea of how she would be able to do that. There was nothing casual about the way they had made love the night before. The expression was cheesy but it fit perfectly. The connection between them was deep and explosive.

His raspy voice pulled her out of her thoughts. “Hi.”

She turned to face him and her heart skipped a beat when she saw his smile and the soft expression on his eyes. “Hi.”

Lucky. That was how Drake had felt that morning when he had opened his eyes. Like the luckiest bastard in the world. She was cuddled against him, bare and exposed to him, he could hear her soft breaths, smell her delicate scent. After all the reservations he had had, and the torment of thinking she loved Liam, he was elated to be with her that morning. He didn’t doubt anymore, not after the way she had given herself to him the previous night. He felt she was awake and whispered a soft hi in her ear. When she turned to him, he couldn’t control himself much longer. He had to make her his again.

After spending the morning making love, they took a shower together and got ready for Liverpool. Neither of them dared to talk about the future, unwilling to break their little bubble with practical matters or with Liam’s name.

They took the Ferry at Holyhead and arrived at Liverpool at 6:20, just in time to grab a little something to eat and go to Anfield Stadium.

The atmosphere was intense. Liverpool’s and Barca’s flags flooded the streets, mixed with chants in English and Spanish everywhere. It was electric.

Once at their gate, they had to wait in line to enter because security was checking people’s bags. Drake turned to watch Alexis’s face, she was almost jumping with exhilaration and a warm feeling spread all over his chest. He smiled to himself, never in his wildest dreams he could’ve anticipated coming there with her. He moved behind her and looped his arms around her waist protectively, there were too many people, too much excitement, she could easily get hurt.

They located their seats and Drake left to get a couple of drinks. He shook his head amused when he came back, she had taken her jumper off revealing her Barca’s shirt, a blue spot in a sea of red.

“Do you have a death wish, O’Brien?” He chuckled.

“It’s not my fault I have good taste” She shrugged.

“Come here” He cupped her face and kissed her softly, seriously considering the idea of skipping the match and taking her to a hotel room in Liverpool. “You have no idea how much I want you all time, Lexie.”

She smiled and kissed him too, overwhelmed by all the things she was feeling.

“Have you ever come to a Liverpool’s match before?”

She shook her head no. “It’s the first time.”

“Prepare yourself, everybody talks about the emotions of Liverpool's supporters, but it’s really something else when you see it in person.”

She opened her big eyes wide. “Are you telling me that the dark and brooding Drake Walker is capable of enjoying displays of emotion?”

He chuckled. “You’re a pain in the ass, O’Brien. You know that, don’t you?” He pushed aside the hair from her face and kissed her.  

He was right; Liverpool supporter’s emotions were all over the place. They sang their hymn wholeheartedly, but it was when the first notes of ‘You’ll never walk alone’  played on the speakers that goosebumps appeared all over her arms. Every single person around her was singing passionately, pouring all their hearts on the song. One single voice for more than forty thousand supporters cheering for the players entering the field.

“Ready to lose, Walker?”

“Lose? Prepare for the greatest come back in the history of football, O’Brien”

She laughed cockily. “Love your optimist side, Drake. We’re three points ahead”

The referee blew the whistle announcing the beginning of the game.

Drake and Alexis were equally excited yelling instructions at their respective teams in a mix of English and Spanish.

At the seventh minute, Drake yelled emphatically as Origi scored the first goal. "Yes! Let's go!”

Alexis was fuming screaming in Spanish to the goalkeeper. “¡Pinche Stergen! ¡Muévete carajo!”.

He couldn’t believe how adorable she looked when she was that angry. He teased her in the hope to infuriate her even more. “That’s one, O’Brien, we have at least three more to go.” He said matter-of-factly, clearly enjoying the fire in her eyes.

The rest of the first half-time passed uneventfully, with no more goals of either team.

“You’re not so cocky now, are you, Walker?”

He groaned. “We still have a second time to go, O’Brien, don’t count your chickens just yet”

She smiled cockily, only a miracle could save Liverpool at that point. However, sixteen minutes after the whistle for the second time, the miracle happened when Wijnaldum scored two goals in a two-minute interval.

Twenty-three minutes later Origi nailed the final nail in the coffin scoring an historical goal, eliminating Barcelona from the competition.

Alexis screamed furiously at Stergen, Piqué and the rest of the team. Drake stopped his celebration for a minute to watch her as she jumped on her seat screaming. Her energy was exciting, contagious. There in the middle of a football match after the most incredible night of his life, he realized something he knew for a long time now, but that he hadn’t dared to accept before. He grabbed her by her waist taking her down off of her seat. She used the momentum to straddle him and kiss his lips passionately, as his hands wandered along her back sending electricity everywhere. When he parted, he cupped her face, an earnest look in his chocolate eyes.

“I love you, Lexie. I’m completely crazy about you”

God, she loved him so much that his words touched her profoundly. She cleared her throat and fixed her dark eyes on him. “I love you too, Drake. With everything in me.”

He crashed her mouth with hers again in the middle of the cheers and ovations of the Liverpool supporters.

“We’re definitely not going  back to Cordonia tonight.”

.

.

Alexis snuck out of the palace and called an Uber that took her to the local Irish pub in less than fifteen minutes.

The bar was a cozy place with large wooden panels, solid counters and Irish music.

She was about to sit on one of the stools when she felt someone’s eyes behind her, staring at her. She turned her head and there he was, Drake Walker sitting in a booth with a tumbler of whiskey in his hand. He raised his glass towards her, trying to ignore the fact that his heart had skipped a beat when he had seen her.

After ordering a pint, she sat next to him with her usual perky attitude. “What are you doing out of you cabin in the woods, Walker?”

He squinted at her “The real question is what are you doing here, O’Brien? Out of the palace without a guard.”

She shrugged. “I wanted to watch the match, and I’m staying. You can take me back to the palace as soon as Barcelona kicks Liverpool’s ass”

God, she was exasperating. “Of course, you would be a Barcelona’s fanatic.”

“You mean the best club in the world?” She took off her leather jacket, she was wearing the famous blue and scarlet Barcelona’s shirt.

He growled. “You can’t sit with me wearing that.”

She gave him a flirtatious look. “Would you prefer if I took it off?”

Sometimes, he swore she was actively trying to torture him. He took her chin with his fingers fixing his piercing eyes on hers.

“You don’t want to play that game with me, O’Brien.” He said in a hoarse voice.

She swallowed hard, her heart beating furiously in her chest. When he finally tore his eyes away from her, she took a long sip of beer.

After a few silent minutes, she spoke. “I can’t believe you’re actually rooting for Liverpool. They haven’t won a Champions league in thirteen years.”

He growled. “I’m so sure we’re beating Barcelona tonight, that I bought tickets for the second leg.”

She sat on the booth cross-legged hugging a cushion. “You seem awfully confident that your team, a team that hasn’t win in ages, is going to beat the best team there is.” She gave him a confident smile. “Want to bet?”

“The best team…?” He shook his head. “What do you want to bet?”

“If Barcelona wins tonight, you give me your semi-final tickets.”

He raised his hands shocked. “Are you crazy, do you know how much I paid for those tickets?”

She reached for his arm and squeezed it with a fake empathic expression on her face. “Don’t worry, Drake if I were rooting for such losers, I wouldn’t want to bet the tickets either.”  

