#weekdays are so busy i can barely write

[m-rshy]

to the anon who sent in a request—it's on the way, i promise!!! look forward to it 🤭

[burntheedges]

Awake

Marcus Moreno x f!reader | 6.6k | 18+ | ao3

summary: Marcus is fine. He wakes up, goes to work, goes home, goes to sleep, and then does it all over again, just the same, every day. And he's fine.

And then he meets you.

a/n: this is for @guiltyasdave and @sizzlingcloudmentality's writing through the seasons challenge! you can see my prompt and moodboard here (which I borrowed from for the header). I had the prompt ("to live with the delusion of being found") banging around in my head for days and it just screams Marcus to me. thank you @katareyoudrilling for being a wonderful beta, as always.

tags/warnings: angst, fluff, flirting, meet cute, Missy is a fun teenager, texting, coffee shop, touching, I named Miracle Guy Rob and Missy's mom Melissa, self deprecation (Marcus), shifting POV, kissing, grinding, reader has no description other than being a woman and having a job, no age mentioned but just FYI I was imagining her in her 30s or 40s, first date, coffee, pet names (beautiful, sweetheart), some Spanish (mija, calmate)

...

On Monday, Marcus woke up with his alarm. 

Missy had picked it out – it wasn’t one of the sounds that came with his phone. She’d used some app to make it play part of “Takin’ Care of Business,” but only on weekdays. He didn’t know how to change it. He probably could have looked it up but he wouldn’t, anyway – she’d said it made her think of him going to work every day. So now it made him think of her, and at least he had that thought, if nothing else, to warm him as he got out of bed.

(His mood never quite matched the song’s, but at least he had a goal to work towards. Right?)

So he woke up when the piano came in, and sighed as he swung his legs off the bed. He sat there for a moment, letting Randy Bachman sing to him about getting to work by nine.

He sighed again.

He turned off the alarm, finally, and stood. He did not look in the mirror on top of his dresser as he walked past it into the bathroom.

Marcus showered and dressed on autopilot, mind almost blank. As always he just picked the next slacks, jacket, and shirt, whatever was at the front of his closet. He’d done this so many times, on so many mornings, it barely required him to be awake.

When the coffee maker beeped, he found himself standing fully dressed in his kitchen without really noticing that he’d walked there. He poured his coffee – just a splash of cream – and sat at the kitchen table to turn on the news. As he let the sound of yet another day wash over him, he texted Missy, smiling when she responded almost instantly.

Marcus 08:27 AM: Good morning, mija

Missy 08:28 AM: dad 08:28 AM: why did I sign up for a 9am dad 08:29 AM: i’m dying

Marcus 8:30 AM: if I’m remembering correctly, you had “big gym plans”

Missy 8:32 AM: never listen to me about gym plans again 8:33 AM: what was I thinkinggggg 😩

Marcus let his amusement at Missy’s texts buoy him to the sink and then out to his car, feeling a bit lighter. 

Like his morning routine at home, he barely noticed the drive to work. It was the same as always, and in 17 minutes he was getting out of his parked car at HQ. He felt his shoulders stiffen as he stepped through the double doors into the lobby.

On his floor, Marcus walked to the kitchen first to drop off his lunch. He nodded at the same people he walked past every morning. Then he sat at his desk, answered his emails, and attended some meetings about upcoming missions for the current active teams. On his way to the break room for lunch he nodded at the same people again. After lunch he attended a few more meetings, dodged Rob in the hallway when he asked about Marcus’ weekend, and answered more emails.

At 5pm he stood up from his desk and walked to his car, nodding to the same people again on his way out.

Marcus drove home on autopilot, and 17 minutes later he found himself walking into his kitchen from the garage. He sighed as he opened the fridge, and decided dinner would be leftovers. Again.

Since it was Monday, and Missy wouldn’t be calling, he sat on the couch and turned the TV to the Food Network. He let the soothing sounds of low stakes cooking problems take over and crowd himself out of his own head.

10pm found Marcus in bed, setting his alarm. He got comfortable, stretched out his back, which always seemed to be aching these days, and pointedly did not think about the fact that he couldn’t think of a single thing he’d done at work that day.

As he fell asleep, he thought idly that he was glad his time as an active member of the Heroics had taught him how to fall asleep anywhere, if nothing else.

…

On Tuesday, Marcus woke up with his alarm.

His morning unfolded almost identically to Monday’s, aside from the fact that Missy wasn’t awake yet to respond to his good morning text – her Tuesday classes started at 11:30 and she usually took full advantage of the chance to sleep in.

As he sat and sipped his coffee, something on the news briefly caught his interest, until he realized it was something that had already crossed his desk the week before. 

He sighed.

Marcus drove to work – 17 minutes – and went through the motions of another day at the office. 

He ate lunch with Rob in his office, which had bigger windows than Marcus’s, and got his regular updates on how Rob’s family was doing (Peter had gone off to college, too, and they commiserated about their kids abandoning them). 

Rob, as always, asked Marcus how he was doing with a knowing look that Marcus, as always, pointedly ignored.

“I’m fine,” he said, as always, stabbing a piece of chicken in his tupperware dish with a bit too much force. He was always fine. What else would he be?

Rob eyed him. “Are you?”

Marcus chewed and did not sigh. “Yes, I am,” he promised.

Rob squinted, and Marcus squinted back. That made his friend laugh, at least, and they changed the subject.

Marcus left the office a bit quicker that night and 17 minutes later he walked in the house just as his phone rang.

“Hi, mija,” he said, smiling as he picked up his daughter’s regular Tuesday phone call. She had a long walk home from her last class and usually called him to pass the time.

He let her voice wash over him, soothing the tension that had crept into his shoulders when Rob had squinted at him over lunch. Missy’s updates on her classes and her friends carried him through reheating his leftovers and collapsing on the couch. By the time she had to go he was more relaxed than he’d been in days. (Since her last call, probably, he did not let himself think, and made sure to tell her he loved her before she hung up.)

With a bit more help from the Food Network, Marcus successfully distracted himself until it was time for bed.

…

On Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday, Marcus woke up with his alarm. 