He considered her proposal for a minute, well aware that she was provoking him on purpose, but he just couldn’t back out when she was challenging him. “I’m in, but if you lose you have to get me tickets for next year’s matches. All the matches.” He saw her stunned expression, so he added irritated. “You’ll be queen next year O’Brien, it’d be easy for you to get them.”

She didn’t know why but it really bothered her that he would assume she was going to accept Liam’s proposal. She reached for his hand anyway. “Deal, Walker.”

For the next two hours they sat next to each other, drinking and bickering playfully. In the halftime he challenged her to a game of darts, she wasn’t bad at all, and she certainly looked extremely cute when she concentrated but he beat her easily, reaching 501 points in ten minutes.

However, at the end of the second half of the match, he was seriously pissed, not only he had lost his precious semi-final tickets, but he also had to put up with her cocky attitude while she celebrated Barcelona’s victory.

After a while of singing and cheering with a group of Spaniards, she came back to the table, ecstatic, and extended her hand towards him pointing at her palm. “The tickets, Walker.”

He groaned “Do you think I carry them with me all the time, O’Brien? I’ll give them to you at the palace.”

She laughed truly enjoying her victory. “So grumpy! I didn’t know you were such a sore loser, Drake. I’ll go get another pint. What are you drinking?”

He rolled his eyes. “Dalmore, fifteen years. Just tell them to put it on my tab. I come here often.”

She mimicked a fake surprise. “That’s so shocking!”

He laughed in spite of himself. She added playfully. “And Dalmore, eh? Being a veterinarian definitely pays.”

He smirked shrugging “I don’t need much, O’Brien, but I definitely need good whiskey. How do you know Dalmore?”

“My grandpa loved whiskey. Especially that one.” Her eyes watered thinking about her grandfather but she shook her head to chase the tears.

Drake saw her eyes and his heart tightened; he raised his hand to stroke her cheek, but squeezed her shoulder instead, pouring his eyes into hers to make her feel comforted without words.

It worked because she gave him a small smile, he had rolled his sleeves, so she rubbed his forearm with her fingers softly, almost tenderly, making him crazy. Why did she have to make it so fucking difficult being close to her? He stood up.

“We better leave, Obrien. It’s late and tomorrow we have to travel to Applewood.”

She didn’t want the night to end. For a minute she allowed herself to think about the life she would have had with Drake if they were a couple, if she had met him alone. If she hadn’t been so stupid to be blindsided by Liam’s charm, but when he abruptly stood up, she understood. He didn’t feel the same about her. She had to forget her stupid crush and move on.

They drove back in silence, both of them embarrassed, both of them hurt and filled with unspoken feelings.

The next day, Alexis felt much better. She had drunk too much the previous night and the alcohol had put crazy ideas in her head. It was clear that Drake only saw her as an annoying friend, so she would do the same.

Liam was different, even if the little spark that had initiated at the Statue of Liberty hadn’t become the fire she was hoping for, he was there for her. He had been clear about his feelings for her. Maybe love wasn’t the crazy passion she thought. Maybe love was calm, peaceful and reliable.

Or maybe she just needed to think for a few days, put some distance between her and that stupid competition. She thought about the football tickets she had won. She was definitely going to that semi-final, Drake, Liam and royal court be damned.

She knew Liam would be having breakfast in the main hall, so she went looking for him. She entered the hall and stopped in her tracks. Liam was having breakfast, but he wasn’t alone.

She cleared her throat. “Hi guys!”

Liam’s face lit up seeing her. “Lady Alexis. Good morning.”

Drake gestured a quick hello with his hand and turned back to reading his paper.

Mr. Polite as usual. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you, Li. I want to leave the court for a few days. I’m going to England for the semi-finals of the Champions league”

Liam stopped eating and looked at her puzzled. “That’s in two weeks from now, Alexis. The coronation is in less than three weeks. I would’ve expected that you wanted to be here.”

“Yes! Of course, Li. It’s only for a couple days. England is four hours away. I just want to watch the match. It’s… important for me”

Liam was uncomfortable, he didn’t want her to leave. Even if he couldn’t tell her yet, he had decided he was going to choose her as his queen. And her place was there with him not at some dumb football competition. “Where did you even get the tickets?”

Drake took his head out of the paper. “we made a bet and she won them from me.”

Liam grinned “I told you Liverpool was going to lose, Drake. You have to pick a winner’s team.” He turned to Alexis, speaking to her in a soft voice. “As a suitor and especially as the woman I care about, I-.”

Drake stood up so fast, he almost spilled his coffee. “I don’t think I should be part of this conversation.”

Liam raised his hand. “Actually, Drake, yes. Stay. I was going to say that I care very deeply about you, Alexis. I can’t let you go alone because you’re a member of the royal court, you’ll need protection. Unfortunately, I can’t spare any guards right now, but if Drake accepts, he can go with you. He has trained with Bastien plenty of times and can assure your protection.”

Drake couldn’t allow that. Last night, he had barely slept thinking about her. Two days abroad and he’d go crazy. “I can’t. I have a lot of things planned for that week, Li. I’m sorry.”

Liam squinted at him, puzzled. “You were going to go to the semi-finals anyway, that’s why you bought the tickets.”

Fuck! “Yes, but as Alexis won them, I made new appointments.” He was a terrible liar.

Alexis saw through it. “I don’t need a glorified, grumpy baby-sitter, Liam. Thank you very much.”

“I’m sorry, Alexis, but you’re under the crown’s protection until the end of the Social season. I can’t let you go without a guard; it would be terribly irresponsible from me.” He had made up his mind, and she had to start to get used to the fact that a future queen had responsibilities and responded to him.

Alexis was fuming, she was seriously considering quitting her role as a suitor when Drake spoke seeing how much she wanted to go. “It’s fine, I’ll go with her.” He smirked at her “In exchange of the other ticket.”

Liam started to regret his offer. “I really think it’s better if you stay here, lady Alexis.”

She shook her head. She was going to go, no matter what and as she didn’t need the second ticket anyway, she accepted, strangely happy. “The second ticket is yours, Drake! I have to go get ready to bake an apple pie  for the competition.” Before leaving the room, she turned to grin at Drake. “And thank you.” He felt his heart warming up with her smile.

After breakfast, Drake went to the stables. He needed a good day of intense work to forget the stupidest deal he had ever accepted.

It was already difficult to be around her and pretend to be only her friend when they were surrounded by the other suitors and the madness of the social season. Now, he was going to have her all for himself for two days. He shook his head at his own stupidity. She wasn’t there for him and she never would be. She was there vying for Liam’s hand. Liam, his best friend the king. The same man offering her a whole kingdom.

The truth was that Drake had never been jealous of Liam before. He had a good life, a life he enjoyed. He was passionate about his job and excelled at it. He was free to go fishing, hiking or drink a whiskey in a pub whenever he wanted.  It was a life that he had been able to choose for himself unlike Liam who would have to lead the imposed life of a king. So, no, he had never been jealous of his best friend before Alexis O’Brien had arrived in the court. And now, every time Liam so much as looked at her, he wanted to punch him in the face. He definitely shouldn’t have accepted to take her to Liverpool.