He got dressed, went to work, nodded at his coworkers, answered emails, ate lunch, nodded a bit more, and went home.

And through all of it, he was fine. 

He was fine. 

…

Marcus spent Saturday at home doing chores, and Sunday at the farmer’s market and the grocery store. Missy called once, and Rob texted him to invite him to Corina’s birthday dinner in two weeks. Marcus added it to his calendar and took care not to notice how every other weekend was empty.

…

On Monday, Marcus woke up with his alarm.

He moved automatically from his bed to his bathroom and then to his closet, showering and dressing as usual. 

He walked downstairs, thinking idly about the meetings he had scheduled in the morning, and the training he needed to plan for the newest crop of Heroics.

Lost in thought, Marcus stood holding an empty mug in front of his coffee maker for almost 5 minutes before he realized it hadn’t beeped. 

He blinked and looked down, confused. 

There was no coffee in the pot. He realized he hadn’t smelled the coffee as he usually did while he was getting ready. He looked it over and saw that the setting was right, but there was no coffee.

He frowned. 

Poking at the coffee maker revealed that the screen wouldn’t come on, even though it was plugged in. A few more moments of tinkering and he knew – it was broken.

Marcus sighed and checked the time – 8:10 AM. He texted Missy.

Marcus 08:10 AM: Mija, I am sorry to report that after a long and fruitful life, our beloved Mr. Coffee has percolated his last brew. May he rest in peace 🪦

Missy 08:12 AM: nooo!! not Mr. Coffee 💔 08:13 AM: your best friend, taken from us too soon 08:13 AM: how will you go on without him

He smiled. He knew she’d be able to cheer him up.

Marcus 08:15 AM: with difficulty, but I will persevere

Missy 08:17 AM: wait! 08:17 AM: dad you should go to the Bean Box!! I know you never actually did when I told you to 08:18 AM: it’s on your way to work dad you have to go 08:18 AM: it’s the best the coffee is so good 08:19 AM: daaaaaad

Marcus 08:20 AM: ok ok, calmate 08:20 AM: I’m going

Missy 08:22 AM: good! and get a scone to eat in my honor 08:23 AM: I miss those scones

15 minutes later Marcus pulled up in front of the small facade of the Bean Box and couldn’t help but smile. It was exactly the type of place Missy would like – cozy and colorful, with lots of tables stuffed inside and flower boxes overflowing along the bottom of each of the large windows in the front.

When he stepped inside, the smell of freshly roasted coffee filled his nose and he almost stopped in the doorway. It smelled good. 

He joined the long line for coffee and scrolled idly on his phone, checking the news, a bit oblivious to his surroundings. 

So he was surprised when his phone almost flew out of his hand a few moments later. Someone knocked into him from behind and he stumbled forward. He made some sort of noise as he juggled his phone between his hands, just barely catching it before it could fall.

“Good catch,” an admiring voice said from behind him. He turned as they continued, “Wait, I mean, I’m so sorry about that! Shit.”

Marcus turned around fully and almost froze. A woman was standing there with her hands out, as if she had just caught her balance, grimacing at him. A very beautiful woman, he couldn’t help but notice. He blinked, trying to clear his vision, but she was just as beautiful as she’d been a moment before. His eyes darted across her features but he didn’t let himself sweep his gaze over the rest of her. He didn’t want to be a creep.

Suddenly it felt much warmer in the coffee shop, and he was very aware of how close they were standing to each other.

“Shit,” she repeated. “Sorry, again. I tripped,” she pointed at the leg of a chair that was almost in the aisle, “and ended up sort of falling on you. But I’m glad you caught your phone! Nice catch, really.” She looked down and he did, too. She’d dropped her bag and some of her belongings had spilled out. She sighed. “Shit.”

Marcus was crouching before he’d even thought about bending down. “It’s alright,” he said, smiling a bit. “No harm done. Sorry about your stuff.” he gathered some papers and held them out to her. She had followed him down, kneeling as she gathered her things back into her bag.

She took them and said, “wait, you don’t have to do that! I already almost knocked you over, you don't have to help me.”

He shook his head. “Like I said, it’s fine.” He realized she had all of her things but they were both still crouching. He stood and offered her his hand to help her up. 

She slid her hand into his easily and his breath caught as she said, “well, thank you, and sorry, again.” Her hand was warm and he ignored the way his fingers tingled at her touch. 

She was smiling, then, and Marcus couldn’t help but notice that her smile was very pretty. So pretty he had to drag his eyes away from it, trying not to stare.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt like this. There was warmth in his chest and a floaty feeling in his stomach and the tips of his fingers were still tingling where they’d touched hers. It felt almost foreign, it had been so long. He felt lightheaded. 

“Please don’t worry about it.” He looked around and realized the line had moved a little, so he took a step forward to move with it. She did the same. “I’m Marcus, by the way.”

She gave her name and he smiled. It suited her.

“Can I buy you an apology coffee?” she asked, looking hopeful. “I still feel bad.”

He shook his head, laughing. “No, it’s really ok. I mean it.”

“Hmm,” she hummed, looking suddenly thoughtful and amused. “I’ve never had anyone turn down a free cup of coffee from here before. You must be new.”

Marcus was smiling. He realized he might have been smiling at her the whole time, and felt a bit of wonder at that. “It’s that obvious? I am. New, I mean. My daughter has been telling me to come here for months but this is my first time.”

Her eyebrows raised and he hoped he was imagining the way her expression closed off a bit. But in the next moment he wondered at himself for even thinking of it. Don’t be a fool, he warned himself, even as he felt the urge to explain. She’s just nice, she’s not interested. 

“She has good taste,” she said lightly. “What took you so long, then?”

Marcus sighed and gave in to the urge. “It’s just me at home, with her away at college, and I’ve just been torturing my ancient coffee maker by keeping it alive. But it took its last dying breaths this morning and I was forced to venture out for coffee, instead.”

She nodded solemnly. “Rest in peace, ancient coffee maker.” The jokingly serious look on her face reminded him of the way Missy would tease him and he couldn’t help but smile. Again.

Suddenly Marcus realized they’d made it to the front of the line. He wasn’t ready to order, or to stop talking to this beautiful woman who had almost knocked him over. 

“I guess I’m up,” he said, as the person in front of him started to pay. 

He tried not to watch as she bit her lip, hesitating for just a moment. “Well, Marcus,” she said, voice light again. “I’m here most mornings, so you’ll have to come back and let me know if you liked it.”

Marcus felt his cheeks warm and he smiled. “Ok then. I’ll try.”

For the rest of the day, he found he couldn’t quite wipe that smile off of his face, not even when Rob teased him about it.

…

On Tuesday, Marcus woke up with his alarm, already smiling.

He glanced at himself in the mirror as he got dressed, and was stunned to see his face looking so relaxed for once.

Is that all it takes? He wondered, amused at his own expense. A bit of flirting and a pretty smile? But it wasn’t just about her pretty smile, he knew that. He’d felt something the day before, something he hadn’t felt in years.

Something he wanted to feel again.

He’d told Missy he liked her coffee shop the night before and promised he’d be back (and that he’d get a scone, this time). So he hurried downstairs and out to his car as soon as he was dressed, ready to find out if he would run into her again.

When he pulled up outside The Bean Box, he took a deep, slow breath. Sure, he was a teensy bit invested. Something about her had kindled a tiny fire in his chest. But he didn’t want to get his hopes too high. He shouldn’t. Right?

But as he stepped inside, he realized he needn’t have worried. She was standing by the door, looking just as stunning as the day before. And she was watching the people coming in.

When she saw him, she grinned. “I knew you’d be back! It’s good, right?”

Marcus nodded as felt a smile stretch across his face. “It is. And I promised my daughter I’d get a scone this time.”

Her eyes lit up. He couldn’t look away. “Oh, you definitely need to get a scone. They’re amazing.”

She stepped into line next to him and he noticed they both kept their bodies turned towards each other as they talked. 

“You said she’s in college, right?” She tilted her head at him. Marcus tried not to trace the line of her neck with his eyes. “Is she enjoying it?”

He nodded. “She’s a freshman, but she settled in quick. She’s so independent, I knew she would.” He looked down, smiling as he thought about his daughter, and told her about Missy’s major. “She blows me away, honestly.”

When he looked back up he found her smiling softly at him. “Sounds like she’s got a great dad.”

Marcus smiled and ducked his head again. “I miss her, but it helps that she’s doing so well. And we talk a lot. More than I expected, really. Figured she’d be too busy.”

He felt something warm on his arm and realized she had reached out and lightly rested her hand on his forearm. He blinked and felt a flush rise in his cheeks and start to travel down his neck. He suddenly wished he wasn’t wearing a sweater over his dress shirt, wished he could feel her hand on his skin again.

“I’d say that means you’re definitely a great dad.” She was still smiling. “Take it from me, and my memories of college. I definitely didn’t talk to my parents that much.” She laughed and Marcus felt his breath catch at the way it lit up her features. Her hand was still on his arm and he fought the urge to cover it with his own, to keep it there.

He shook himself and nodded. “It’s been just us for so long. We are pretty close.”

She squeezed his arm lightly and he felt a shiver run up his spine. When her hand fell away, he missed it immediately. “Has it been tough? Adjusting without her.”

Marcus sighed and nodded. “My house is so empty now.” He laughed, ruefully. “I swear, it echoes in there. Never expected I would miss all the noise.”

She nodded. “I’ve got nieces and nephews, and they’re so loud, but I always miss it when they’re gone. It’s not the same, but I get that.”

As the line moved forward, she told him more about her sister’s kids and their antics. Marcus found himself smiling and laughing more than he had outside of a call with Missy in… months. Longer? He didn’t want to think about it, not when he was caught up in feeling like this instead. 

By the time they reached the front of the line, he was only wishing they had more time.

She hesitated when it was almost her turn to step up to the counter. “Did you get your coffee maker fixed?”

He shook his head. “No, I don’t think it’s fixable, and honestly it deserves to rest. It lived a long life.”

She laughed and then bit her lip. It drew his eyes like a magnet. 

“So, will I see you again tomorrow?” She looked hopeful and he wanted so badly to read into it.

“I think so,” he agreed, smiling a bit shyly. 

She grinned at him. “Good.”

He carried the memory of that grin with him through the rest of the day, until Rob managed to weasel the whole story out of him over lunch. He told his friend about the way they’d met and how she’d been standing inside the door that morning.

But somehow telling it to someone else had Marcus second guessing the whole thing. 

“I’m probably just imagining it.” He was standing with Rob in the hall by his office, coming back from lunch, wishing it had never come up. 

“Well, I think you should go back and you should talk to her again.” Rob furrowed his brow at Marcus and poked him in the arm. 

Marcus frowned and brushed his hand away. “Rob, she’s probably not interested.” 

His friend frowned back, exaggerating the expression until it was comical. “Sounded like she was. Why wouldn’t she be?”

Marcus shook his head and grimaced. “Why would she be? I’m a sad, boring, almost 50-year old man who does nothing but go to work and wait for his daughter to call him. I’m not delusional, ok, I know no one wants to deal with that. Especially not someone like her.”

Rob sighed. He reached out and grabbed Marcus’ shoulders and squeezed. “Marcus. Listen to me. You are a smart, funny, and caring man who loves his daughter and his friends. You deserve more, ok? Tell me you know that.”

Marcus shook his head. “Know what?”

“That it’s not a delusion to think you deserve to be loved.”

“Loved?” Marcus shook his head and tried not to scoff. “We’re just talking about someone I met at a coffee shop.” He ignored that his heart had started to beat just a bit faster when he thought about her, just like it had in The Bean Box when she’d touched his arm. And when she’d smiled at him, looking so hopeful that she’d see him again.

Rob raised his eyebrows. “Someone you can’t stop thinking about, and who flirted with you and got you out of your shell. Right?”

Marcus sighed.