Shaking his head, he put on his white coat and his rubber boots and went to check up on Mirabelle.

The next few days he tried to avoid her as much as he could, he had convinced himself that he only needed a little distance, a little space and whatever he was feeling, would naturally go away and they would be able to go together to Liverpool as friends.

A few nights before leaving, he saw her coming out of the palace and walk towards the maze only dressed in a big sweater and some sort of pajama shorts. He debated with himself, but in an impulse, he decided to go after her, just to make sure she was fine.

When he approached the center of the maze, he saw her, and his heart tugged. She was sitting on a bench with her knees up, her head buried in them, clearly crying. He sat next to her, and silently rubbed her back, soothing her. Slowly her sobs stopped, he leaned towards her and cupped her face turning her face to him.

“Do you want to talk about it, Lexie?”

Her heart jumped in her chest. He had never called her anything else besides O’Brien before.  She knew she could open up to him. “My grandfather, Noah,  died exactly one year ago of a heart attack. I really miss him.”

“I’m sorry, O’Brien” his heart broke seeing her so sad “Come here.” He opened his arms and she snuggled against him.

“He and granny practically raised me. He arrived in the States when he was twenty-two years old, but he never lost his accent” She smiled. “He used to call me his little ‘stor’. It means treasure in Irish... He’s …was the bravest man, I’ve ever met.”

He smiled down at her and brushed her cheek with his thumb to wipe a falling tear. “And most importantly he loved Dalmore whiskey.”

She laughed through her tears.  “Yes, almost as much as he loved granny. His dream was to come back to Dublin with me and show me Trinity College where he went to school. He said that I would love the library there.” She brushed another tear. “I’m sorry, I’m such a mess.”

“Shh, I got you, it’s okay. It’s okay, O’Brien” He hugged her tighter “You never have to apologize to me for how you feel.” He had never held her so closely. Her cherry scent was intoxicating, “I always be here for you. I promise.”

She looked at him hurt. “Like you had been these past weeks?”

He shook his head. “I’m just giving you and Liam some space, O’Brien. We’re only friends and he deserves you”

She stood up trembling with fury. “I’m not a fucking prize either of you gets because you deserve it. Don’t you want to be with me?” He didn’t answer, so she insisted. “I think you feel something for me, Drake.” She waited for an answer that never came, he couldn’t tell her anything without betraying his best friend, plus, she was sad and confused and he wasn’t going to take advantage of it.  “Got it. See you at the plane. Good night.” She stormed out leaving Drake more confused than ever.

Three days later, they were ready to leave for Liverpool, Liam had insisted in lending them his private plane so they could come back directly after the match. He wanted her back fast. Drake had required to leave for Liverpool one day earlier because he had business to attend at Kentwood stables, one of Liam’s horse dealers in England.

Alexis installed herself in one of the leather seats when she saw Drake talk to the pilot.

“What was that about, Drake?”

He shrugged “I have no idea what you’re talking about, O’Brien.” He took out a deck of cards from his bag. “Poker?” He wiggled his eyebrows adorably.

She grinned mischievously. “If you don’t mind losing.”

He observed her expression and smirked, she seemed relaxed and happy as he hadn’t seen in her for a long time.

They played the whole flight to Liverpool, teasing each other, Drake was great at poker, but Alexis used to play all the time in college, so they won two games each.

He smiled cockily. “Don’t worry, O’Brien. I’ll beat you later, I was just warming up”

She rolled her eyes playfully “Yeah, suuure.”

When they got off the plane, she saw Drake talking to the pilot again. She waited with her bag for a car to pick them up from the private tarmac, but Drake shook his head.

“Come on, O’Brien. We need to catch a bus to go to the city center.”

She was happy to do something normal for once, but it was unusual. “No car to pick us up?”

He beamed, he didn’t do it often but when he did he looked so handsome it actually made her knees weak. “Not today, come on”

She followed him through the terminal, not paying much attention. When they exited the building, she turned her head and saw a big sign on the top the airport:

“Welcome to Dublin”

She stopped in her tracks, incapable to move for a second. Drake stood next to her waiting for her reaction.

When she finally spoke, she had a small lump in her throat. “How did you do? I- d” Without thinking about it, she threw her arms around his neck pulling him for a hug. He pulled her against him too, allowing himself to enjoy a few seconds of closeness with her, inhaling her shampoo, feeling her against him. When she pulled away her eyes were brighter than usual “Thank you Drake.”

His raised his hands. “Hey, I have entirely selfish motives. A friend told me about this distillery where they supposedly have great whiskey.”

They went to the B&B where Drake had booked two rooms, a cozy, small place called The Blackrock. It was perfect, the lobby was full of books with a lit fireplace and the lady at the reception was warm and kind.

Before leaving, Alexis decided to change her clothes, she had woken up too early and had lazily thrown a pair of jeans and Converses on.

It was a sunny day in May, but they were in Dublin and it was relatively cold. She decided to wear a red, short sweater dress with a V neck, a pair of tights and her Doc Martens. She put on some black eyeliner, a touch of gloss, and sprayed her Lost Cherry perfume, on her wrists and neck. She felt giddy and nervous to spend the day with him. After a last look in the mirror she took her leather jacket and went downstairs.

She waited at the lobby sitting next to the fireplace, Drake had told her that he needed to make some calls to the Veterinary clinic at the Palace. It made her smile how much he loved his job. How much he cared about it.

Drake saw her as soon as he came down the stairs but waited for her to see him, before announcing himself. At the risk of sounding like a stalker, he wanted to watch her for a few seconds, he spent so much time trying to hide whatever it was she stirred up in him that he never let himself just admire her. She was incredibly beautiful, but it was the energy she irradiated that made his heart stop every time he looked at her. He shook his head; he was quickly approaching a very dangerous territory.

He cleared his throat “I see you’re warming up by the fire.”

She grinned. A true smile, just for him. “I was waiting for you, but I’m ready to go. Do you have anything planned?”

He gave her a conspiratorial smile. “I have some things in mind. Do you trust me?”

She couldn’t help the earnest look in her eyes, when she answered. “Totally.”

They decided to walk, it was a long stroll, but they wanted to make the most of their time there. She pulled her camera out of her huge handbag and took pictures of everything she could. She loved the vibe of the city open and colorful. Everyone seemed relaxed and stress free. Even Drake. She succeeded to take two shots of him when he wasn’t looking.

He knew he only had two days with her. He was trying really hard to keep his thoughts at bay but just the way she looked at everything and the joy she transpired while they explored the city was enough to make him forget his good resolutions.

He remembered the conversation he had had with Liam the day before. They had been drinking at his office when Liam had suddenly told him that he regretted having authorized the trip.

“What do you mean?

“I thought you were my friend, and maybe you still are, but I saw you in the maze last night, Drake. You were holding her.” Seeing that his friend was about to talk, he raised his hand “Just remember who she belongs to.”

Drake felt a rush of anger, his fists immediately balling. “She doesn’t belong to anyone, Liam. She can do whatever she wants. Last night she was sad, that’s all.”

“It may be, but just in case, remember that she’s here for me. She deserves the world, she deserves to be a queen, Drake. My queen.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. Liam was right, she deserved the world and more, so he’d have to settle with being his friend.  

They had been walking more than an hour, when they saw an imposing grey building. She screamed with excitement, recognizing it immediately. Her grandfather had showed her hundreds of pictures of it while he talked about his younger years in Dublin.

He was touched to see her eyes watering at its sight but didn’t dare to do anything else but stroke her cheek with the back of his hand.

“Aww, O’Brien. Come on, let’s see that library”

They were both amazed as soon as they entered the famous Long Room. It was majestic. The sight was imposing, high wooden ceilings and walls, millions of ancient books covering the shelves, and infinite rows of marble busts honoring the greatest writers and philosophers of history.

They looked together for Jonathan Swift, Noah’s favorite writer, while Alexis told him anecdotes of her childhood, and how he used to read her ‘Gulliver’s travels’ before bed. She seemed nostalgic but happy to remember him.

“He was a great man, O’Brien. And even if I didn’t know him, I’m sure he would be very proud of you.”

She sighed. “I don’t know… I think he definitely would’ve disapproved of the idea of me competing for a prince’s hand.”

Drake looked at her intently trying to figure out how she felt about it, he knew she was in love with Liam, but at the same time he couldn’t deny that there was something else going on between the two of them, something undefined and powerful.

After seeing the Book of Kells, they spent the rest of the day exploring the city. They took pictures next to Molly Malone, ordered a Fish and chips at Presto’s, and got lost in the Jaime’s Joyce museum.

Alexis bought a colorful painting portraying the famous Dublin doors, and Drake got his wish of visiting the Roe & Coe Distillery where he felt like a little boy in a candy store. It was a perfect day. Both of them yearned for it to last, but neither of them took a step towards the other.

They want out of the distillery slightly drunk, laughing like crazy. “Last stop ‘The workman’s bar’, O’Brien. Maxwell recommended it.” He grinned, she had never seen him so happy, so relaxed. What she’do to kiss those dimples. “I’m dying to show you the Temple Bar area. Come on!” He added when he saw she was lost in her thoughts.

The pub was packed, they had trouble finding a table but after a few minutes they found one close to the stage.

He asked for their drinks, two double whiskeys. She gulped hers.

“Easy O’Brien, this is not a competition” He beamed, again, she was almost getting used to it.

She looked at him with fire in her eyes. “I can do whatever I want tonight. And I want to drink. Oh, I know! Let’s play a drinking game!” She beamed.

“You want to play a drinking game, against me O’Brien?” He arched his brows “Are you sure?”

She gave him a devilishly smile, just what he needed to go insane. “I’m not playing, Walker, I’m winning”

He chuckled “You’re such a cocky ass. Let’s see that” His phone rang, it was the clinic. “Just a sec, O’Brien. I’ll take this outside.”

When he came back, he saw her talking with one of the guys from the table next to hers. He cut the distance between them as fast as he could. When the guy saw Drake sit next to her clearly angry, he babbled a quick good night and left as fast as he could.

She witnessed his behavior extremely annoyed. He had been clear, he only wanted to be her friend. So why did he behave like that?

“What the fuck, Drake? Why are you so angry?” The words came out of her mouth before she could stop them. “Are you jealous?”

He was tired too, tired of wanting her so badly, tired of months watching her from the distance, tired of pretending he felt nothing for her, when he couldn’t think about anything else. He fixed his eyes on her. “Like crazy.”

She leaned to kiss him, but Liam was in there, present between the two of them. He cupped her face. “We can’t O’Brien. You love him, I know that.”

She shook her head. How was it possible that someone that knew her so perfectly well, that could almost see through her soul was so incapable of reading her true feelings. “Forget it, Drake. It’s fine.”

He heard the hurt in her voice and started to wonder if maybe, only maybe, she felt…something for him.

They sat in silence until someone stood up on the stage and began to sing ‘Hey, Jude’ with a voice way off key.

“Fucking Maxwell, he recommeneded a karaoke bar!” He groaned but after a few more seconds of the singer torturing The Beatles they burst into laughs easing the tension. They played several games and talked about their childhoods and years of college. After several singers, the host of the evening called Alexis’s name.

She chuckled at his puzzled expression. “I wrote my name in the list when I went to the bathroom.” She stood up and went to the stage.

For the hundredth time that day, his mouth went dry just looking at her. She was so incredibly sexy that he couldn’t think straight. The red of her dress illuminated her face, making her black eyes darker, her full lips irresistible. The dress wasn’t tight but it was short so he could admire her long legs and thanks to the V neck, part of her cleavage. He was sure no one at that pub had seen anyone more beautiful or sexy than her. He smirked when the song started. She had chosen Marvin Gaye by Charlie Puth.

She began to slowly sway her hips with the rhythm of the song and started singing. He shook his head; Not only was she softly dancing, which was enough to push him over the edge, but he had heard her sing before and knew he was doomed. She had a low voice, sultry, soft. Like a moan.

We got this king size to ourselves

Don't have to share with no one else Don't keep your secrets to yourself It's karma sutra show and tell

She was slowly moving her hips and looking at him fixedly as she sang. He stared back, his black eyes looking at her so intently she felt like she was going to combust. He leaned against his seat, with the tumbler in his hand, licking his lips, savoring the moment as much as she was, letting his eyes tell her all the things he wanted to do to her.

You got to give it up to me

I'm screaming mercy, mercy please Just like they say it in the song Until the dawn, let's Marvin Gaye and get it on

She had chosen that song on purpose. Every time he heard her sing for mercy, he felt a twitch in his pants. Every time she moved her hips asking him to get lost with her until dawn, he was tempted to go on stage, take her and fuck her right there in the bathroom.

The applause took him out of his trance. He saw her approaching the table where they were seated. Fuck, he didn’t give a damn anymore, he wanted her, painfully, agonizingly. He left the money for the drinks on the table and intercepted her on her way to the table. He gripped her hand and led her outside. He had called an Uber but they had to wait for it. Except that Drake couldn’t wait another moment, he pressed her against the first wall he found and leaned towards her; whispering in her ear. “What are you doing, O’Brien? I told you not to play those games with me.”

She smiled biting her lip, and then shrugged “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He growled burying his nose in her neck, softly smelling her cherry scent; making her shiver “Fuck! You have no idea what you do to me, do you?”

Her heart couldn’t have beat faster. She felt like it was going to go out of her chest.

He fixed his eyes on her “If you want to scream for mercy, Lexie” He brushed her neck with his fingers, as his other hand stroked the small of her back and he kissed her earlobe. “I’ll make you scream all night.”

She was physically incapable to form words, so she nodded. A nod. All it took was soft movement of her head and hell broke loose. He placed his hand on her back and pulled her against him crashing his mouth with hers, caressing her face. He nipped her lips and let his hands wander through her body, desperate, impatient.

They arrived at her room fifteen minutes later, after a painfully long Uber ride.

She tried to open the door, but Drake was behind her, his arm around her waist, his lips on the nape of his neck. “Drake, god!”

Finally, she opened the door, and they almost stumbled inside. He was still behind her, still ravaging her neck. He took her by her waist and in easy movement turned her face to him kissing her lips again. They were better than he had imagined, with a sweet taste, soft and tender at his contact. He scooped her in his arms and took her to the bed. He stopped for a second to look at her. His goddess, gorgeous, with swollen lips and messy hair.