“Marcus,” Rob said, voice careful, and Marcus knew what was coming next. “Is this about Melissa? I–”

He shook his head, interrupting. “No, I mean, not really. You know I’ve gone on dates, well, a while ago. It’s just…” He closed his eyes. “It’s been so long, and since Missy left for college, I’ve just been…” he trailed off, looking for the right word. “Asleep, I think. It’s so quiet. Every day is the same.”

Marcus opened his eyes to find his best friend frowning at him.

“I get it. But it sounds like this shook you out of that routine, right?” Marcus sighed. “Marcus, look, just– promise me you won’t just dismiss it, ok? Give it a chance.”

He wanted to scrub his hands over his eyes but Rob was still holding his shoulders. “How do I do that?”

Rob shrugged. “You’ve already run into her twice. Just keep going back. See what happens.”

Marcus closed his eyes and finally broke out of his friend’s hold. He leaned against the wall behind him. “Ok. Ok, I can do that.”

Rob let out a long breath, clearly relieved. “Good. And just let yourself enjoy it, ok? I know you know how to flirt. Even if you’re rusty.”

Marcus rolled his eyes and shoved Rob back a bit. “Yeah, yeah. I thought you wanted me to go back, huh? Stop making me nervous.”

Rob waved his hand, laughing. “You’re already nervous. But I’ve seen you flirt, man, even if it’s been a minute. I believe in you.”

At least someone did.

…

On Wednesday, Marcus woke up with his alarm, and immediately felt nervous.

He paused in front of his closet, actually looking at his clothes for the first time in a long time. Should I wear this shirt? Or a sweater? He hesitated, cursed himself for wasting time, and then grabbed the next shirt and slacks, as always. 

He walked straight past his kitchen on his way to his car, only glancing at the clock. 08:14 AM.

Missy 08:17 AM: are you going to the Bean Box again 08:18 AM: have I created a monster

Marcus 08:27 AM: just pulled up 08:27 AM: I’ll eat a scone for you

Missy 08:28 AM: mail me one 🙏

Marcus 08:29 AM: counter offer: I’ll buy you one when you’re home next

Missy 08:29 AM: deal 

Marcus was smiling at his phone as he opened the door into the coffee shop, belatedly looking up at his surroundings after he stepped inside. He didn’t see her and started to frown.

“Let me guess – your daughter?” 

He turned to find her behind him, leaning against the high table by the door. She gestured at his phone with a smile. He nodded. “How’d you know?”

She stepped closer and looked down at his phone. “You were smiling at it as you walked in.”

He couldn’t help but smile again. “She asked me to mail her a scone.”

She laughed and Marcus watched the way it changed her face. Beautiful. 

“Would it survive?” She grinned and fell into step next to him in the line for coffee.

He shook his head. “No, but I promised I’d buy her one next time she’s home.”

“When’s that?”

“Spring break.”

She frowned sympathetically. “So far away! That’s too bad.”

Marcus sighed, agreeing. “It is, but it helps knowing that she’s having such a great time.”

She looked thoughtful and nudged Marcus with her shoulder. He felt himself flush. “You know, you could look up coffee shops near her campus and buy her a gift card or something. Somewhere similar. Probably better than mailing a scone.”

He blinked, surprised. That was a good idea. “I…” he trailed off. “That’s–”

“Sorry,” she interrupted, wincing. “I didn’t mean–”

“No,” he said, not wanting her to apologize. He touched his fingertips lightly to her arm – she was wearing short sleeves, and the touch of his skin against hers deepened his flush. His fingertips started to tingle and he felt his heart start to beat faster in his chest. “I was going to say, that’s a great idea. Thank you.”

She grinned at him and leaned forward, which brought her arm more in contact with his hand. Suddenly he found himself with a light hold on her forearm, gripping it gently. He stroked his thumb across her skin before he even realized what he was doing. 

“I was worried I’d overstepped,” she said without moving away from him.

Marcus shook his head, momentarily speechless at the feel of her skin and the knowledge that she hadn’t pulled away.

“No,” he murmured. “I’m definitely going to do that. She’ll love it.”

For a moment he didn’t move, and neither did she. He noticed the line moving out of the corner of his eye but didn’t do anything about it until the person behind them in line cleared their throat.

Startled, he stepped forward, losing contact with her arm. She was still smiling at him as she turned.

“You know,” he said, wishing he could reach out to touch her hand. “I never asked what brings you here every day.”

She hummed. “Well the coffee, of course,” she winked at him, “but I also work from here most mornings. I like the atmosphere, and all of my meetings are in the afternoon.”

He nodded, thinking that sounded nice.  “So if I were to keep up my new coffee habit, you’d be here in the mornings?”

She turned towards him then and he leaned closer. 

“Yep,” she agreed. “Most days. Maybe you could stick around sometime.” She raised her eyebrows but he sighed. 

“I can’t,” he said, looking down. “Have to be in the office.”

Her face fell and he felt something twist inside his chest. She opened her mouth to reply but he interrupted. He didn’t want her to feel like that, not when he was feeling like this.

“Maybe we could,” his voice came out a bit strangled and he cleared his throat. “Maybe we could have dinner sometime instead?”

Marcus watched as her face transformed from disappointed to hopeful. He smiled. 

“I’d like that, Marcus.”

…

Marcus couldn’t remember the last time he’d been on a date, it had been so long.

(That was a lie – he just didn’t want to remember, it had gone so badly. But it had been years – he was pretty sure Missy had been in middle school at the time.)

He spent way too long staring at his clothes and trying to ignore Rob’s encouraging texts. He settled on dark jeans and a sweater. When his phone pinged again, he finally looked down to check it. 

Rob (5:37 PM): Corina says wear the dark green sweater (5:38 PM): I don’t even know which sweater she’s talking about but I assume you do

Marcus looked down and laughed. He had, in fact, chosen the dark green sweater.

Marcus (5:41 PM): tell her I am and that I had the same idea

Rob (5:43 PM): she says good choice and have a great time (5:44 PM): I mean, me too

Marcus smiled as he walked downstairs. He was glad for the support, but he knew he looked good in this sweater. It was one of the few purchases he’d made in recent years just because he liked the way it looked.