He smiled down on her “Are you sure you want this, O’Brien?” She nodded, lost in the sandalwood.

“I didn’t hear anything, Lexie”

“Yes, I’m sure” she panted.

He locked eyes with her as he put a strand of hair behind her ear “You better be, because if I make you mine tonight, I’ll never let you go again.” She nodded again, grabbing the back of his head to crash their lips again.

They took each other's clothes in desperate movements. “Fuck, Alexis you’re so damn gorgeous.”

He grabbed her from her waist and sat on the edge of the bed with her on his lap.  She straddled him as his passionate kisses made her crazy. She threw her head back giving him full access to her breasts that he cupped kissing the spot where her jaw and neck connected, his thumbs slowly teasing her hard nipples. She moaned loudly.

“Drake, please”

Drake smiled against her neck “Are you asking for mercy, Lexie?” His question was joined by the movement of his right hand wandering through her body producing jolts of electricity everywhere he touched her, until he finally reached her core. He stroked her skin enjoying how soft she was, before circling the little nub inside of her with his thumb.

Drake growled “Fuck, Lexie, you’re so wet for me” He kept teasing her, touching everything bit of skin around her clit.

“God, Drake, you’re driving me crazy, please…” Drake’s finger suddenly entering her, not letting her finish.

“Is this what you want, Lexie?” He whispered to her ear. She nodded lazily too excited to answer. “Come for me” He slid another finger inside making her writhe against him, her breaths becoming shorter, and shorter as she clung to Drake’s back.

“Drake, I…I god Drake fuck!” She screamed when a powerful wave of heat ran across her body leaving her wasted.

Drake steadied her with his arms, stroking her back. He kissed the top of her head giving her time to recover.

“Fuck me, Drake”

He buried his mouth in her hair. “I told you I was going to make you scream for mercy.” He positioned himself with the tip of his dick rubbing her center “Look at me, O’Brien. I want to see your pretty face as I enter you”

She gasped and locked her eyes with him, her hands around his neck, his gaze piercing hers, as he entered her slowly, giving her time to adjust to him.

He growled again biting her shoulder. “Damn, Lexie you feel incredible baby, so fucking tight”

Drake didn’t know at what moment, but the energy of the room had shifted. He felt much more than a powerful lust for her. He wanted to have her, all of her, forever. They rocked their hips at the same pace, slowly at first but sooner increasing speed staring at each other as their movements became more passionate. He kissed her lips deeply, lost in her. They both felt a connection like neither of them had experienced before. He hit her spot several times making her moan his name over and over again. Without taking his eyes off of her, he stroked her clit as they both reached a point of no return.

“Drake!” She screamed his name yet again, as her muscles compressed around him. Feeling her come screaming his name pushed him over the edge, and he filled her completely.

They fell down on the bed, spent. He pulled her close to him and kissed her front.

“Are you staying?” His heart tugged at the vulnerability of her soft voice.

“If you want me to stay, O’Brien. I’ll never leaving again.” She smiled against his chest as they both drifted to sleep, only to woke up a few hours later and made love again.

The morning light woke her up. He was hugging her tightly against him, with his chin on her shoulder, his breath in her ear. She had never felt safer or happier before, until a horrible thought crept into her head. What if he didn’t want her anymore? What if he decided again that she belonged with Liam?

She felt him move behind her. Maybe she should be casual about it, but she had no idea of how she would be able to do that. There was nothing casual about the way they had made love the night before. The expression was cheesy but it fit perfectly. The connection between them was deep and explosive.

His raspy voice pulled her out of her thoughts. “Hi.”

She turned to face him and her heart skipped a beat when she saw his smile and the soft expression on his eyes. “Hi.”

Lucky. That was how Drake had felt that morning when he had opened his eyes. Like the luckiest bastard in the world. She was cuddled against him, bare and exposed to him, he could hear her soft breaths, smell her delicate scent. After all the reservations he had had, and the torment of thinking she loved Liam, he was elated to be with her that morning. He didn’t doubt anymore, not after the way she had given herself to him the previous night. He felt she was awake and whispered a soft hi in her ear. When she turned to him, he couldn’t control himself much longer. He had to make her his again.

After spending the morning making love, they took a shower together and got ready for Liverpool. Neither of them dared to talk about the future, unwilling to break their little bubble with practical matters or with Liam’s name.

They took the Ferry at Holyhead and arrived at Liverpool at 6:20, just in time to grab a little something to eat and go to Anfield Stadium.

The atmosphere was intense. Liverpool’s and Barca’s flags flooded the streets, mixed with chants in English and Spanish everywhere. It was electric.

Once at their gate, they had to wait in line to enter because security was checking people’s bags. Drake turned to watch Alexis’s face, she was almost jumping with exhilaration and a warm feeling spread all over his chest. He smiled to himself, never in his wildest dreams he could’ve anticipated coming there with her. He moved behind her and looped his arms around her waist protectively, there were too many people, too much excitement, she could easily get hurt.

They located their seats and Drake left to get a couple of drinks. He shook his head amused when he came back, she had taken her jumper off revealing her Barca’s shirt, a blue spot in a sea of red.

“Do you have a death wish, O’Brien?” He chuckled.

“It’s not my fault I have good taste” She shrugged.

“Come here” He cupped her face and kissed her softly, seriously considering the idea of skipping the match and taking her to a hotel room in Liverpool. “You have no idea how much I want you all time, Lexie.”

She smiled and kissed him too, overwhelmed by all the things she was feeling.

“Have you ever come to a Liverpool’s match before?”

She shook her head no. “It’s the first time.”

“Prepare yourself, everybody talks about the emotions of Liverpool's supporters, but it’s really something else when you see it in person.”

She opened her big eyes wide. “Are you telling me that the dark and brooding Drake Walker is capable of enjoying displays of emotion?”

He chuckled. “You’re a pain in the ass, O’Brien. You know that, don’t you?” He pushed aside the hair from her face and kissed her.  

He was right; Liverpool supporter’s emotions were all over the place. They sang their hymn wholeheartedly, but it was when the first notes of ‘You’ll never walk alone’  played on the speakers that goosebumps appeared all over her arms. Every single person around her was singing passionately, pouring all their hearts on the song. One single voice for more than forty thousand supporters cheering for the players entering the field.

“Ready to lose, Walker?”

“Lose? Prepare for the greatest come back in the history of football, O’Brien”

She laughed cockily. “Love your optimist side, Drake. We’re three points ahead”

The referee blew the whistle announcing the beginning of the game.

Drake and Alexis were equally excited yelling instructions at their respective teams in a mix of English and Spanish.

At the seventh minute, Drake yelled emphatically as Origi scored the first goal. "Yes! Let's go!”

Alexis was fuming screaming in Spanish to the goalkeeper. “¡Pinche Stergen! ¡Muévete carajo!”.

He couldn’t believe how adorable she looked when she was that angry. He teased her in the hope to infuriate her even more. “That’s one, O’Brien, we have at least three more to go.” He said matter-of-factly, clearly enjoying the fire in her eyes.

The rest of the first half-time passed uneventfully, with no more goals of either team.

“You’re not so cocky now, are you, Walker?”

He groaned. “We still have a second time to go, O’Brien, don’t count your chickens just yet”

She smiled cockily, only a miracle could save Liverpool at that point. However, sixteen minutes after the whistle for the second time, the miracle happened when Wijnaldum scored two goals in a two-minute interval.

Twenty-three minutes later Origi nailed the final nail in the coffin scoring an historical goal, eliminating Barcelona from the competition.

Alexis screamed furiously at Stergen, Piqué and the rest of the team. Drake stopped his celebration for a minute to watch her as she jumped on her seat screaming. Her energy was exciting, contagious. There in the middle of a football match after the most incredible night of his life, he realized something he knew for a long time now, but that he hadn’t dared to accept before. He grabbed her by her waist taking her down off of her seat. She used the momentum to straddle him and kiss his lips passionately, as his hands wandered along her back sending electricity everywhere. When he parted, he cupped her face, an earnest look in his chocolate eyes.

“I love you, Lexie. I’m completely crazy about you”

God, she loved him so much that his words touched her profoundly. She cleared her throat and fixed her dark eyes on him. “I love you too, Drake. With everything in me.”

He crashed her mouth with hers again in the middle of the cheers and ovations of the Liverpool supporters.

“We’re definitely not going back to Cordonia tonight.

So, @pedudley​ made me this beautiful mood board of them traveling, and I immediately thought about this fic. So for me these are the photos they took to each other. 

 . 

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#mskaneko #happy birthday @mskaneko! #drake x mc #drake walker #addictedtodrakefanficwrites

[youwerenevermeanttofeelalone]

Stuck With The Potters | James Sirius Potter

Pairing: James Sirius x Plus Size Reader

Word Count: 1k.

Request: Hello, how are you? I'm so happy that you're writing for plus size readers, because really are little here in tumblr. So, can I ask a James Sirius Potter x reader? The plot can be like James presenting the reader to the family or something like that.. Thank you, have a good night :)

Warnings: Light mentions of fatphobia, a little fluff, family shenanigans (I think? I don't have a big nor functional family so I'm not sure.)

A/N: This is short, but I think it’s not that bad? Let me know!

Gift credit: @obriens

You fiddled with the hem of your blouse for the fifth time in the last ten minutes. Your best friend rolled her eyes from beside you. “You look fine,” they said, not for the first time throughout the train ride.

Your nerves couldn’t be tamed, no matter how many times you repeated to yourself everything would go smoothly, no matter how many times James said everything would be fine.

It had been his idea, for you to meet his parents that summer, and although you were excited you were scared of them not liking you. Your relationship with Lily Luna was good, and even Albus seemed to like you which surprised both James and you— you couldn’t help but be nervous still.

As the train slowed down, you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, gnawing on it to keep yourself from sighing heavily. Your best friend and you took separate ways, not without you promising to write to them as soon as possible.

James was waiting for you in the station, happy to see you had taken his offer to spend a few days with his family once he spotted your belongings. He kissed you as soon as you were at an arm’s reach, smiling on top of your lips as you parted.

The walk to his house wasn’t long, you held hands the entire stroll as you told him about your past couple of days. He could tell you were nervous which he found adorable and pointless because he was sure his parents would adore you as he did.

He had spoken so much about you that Ginny and Harry had asked him to just take you home already. He thought at first they wanted to discourage him from dating because it has happened to some of his friends, but as he explained that people usually we're judgemental of your body type in general and both shared confused looks he realized their intentions were simply to meet his girlfriend. And honestly? He wanted you to meet them just as badly. That morning he had reminded them of everything you liked and disliked, how you liked your tea and that dish you dispised— he didn't need to tell them to be nice, they were already open and accepting and he had honestly been an idiot for thinking they would make a comment regarding your weight, of course they didn't care about that!

He stopped in front of a door, turning to face you completely. “Are you ready, love?”

You exhaled, nodding whilst looking at him. He gave your hand a reassuring squeeze before dropping it in order to turn the knob. As soon as the door opened, a yell filled your ears.

“You’re sleeping with me!” Lily Luna’s voice was the one to greet you, her bright smile easing your nerves a tad bit.

Said nerves skyrocketed once you were invited to step inside, the redhead woman you’ve heard so much about was smiling at you just as bright as her daughter.

Ginny pulled you into a hug, “we’ve heard so much about you.”

“Likewise, Mrs. Potter,” you politely said as you hugged back.

Shaking hands with Harry was easier than you thought, his green eyes stared at you welcomingly as he asked how you train ride had gone. While you told him about it, Albus came downstairs to greet you, he even offered to help James with your belongings. You could see the surprise in Ginny and Harry’s faces but they didn’t make a single comment.

“Tea?” Ginny offered, smiling when you accepted.

Harry laughed while seeing you place your hands on your lap, sitting on the couch in front of the one you were occupying. “Nervous, (y/n)?”

You felt heat overcome your face, “a little bit, sir.”

“There’s nothing to be nervous about,” he assured you. “We’re happy James found someone to put up with him.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. In all honesty, James wasn’t so bad most of the time— you liked his pranks, how funny he was, how brave and caring.

The progression of the evening proved James to have been right, you didn’t have anything to worry about. Ginny and Harry were very accepting, not once making a comment about your weight or anything even close to that, they were interested in you, your personality, your interests. Talking to them turned as comfortable as doing it with Lily and Albus, you could see why the three Potter-Weasley siblings were so different and at the same time so nice and righteous.

By the end of the day, you were helping in the kitchen while Albus complained about having to do it too and laughing at how much Ginny teased Harry about James having a stable relationship at a younger age than he did.

It felt good, feeling accepted by the family of the guy you were in love with, being included in their jokes and conversations. It felt even natural, sitting down between Lily and James at the table, hearing Al and James have a passionate discussion about Quidditch while Ginny corrected them and Harry looked at them proudly, eating dinner with the people your boyfriend loved so much.

He smiled the brightest he had the entire day, all for you. “I told you sooooo,” he sing-sang just to tease you.

You two were alone for a moment, sat down on the patio steps. The moment would’ve been perfect if he hadn’t opened his mouth, but what was new with James? You rolled your eyes, “you’re mean.”

“I’m not,” he lightly elbowed you on the side. Suddenly James turned serious, “I’m happy you’re here, you know? And that my family loves you as much as I do.”

It was your turn to smile, “I’m happy to be here. And that your family doesn’t hate me.”

He threw his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “You’re stuck with The Potters now.”

Kissing his cheek, you hummed. You were fine with it, more than fine, actually.

#james sirius x reader #james sirius x plus size reader #plus size reader #plus size reader fanfic #plus size reader imagine

[mollygetssherlockcoffee]

Day 31, Bondage with Loki

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Summary: Day 31, Bondage with Loki

Warnings: Bondage, degradation, impact play, Open ending

Words: 254

A/N: MINORS DNI! Thank you to @sparkledfirecracker for giving me the confidence to post this!

KINKTOBER Masterlist Masterlist Permanent Taglist

The tears are streaming down your face, tickling your temples and wetting your hair. The thick leather binds your arms above you and keeps your legs spread. The riding crop smacks the inside of your thigh, and you cry out, your eyes squeezing shut at the impact on your already irritated flesh.

The crop travels up your thigh, stroking over the puffy lips of pussy. It easily slipped through the thick slick of your arousal. Wet pats were smacked lightly against your clit, and your hips flinched away from the contact. Your knees turn inwards to try and hide yourself.