He got in the car and headed towards the restaurant where they’d agreed to meet. It was a short drive but he could feel himself getting more and more nervous the closer he got. 

After he parked, he stopped and took a deep breath. He thought of Melissa, as he’d done quite a bit since he met the beautiful woman in the coffee shop. It had been so long since they’d lost her, and he’d had quite a bit of time to think about dating again. This wasn’t even his first try.

But it always made him a little wistful. He took a moment to think about what she’d say – probably something about how his arms looked in the sweater. The thought made him laugh and shake his head. He got out of the car.

She was waiting by the door, and she was stunning.

…

You tried not to fidget as you stood by the door to the restaurant. It was a place your coworker had recommended, but you’d never been. Your nerves had driven you to arrive ten minutes early and now you had nothing to do but wait, and think of the gorgeous man you were waiting for.

And he really was gorgeous. You’d known that from the moment he’d turned around after you’d almost knocked him over in your favorite coffee shop – a memory that made your cheeks burn, even now, you’d been so embarrassed. He was tall with a jawline that made you want to bite, shoulders that were so broad you needed to get your hands on them, and warm brown eyes that had so much feeling in them, it took your breath away.

And then he’d smiled at you, and helped you with your things. And flirted. And then he’d come back, and kept coming back. For coffee, of course, but also to talk to you.

Every time he walked into The Bean Box, he looked around, looking for you. And when he saw you, his face lit up. You couldn’t help but smile just thinking about it.

How is he single? It was a question you’d been wondering about all week. You figured it was probably because he was a single dad, and his daughter had just gone to college. But at the same time you couldn’t comprehend that no one had locked this gorgeous, thoughtful, funny, caring man down. Their loss, you thought, and smiled again.

At that moment you looked up, and caught sight of Marcus getting out of his car. Your smile stretched into a grin.

“Hello there,” he said, smiling as he walked closer to you. “You look stunning this evening.”

You looked him over and tilted your head. “So do you, in that sweater.”

He blushed and you bit your lip. It was so charming when he did that. 

“Ready for dinner?” he asked, and when you nodded he turned to guide you inside. You felt his hand come up to rest on your lower back. It was big and warm, just as warm as it had been when he’d held your arm. You shivered.

The restaurant had a table waiting for you, and you turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow. He smiled and shrugged. “I called two days ago when you said yes to dinner.”

The table they led you to was cozy – tucked in a corner with a window, a romantic candle flickering in the center. When you sat, you realized a couple of plants hid you from the rest of the room.

“Cozy,” you said, smiling. 

Marcus nodded. “My best friend has brought his wife here, says it’s fantastic. And romantic.”

“Hmm,” you hummed, reaching out to nudge his hand where it rested on the table. “Romantic, huh?”

Marcus looked suddenly unsure, which made you slide your hand over his and squeeze. “Is that alright?”

You nodded. “It’s more than alright, Marcus. It’s perfect.”

He smiled again, and the two of you settled into an easy conversation about your weeks, about his daughter, and about your work. It flowed just as comfortably as it had at the coffee shop and you felt the warmth that Marcus had kindled inside of you from the first moment start to burn again. It carried you through dinner.

You watched his face as he talked and couldn’t help but marvel again at how handsome he was. He seemed to notice your focus and smirked a bit. “What?”

“Hmm?” you blinked, eyes snapping back to meet his.

He reached across the table and laced his fingers with yours. “I was just wondering what you were thinking.”

Your face warmed but you wanted to tell him, anyway. “Just got distracted by how handsome you are.”

Marcus blushed again and you grinned. “Really?” he looked doubtful, and you couldn’t have that.

“Oh yes,” you said, leaning towards him. “Not for the first time. You know how hard it was not to stare, in the coffee shop?”

He laughed and picked up your hand. He leaned forward, too, and pressed a soft kiss to your knuckles. You bit your lip at the sensation of his lips against your skin. “Me?” he asked, smiling against your knuckles. “What about you? You’re so beautiful I couldn’t take my eyes off you. And then you smiled, and well.” He kissed your knuckles again. “Still can’t look away from you, even if I wanted to.”

For a moment you just stared at each other, smiling. 

“Marcus,” you started, lifting your fingers to press against his jaw. He held on, but let you turn your hand until you could cup his cheek. “Do you want to come home with me?”

He blinked, clearly surprised. “I–” He swallowed, looking nervous. “It’s been a while, since…” he trailed off. “It’s been a while,” he repeated, smiling shyly.

You traced his cheekbone with your thumb. “There’s no rush,” you promised. You leaned a little closer and he leaned in to meet you. “I just want you to kiss me, Marcus,” you murmured, and watched his pleasure at that idea take over his handsome face. “And then we can just see where it takes us. No rush, no pressure.”

His eyes darkened as he smiled, a new sort of smile you hadn’t seen before. It made you press your thighs together under the table. “No rush,” he repeated, “but I’ve been wanting to kiss you, too,” he said, voice low and warm. He moved to stand. “Let’s go.”

…

Marcus stepped up close behind you at your door, and you smiled at the feeling of his warm body almost touching yours. His hand came to rest on your waist and you shivered. 

You finally managed to unlock the door and he followed you in. 

So quickly it made your head spin, Marcus turned and pressed you up against the inside of your door. you gasped. His chest was just as broad and firm as you’d thought, and he held you easily in place, right where he wanted you. You marveled at his sudden confidence – it looked very good on him.

“Hi there, beautiful,” he murmured, looking down at your lips. “Can I kiss you?”

“Please,” you breathed. Before you could say anything else, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours.

Marcus’s lips were warm, and soft, and his kiss was slow and gentle. It seeped into you and you felt his warmth light you up from the inside. 

Your hands found his hips and you tugged him forwards until your bodies were touching from shoulder to knee. He moaned lightly, into your mouth, and suddenly his kiss wasn’t so gentle anymore.

It was fierce. Your head was spinning as you opened your mouth to him and felt his tongue stroke along yours.

His thigh came to rest between yours and you shivered.

“Marcus,” you sighed, breaking the kiss. He pressed soft kisses along your cheek and jaw before he let his head drop to your shoulder.