“Come on, pet,” Loki scoffed. “You wanted this, you asked for this. ‘Tie me up and use me, Loki’, you said. ‘Do what you want with my body, make me yours’. What, have you changed your mind, pet?”

The nickname was said in a snide, degrading manner, and a shiver ran up your spine. You loved it when he spoke down to you, as if you were beneath him. You didn’t know why, but it would send shocks of arousal through you.

“It hurts,” you whined, pulling against the binds.

“And yet I still haven’t heard your safe word,” he chuckled darkly. “If this really hurt, you would say the safe word. But, of course, you’ll take what your given, like the greedy little whore that you are.”

“I’m not a whore,” you protested.

“And yet look at you, laying on my bed with your legs spread,” Loki said. “What would your fiancé say?”

Permanent Tag List: @buckyzwhore @tripletstephaniescp @xoxabs88xox @tenaciousperfectionunknown @draw-back-your-bow @sammypotato67 @sskhair @kittenssss-blog @hallecarey1 @thegirlnextdoorssister @waywardwifey

Kinktober Tag List: @fics4arainyday @doxysarah92 @wakingbeauty @marygut1407 @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @lifeofrileyp @marziwritesfic @nomajdetective @honeybuckybarnes @thicccsimp @baby-banana @stucky-my-ship @harrysthiccthighss @doasyoudesireandlive @lifes-history @mrs-obrien @give-me-a-moose

Marvel Tag List: @stardust-galaxies

#mollygetssherlockcoffee's kinktober 2021 #kinktober 2021 #kinktober #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #loki laufeyson #loki #loki x female reader #loki x reader #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki of asgard #loki smut #day 31

[httphopewrld]

I Don’t Know What to Call This | (f/m/a) sneak peek!!!

Just Friends? Friends with benefits? Dating? Questions swarmed your mind when one of your dear friends, Allie, asked about you and Hoseok’s relationship. The truth was you didn’t know. You and Hoseok were close, knowing each other since elementary school, and considered each other friends. However, as you two grew older, maturing into separate professions—you a well-known fashion designer, and Hoseok a famous musician and dancer—you two had engaged in some intimate activities (sex—lots of it.) After Allie’s simple question, you had to confront your feelings. But were you and Hoseok ready to be more than close friends and fuck buddies?

Pairing: friend/lover/bfhoseok! x female reader

Genre: slow-burn fluff, some angst, and SMUT

Rating: 18+ because there’s swearing and pretty detailed smut

Warnings: swearing and SMUT (one of the most detailed smuts I’ve written, and there’s more than one sex scene.) Smut includes: switch!reader and switch!hoseok, grinding and thrusting, protective sex (USE CONDOMS, I cannot stress that enough), lots of kissing, ass-grabbing, dirty talk, a wee bit of choking on both sides, squirting, male and female oral, fingering and handjobs, vibrator use, cyber-sex, reader uses dildo, slight degradation, and just lots of filth—YOU’RE WELCOME FELLOW FILTHY ANIMALS.

Word Count: more than 10,000 (not finished yet)

A/N: Happy birthday J-Hope! Although the fic won’t be released today, or tomorrow, on his birthday, it will be out next Friday (February 26). Please let me know in the comments if you wanted to be included in the taglist, and what you think!

Taglist: @kirbykook @kleritata @taestannie @jenotation @hemmos-obrien​ @zeharilisharaban @speed-of-wind 