“You feel perfect against me, you know that?” His voice sounded almost hoarse, and you wrapped your arms around his waist. His sweater was soft and it made you smile. His right hand was flat against the door by your head but his left came up to cup your jaw and neck. “Shit, sweetheart. You’re perfect.”

You pressed a kiss to the side of his head. “I’m not perfect,” you laughed. 

He shook his head against your shoulder. “Feels pretty perfect.” He thrust his hips forward and pressed his thigh against you more firmly. You moaned. 

You felt Marcus huff a small laugh against your shoulder and pulled back to eye him. “What?”

He was smiling. “It’s nothing.” He shook his head as you raised your eyebrow, still confused. “I was just thinking how lucky I am that my coffee machine broke that day. Never would have met you, otherwise.”

You felt your face relax as you smiled back and leaned in for another soft kiss. “Sounded like it was on its last legs, from what you told me.”

He laughed again, and you grinned. “It was. RIP, Mr. Coffee, and thank you for your timely death.”

You hummed. “I like to think I would have found you, anyway. Maybe on another day at the Box.”

Marcus pressed forward and buried his face in your neck again. You felt his soft kisses working their way down to your shoulder and shivered. “Yeah? How?”

You shrugged and he nipped at your shoulder. “Just feels right, you know? I felt it the moment I met you.” You leaned your head to the side and he took advantage, worrying a mark at the spot where it met your shoulder. It made you squirm and his grip on you tightened. “Like I’d found something I’d been looking for, and didn’t even know it.”

He lifted his head again and the look in his eyes made your breath catch in your throat. “I know exactly what you mean, sweetheart. You woke me up when you almost knocked me over.” He grinned, teasing you.

“What do you mean?” You lifted one of your hands and let your fingers trail through his hair.

He leaned into it, smiling. “I’ve been… asleep. Living the same day, over and over again. And then I met you, and it’s like I’m awake for the first time since Missy left. Before that, probably.” He leaned forward and kissed you, gently. “You woke me up,” he repeated. You smiled, surprised and pleased that you’d had such an effect on him, too.

Marcus kissed you again, and for a while after that there wasn’t a lot of talking. You could only manage his name, and please, and don’t stop.

He didn’t.

...

a/n: 🥰

[colormepurplex2]

Falling In Love At A Coffee Shop | MYG

▻ Falling In Love At A Coffee Shop ↳ ArtProfessor!Yoongi x Artist/CoffeeShopOwner!f.Reader ⤜ Strangers to Lovers, Cozy Romance ⤜ Coffee Shop/Art AU | fluff, smut ⤜ Rating: MA ⤜ WC: 8,028 ⤜ Summary: It’s like clockwork; you receive the same online order every weekday morning at eight o’clock: large decaf iced Americano, picked up promptly shortly after. His face has become familiar, as a part of your routine as the hiss of the espresso machine. Until, one day, that routine takes an unexpected turn, and you find yourself getting familiar with more than just his face. ⚠️ Very mild language, panic over student/teacher potential date (reader is a student, but she's the same age as Yoongi, just taking classes later in life than most), oral m receiving, fingering, kissing, mild dirty talk, cum swallowing, confessions of the heart

A/N: This is part of my 'Heartbeat Melodies' mini-series, where I write fics that are inspired by songs. If you'd like to hear the song that inspired this, you can find it here! A special thank you to @downbad4yoongi & @moonleeai for their amazing beta services!

Can also be found on: Ao3 | Wattpad

“Large decaf iced Americano,” you call out, barely glancing up from behind the counter.

A deep, familiar drawl pulls your attention, “That would be mine.” It’s only familiar for the fact you’ve heard that voice nearly every day for the last six months.

Your eyes snap up from the tablet, where the next online order has come through, to meet warm brown ones. “I should have known,” you reply before you can think better to bite your tongue. Heat suffuses your cheeks. You pull your lips between your teeth to stifle the groan of embarrassment that begs to be released.

The man chuckles, absently using a knuckle to push up the hornrimmed glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know if I should be offended or honored by that comment. But, I guess I do come here a lot.”

Nearly every day for the last six months, at least. That’s how often he comes here—to your coffee shop. It’s tiny, barely big enough for a handful of small tables and chairs. But it’s yours, and you’re proud of it.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean for that to seem…” you trail off. Not sure how to finish that thought because you’re not entirely sure how you meant it or why you said it other than the fact you’re a bit frazzled this morning and apparently forgot your mouth filter at home. It was a late night last night for you. It's not an excuse, but still.

He waves a large hand in the air, dismissing your apology. “Please, it’s quite alright. I’ll take it as flattery; could use a little boost to my confidence anyhow.”

That almost makes you sputter in disbelief. There’s absolutely no way this man needs any flattery. Surely, he comes by it in droves. Because, well, he’s honestly so gorgeous it should be criminal.

His hair is fluffy, somewhere between charcoal grey and black, though the warm lighting of your cafe gives it a golden honey halo effect. The eyes behind his black-rimmed glasses are dark swirls of espresso that match his coffee order—a straight nose sitting above soft, pink lips that have a light glossy sheen to them.

As usual, he’s wearing a pressed slack and jacket combo, a cream-colored collared shirt underneath with a bold print tie. His choice of ties is what drew you to him in the first place, and made you pay a little closer attention to the mysterious man behind the large decaf iced Americano.

You clear your throat, daring to be bold, while it seems you’ve no filter to stop you. “Well, if you ever need further flattery, you know where to find me.” It’s clear that you give him an assessing once over, his eyes locked onto yours as you do so.

“Do you paint?”

The question throws you off, nearly making you drop the tablet in your hands. Your fingers flex against the case, your thumb brushing along the glass screen. Busying yourself with reviewing the next order on the screen, you turn, giving him your back as you decide how to answer his random question. You’ve never actually had a conversation with him; this man that you feel like you know yet is a complete stranger.

“Why do you ask?” you deflect as you go through the motions of scooping grinds and swapping out the portafilter for a freshly filled one. However, you know it’s not always polite to answer a question with a question; you’re just not sure how to decipher his curiosity or where it came from to begin with.

The bell above the door rings, and you wince as the espresso machine gurgles and hisses loudly as you mechanically pop a cup in the machine and hit the brew button. The noise fills the quiet space of the coffee shop. It’s not until the cup is filled, you’ve added two lumps of sugar, and you’re grabbing a lid that the man responds.

“There’s paint under your fingernails. Or, at least, what I would guess is paint.”

Glancing down at the cup in your hand, you take in the colorful myriad of flecks coating your skin. The colors fill the grooves of your knuckles and hug around the bed of your nails.

“Double espresso with two sugars,” you announce, ripping your gaze from your hand to the interior space of your cafe. A woman steps around the man, giving you a hurried smile as she holds out her hand to receive the cup. You hand it off. “Have a good day.”

Giving the cafe's inside a quick glance, you ensure all the customers within are taken care of. A college student is busy pounding away at their laptop keyboard in the corner, utilizing your free wifi. A half-empty cup of hot cocoa sits cold and abandoned beside them. A trio of friends sit at your only table big enough to seat more than two people, laughing softly and sipping hot lattes and teas. No one seems to need your attention; except the man still standing there, large decaf iced Americano in hand.

You lick your lips, a nervous habit you picked up after endless stressful nights pouring your heart, soul, blood, sweat, and tears into opening the small cafe. Most believed it would flop; others rallied to your side and helped your dream come true.

“Look, sorry if I’ve overstepped somehow,” he begins, but you shake your head, letting him know he’s not.

Gesturing at the wall behind the man, you finally answer, “In my spare time.”

He glances over his shoulder, eyes zigzagging across the giant unfinished mural covering the windowless back wall of the cafe.

“That?” he asks. “You’re painting that?”

It’s hard to decipher if that’s disbelief or awe coloring his voice.

“I am,” you answer a bit hesitantly.

“Wow!” he exclaims, a giant grin spreading across his face, crinkling his eyes at the corners. “I’ve been meaning to ask after the artist every time I come in and see something new added, I just uh,” he brings his free hand up and rubs it across the back of his neck, eyes dropping to the floor under his feet, “well, could never bring myself to.” It’s pretty, the way his cheeks take on a flush of color as his eyes cut to you from over the frame of his glasses. “It’s wonderful work.”

“Thank you.” You can’t help your own flush of shyness at his praise.

“So, uh,” he lifts his cup and gives it a swirl, the ice sloshing around inside, before taking a small sip through the straw, “I know you probably see it on the order, but for the sake of propriety, my name’s Yoongi.”

Min Yoongi, to be more precise, you know. It’s a name you’ve read so many times it’s ingrained in your mind. However, it’s still nice for him to offer it to you. Willingly establishing your connection one step further than his coffee order.

You feel so silly tapping the name tag on the front of your apron, but you do it before you can think better of it, mumbling your name as if he can’t read it for himself after you brought direct attention to it. “Sorry, I’m not normally so weird,” you give a shaky laugh, willing yourself to shut up before you chase him off from how awkward you’re being.

Something changes in his demeanor, his eyes taking on a light twinkle that sits somewhere between mischief and wonder. “I like weird,” he offers casually as if that doesn’t make your stomach swoop and your heart beat a little harder. “Maybe we can talk more about your art sometime. Maybe over dinner? Or lunch if dinner is too forward.”

If you were a cartoon, you’re confident your tongue would actually be tied into a jumbled knot right now with you frantically trying to talk around it, a comical scene for sure. Yet, there is no knot, just a thick feeling that you have to swallow past. “Um, yeah, sure. That would be great. Dinner…or uh, lunch. Both. Either one. Though, dinner might be better considering my hours.”

Yoongi glances at the vinyl hours printed on the front window by the door. They’re backward from his vantage point, but you assume he has no issue reading them, considering he turns back to you and asks, “How does seven work for you?”

“Tonight?” The beating of your heart lurches again, and you can barely hear him over the rushing in your ears.

“Yeah, if that’s not too soon. Perhaps next week, if that’s better? I don’t want to come on too strong. Or well, rather, what I mean to say is, don’t feel pressured.” You can tell he’s feeling hesitant now, trying to backtrack and offer you a way to politely decline his offer for dinner tonight. You didn’t mean to come off sounding so put out. You just weren’t expecting his request to be for tonight.

Mentally, you dig through your schedule. You’re not closing today. Marvin comes in at noon to help with the lunch rush, and then you leave at four to make it to your five o’clock class. It would be today of all days that your new art class starts. It’s the beginning of the fall semester at the local university, and you just so happened to decide to take a few art classes they were offering, the first of which starts tonight.

The class should only be around an hour long, with plenty of time to get home and change before the date. Is it a date? Or just strangers getting together to talk about art? Isn’t that what a date is anyway, though?

“Seven. Tonight. That would be great.”

“Okay, perfect. Can I pick you up? Or we can meet here if that works better.”

It’s endearing he’d offer, both picking you up and meeting in a familiar place. Considering you live above the coffee shop, though, it makes no difference. Though, he doesn’t necessarily know that.

“Here is fine.”

“Wonderful. Have you tried that steak house on the corner yet?”

“The new one that opened last week?” He nods. “I haven’t, no.”

“Perfect.” Yoongi smiles. “Here, at seven. Consider it a date.” His smile falters, and his brows pinch, forming a line between them. “Not that I…well, it’s not that…it doesn’t have to be…if you don’t want this to be a date, that’s—”

“It’s a date,” you confirm, giving him what you hope to be a warm smile to ease his mild panic. “I’ll see you then, Yoongi.”

“See you then,” he responds, tacking your name on at the end in his deep drawl. The way it sounds coming from his mouth should be added to one of those spicy erotica audiobooks you may or may not have downloaded on your phone.

Just as Yoongi is leaving, it’s like the world finally takes a breath, and the exhalation that follows brings with it a rush of early morning commuters seeking their morning fix. The everyday bustle and hubbub of the day filter back in, and you’re soon lost to the sway of the shop, coffee, tea, and cocoa. It all comes alive beneath your nimble fingers, much reminiscent of the way holding a brush makes you feel: a thrill of the soul with each pour.