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

You can move those over there,” you gestured to the left corner of the windowed room, where a pile of boxes waited. The move was going to take longer than you expected because the movers arrived a week later than your assistant, Rachel, said. I really need to talk to her about this. You stressed in your mind, rubbing your temples. “Are you okay?” You looked up, vision resuming its focus on your friend, Allie. Allie, your friend for as long as you could remember, offered to help you move to your new building. She would help you manage everything, including the movers, tracking your company’s items, and the layout you gave to her for said things while you managed the company. “I’m just irritated at Rachel,” you noticed her confusion, “my new assistant.” She nodded, remembering, “Right. Why is she still employed?” “Because she’s new, and being an assistant is a tough feat. She’ll get it soon.” You reassured, “Rachel is a fast learner, and this is her first mistake. We’re prepared for the next show, though, because Westley helping me organize it.” “Remind me who Westley is?” Allie asked. You sighed. “West is like my second brain. He helps organize the fashion shows, hire the models, find the venues, and secure the guest list. He has other people help him too, but he’s the brains of that. I create the fashion, and he finds a way to present it.” Allie nodded, “Gotcha.” Your phone rang, and you answered. “Y/N.” “Y/N!” Rachel chimed on the other end. “It’s Rachel. I’m so sorry about the mix-up on dates. It won’t happen again, I—” “I know it won’t, Rachel. You’re new, so I expected to slip up. I’ve gotten it taken care of,” you nudged Allie’s arm, and she smiled. “We’re luckily prepared for the next show in Vancouver, so you don’t have to worry about the mess up. All I need you to do now is make sure that my fabrics are coming in.” “Yes! They’ve arrived at the studio.” Rachel replied. “Fantastic. Thank you. That’ll be all for now. Please check on West if he needs anything.” You requested. “Will do, Y/N. Talk to you soon.” You hung up. The Vancouver show was in five months, giving you and your team enough time to design the clothes for the production and move to the new building. The show’s theme was natural bodies of water and nature, a nod to Canada’s landscape. The clothing catalogue would include various icy blue shades to represent waterfalls and warm emerald tones like flora and fauna. These colours would be encapsulated in elegant gowns and suits, worn by different shapes, genders, and colours. The materials would be made from recycled fabrics from your previous shows and from your fellow artists. You were known for designing elegant attire, so it was best to keep to it. However, it was rare to see different sized, coloured, and gendered models on a runway; because of having to customize clothes to those models. Additionally, making clothes from recycled fabrics would be tough. “Okay,” you began, “I need to talk to my design team and plan out the gowns. Can I leave you here to deal with the movers?” Allie gave you a thumbs up. “Thank you,” you smiled, hugging her, “if you need anything, please call me or Rachel, or both. We’ll be back to help.” Before you left, a thought struck you. You turned around to face Allie. “I should just hire you.” She chuckled, “Why?” You scoffed, “Because you’re here all the time!” You backed back to her. “Listen, you’re the best manager I know. You can be my third brain. You already are, outside of work, so it would make sense.” Allie seemed unsure. “I already have my job at Youth and Hope.” You grasped her hands. “You would be given a great wage, not just because you’re my best friend, but because you’re going to be busy with lots of work. You would be handling the management tasks, like West. You’d be given a good amount of vacation, trips for shows and meetings would be paid for—you could get that loft you always wanted downtown.” You wiggled your eyebrows, and Allie laughed. “Don’t I have to go through an interview process?” You brushed a hand through the air. “I can get someone to interview you and officially hire you. Once that’s done, you’ll start getting paid.” You checked your watch, and a quick rush of panic ran through you. “Shit, I’m going to be late. Consider it, alright! Let me know your availability, and we’ll schedule an interview!” “Okay!” She shouted back as you left. . . The coffee had become bitter. You weren’t sure if it was the roast or the fact that this was your fourth cup of the night. It had been a month since the fabrics arrived. Thanks to Allie, your friend and now employee, your move to the new building was complete; however, your designs weren’t translating as smoothly as you wish. “Fuck,” you cursed, taking your head in your hands and rubbing your temples. The sketches waited in front of you. The measurements and ideas raking at your confidence. Your designs are redundant. You’ve done something similar last time.                                                                       Boring. Plain. You turned back to your mannequins, still bare. The theme was in your mind, and your design team reassured you that your sketches were fine, but it all felt fuzzy. “Y/N,” Rachel peered into the studio from the door, “there’s a gentleman here to see you.” “His name?” You asked, still looking at the mannequins. You heard footsteps retreat into the front lobby, then come back to the door. “Jung Hoseok?” You turned around, trying to contain your excitement. “Please send him in.” Rachel nodded, jogging back to the lobby. You heard a muffled “thank you” before heavy footsteps approaching your studio. Hoseok reached the doorway, beaming his signature smile. He wore acid-washed jeans, a baggy white sweater that matched his chunky light sneakers. His dark hair was slightly wavy and parted in the middle. A tote bag was slung over his shoulder. “Y/N!” He cheered, opening his arms wide. “Hoseok!” You replied, running into his arms and hugging him tightly. You couldn’t remember the last time you saw Hoseok—a year or two? “Fuck, how long has it been?” You asked him. He pulled away, thinking. “About six months?” Totally off. “Seriously, it felt longer than that.” You argued. Hoseok pulled out his phone and scrolled through his calenderer and photos. He made a ‘tsk’ sound. “Ah, see here,” he showed you a few photos of you two with his friends, who were also his bandmates, “six months ago, you joined us on tour for a couple days before coming back here. I have it also marked in my calendar.” He showed you the dates, which were marked with ‘💚Y/N’s visit💚.’ “Can Namjoon or Yoongi confirm this?” You crossed your arms. Hoseok mimicked your body language. “I can call them right now,” he challenged. You two stood in competitive tension. You succumbed. “You win this time, Jung Hoseok.” He playfully chuckled. You realized that Hoseok doesn’t live around here. “Wait, why are you in town. Shouldn’t you and the others be in Korea planning another album or something?” You speculated. “Our company gave us a month for vacation because we spent most of the year touring.” Hoseok sighed. “So, I decided to come to visit.” You hugged him again, happy to see someone who wasn’t your employee amidst this chaos of stress. “How long are you staying?” You asked, muffled against his chest. He paused. “Maybe a month?” You pulled away from him, shocked. “A month? Here? That’s all your vacation time.” “Yeah,” he replied, as if that wasn’t a big deal, “I didn’t want to travel to a bunch of places because the group and I have been doing that for almost a year—and it’s pretty chill in this area.” He sighed. “Besides, I don’t think many people would recognize me. The airport wasn’t busy, and I haven’t been swarmed by fans yet.” “Do you have a place to stay?” You asked. He nodded. “Yup! I’m staying at a fancy hotel. I got the suite at the top floor,” he made a gesture with his hand, indicating how high up his suite was. You playfully elbowed his side. “Wow look at you, Mr. Famous. You can afford a top suite now. Are you sure you don’t want to stay with me, though?” Hoseok dismissed your offer with a wave of his hand. “It’s alright, Y/N. Thank you, though.” He peered over your shoulder, “It looks like you’re busy anyway, so I think I’ll just stick to my suite.” He walked past you, over to the bare mannequins. “Are you preparing for that show in Vancouver that you told me about?” You nodded, relaying your theme and ideas to him. He smiled. “That sounds really cool,” he pointed to the mannequins, “but don’t you need some clothes for the show, then?” You rolled your eyes, chuckling at him for being a smart ass. “Yes, I do. I’m brainstorming some ideas right now, but I’m coming up with nothing. I have the design team coming in tomorrow with drafts, but I’d like to bring my own thing to the table, you know? I’m the main brain of this operation, and it’d be embarrassing if I come in with zilch.” You leaned against one of the tables, facing the mannequins. “The tough part is designing gowns that fit the right people, you know. Sure, you can make a collection of clothes, but they won’t look good if they don’t fit the models.” You shook your head. “Maybe it’s just tougher to design clothes for different bodies, genders, and colours. I should just stick to one type of person and leave it at that.” Hoseok walked up beside you, leaning against the same table and facing the figures. “Why don’t you find the models and then design the clothes?” You looked at him, surprised. “But wouldn’t that take a long time?” He crossed his arms, “Well, how many models would you need?” “We’re thinking around seventy. There’s going to be two changes within the show.” Hoseok nodded, and you could see him brainstorming. “Well, you have four months left, right? You and your team can make some drafts, cast the models, and then finalize the ideas with said models. Which would take about a couple of months? You could do that while planning the show?” He paused, appearing to notice your hesitant expression. “Think about it. You’ve trained your team well enough to work on its own, right? That’s what you did for your last show, which was a success. You came in every day for a couple hours to make sure everything was in order, then focused on other things.” Hoseok grasped your hands. “You’re great at multitasking, so do it. It’s scary, but you can check on people every day to make sure everything’s alright.” You bit your lip, “I-I don’t know, Hoseok. That sounds like a lot of work—” “You did it last time, and it worked out just fine,” he gently squeezed your hands, “and I’m here for a month. I can help out whenever you need me. I’ll simply clean things up and fetch coffee if that’s what you need.” You laughed, “Like my intern?” “Yeah! I don’t know how to design anything or plan a fashion show, but I’ll do what I can.” He smiled. “You’re so much more than you think, Y/N, and if you need reminders, I’ll be here.” You smiled back at him, so grateful to have him here. “My god, you’re fucking sweet,” you scoffed, taking your hands out of his. Hoseok laughed. You pushed yourself off the table and faced him. “How did we even become friends?” You questioned. He actually gave it a thought. “You joined by dance club in elementary school, when no one else would.” He laughed so hard that he teared up. “I think we actually took club photos, and it was only you and I posing.” You laughed with him, remembering those days spent trying to breakdance to hip hop and presenting dance routines to your parents. “Yeah, that was before you joined that Music Academy in grade four, right?” He nodded, and you sighed, surprised you still remembered. Your mind came back to the present. “So, you’re actually okay with helping out?” You checked. “Why would I ask if I didn’t want to?” Hoseok replied. You tapped your index finger against your temple, “true.” “So, how much do you want?” Hoseok looked offended at your question. You chuckled. “Well, you’re going to work for me, so I need to pay you.” “It’s only just a month, though.” “Yeah, but—” “What about we see how much you have me do before you pay me?” He interrupted. “I might just have to fetch coffee, so you can just give me money on the spot.” You thought about it for a minute. Hoseok yawned. “This work talk is making me tired. Do you want to go out for dinner?” He looked around you, “Unless you have more work to do. I can always wait in the lobby for you to finish.” You brushed your hand through the air, “Nah, it’s okay. I’m pretty brain dead anyway. I need to be energized for tomorrow’s draft review.” Hoseok pushed himself off the table and clapped. “Awesome! Where do you think I’m taking you for dinner?” You bit your lip, trying to guess. “Sushi?” “Sushi it is!” He beamed. You grabbed your things and followed him out of the studio.

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