☕☕☕

Yoongi

In all Yoongi’s years of teaching, he’s never been late to a class, especially on the first day of the semester. Yet, he’s nearly fifteen minutes late getting into his classroom this morning. Students are already filled in and scattered around the theatre-style seating. No one says anything. It’s far too early in the morning for smart mouths and snarky remarks about his tardiness. Not that he would expect that from any of the students anyway.

“Good morning, welcome to Art 320. I’m Professor Min.” He drops his bag and coffee off on his podium at the front of the classroom. Turning to the large chalkboard behind it, he scrawls his name to the side and then begins to write directions. “We will begin with Chapter 1, ‘Mediums and Forms’, in your textbook. Please read quietly, and I’ll be with you all in a moment.”

The day goes on, class after class, and the familiar monotony of it brings Yoongi a sense of peace. This is familiar territory; he’s in his element, not like this morning in the coffee shop. He felt totally out of control and swept up in the swirl of uncertainties and possibilities.

To say he’s relieved you agreed to go to dinner with him would be an understatement. From the moment he decided to change up his routine to check out the cafe Namjoon wouldn’t shut up about, he’s been hooked not only on the impeccable decaf iced Americano, nor the beautifully decorated and painted interior but on the smiling face behind the counter.

Yoongi feels a bit self-conscious thinking about how much he thinks about you. He’s always been too intimidated by the idea of speaking more than a few passing words to you. It’s like every time he gathered up the courage, it would abandon him at the last moment. Namjoon calls it a crush, Yoongi calls it frustrating.

The whole conversation this morning is a bit of a blur to him. Yoongi swears once he opened his mouth it was nearly impossible to stop the word vomit from gushing out…and the next thing he knew, you were agreeing to a date with him tonight.

The day's last class rolls around, and Yoongi feels much lighter as he steps out of his adjoining office and into the classroom to welcome the new students. A few offer him quiet hello’s, some he’s seen from other art classes he’s monitored across the entire department and fine arts program. 

Turning his back as the last few students filter in, he makes the same spiel he has at the beginning of every class. “Good morning, welcome to Art 320. I’m Professor Min…”

And so it begins, the beautiful dance of teaching and introducing fresh minds to the concept of forms and mediums. Yoongi is sure he could recite the entirety of Chapter 1 from memory now, with as many times as he’s gone over it today.

“What if you decide you don’t like your form or medium halfway through the project?” a student from the front row asks after Yoongi explains the medium and forms requisite for the final project for this class.

“We’re going to spend plenty of time during the first part of the semester testing out different mediums to know which best suits each of your individual tastes and needs. Regarding the form, I recommend choosing something you most likely won’t tire of. Something that means something to you but also isn’t so complex that you frustrate yourself and burn out before you can complete the project. You’re welcome to, at any time, bring me an idea of the form you’re considering, and we can talk about the intricacies and any potential issues that might arise with using it.”

Another question comes from somewhere in the middle, “Can we choose people, too?”

“A form can be anything that inspires you. If that happens to be a person, then of course. However, note that portraiture isn’t covered until Art 322, but I’ll do my best to help if that’s what you choose.” Yoongi glances at the clock, noticing there are only a few minutes left of class. “Let’s take the last few minutes to wind down, pack your things. If you have any further questions concerning your final project forms and mediums, please don’t hesitate to email me. Also, my office hours are open Tuesdays and Thursdays from two to six.”

As Yoongi turns to begin putting his things away from his podium, his eyes slide across the faces of his last class students, trying to cram them into his mind for the sake of remembering. He always likes to be as personable and approachable to his students as possible; knowing names and faces is always a good place to start.

He has to do a double take as his eyes flick over the very top row. The shock is felt throughout his entire body. It’s not that he’s surprised to see a face he already knows. It’s just that he wasn’t expecting it…wasn’t expecting to see you. Mild panic makes him jerk around, hands gripping at the papers on his podium, shuffling them mechanically.

The first thought that crosses his mind is he can’t possibly be going on a date with one of his students. Surely you’re just here to…to what? He turns over one of the papers, quickly scanning his roster that he hadn’t bothered to check yet. It doesn’t take long for his eyes to snag on your name.

Unease settles across his shoulders. He hates to cancel the date, as he was really looking forward to it, but it’s just…not right, right? There’s a line he shouldn’t cross with his students, even one who he is sure is his age and not the typical college freshman. Yoongi knows this because maybe, perhaps, he might have spent his lunch hour googling you and the cafe. You’re in your early thirties, given the birth year that was viewable on one of your social media pages, and own the coffee shop, have for several years now…a full-ass grown adult—the perfect person to date.

Except now you’re his student. There’s some moral code there somewhere, something about the skewed power dynamic. The thought of going on this date should have red flags flashing in his mind. Yet…yet, no matter how much he tells himself to cancel, he honestly doesn’t want to. Surely, it wouldn’t hurt that much, right? A harmless date.

That’s what he’s still telling himself as he dismisses the class a few minutes later. He intentionally avoided looking in your direction, unsure if you’d be comfortable with him acknowledging you as one of his students or not.

Much to his surprise, as the bubble of sound dissipates, a soft voice reaches his ears from a few feet behind him, “Fancy meeting you here.”

Yoongi has been so consumed with his own feelings about going on a date with a student that he hasn’t even thought about how you might feel. Are you about to cancel on him? Does he try to convince you not to?

He slowly turns, the stack of papers clutched in his hands, glasses slipping down his nose, yet he doesn’t want to pry his fingers from the bundle to fix them. “Look, I understand if you’d rather not—”

“I’m fine as long as you are.”

He’s relieved for your interruption, for keeping him from saying those words out loud. “Are you sure? If I had known this morning that you’d be one of my students…” he trails off, because he’s not so sure that would have stopped him after all. Considering he’s wanted to ask you out for at least the last four months.

“I’m glad you asked me. Student or not. I promise not to make it weird if you don’t.” You give him a brilliant smile, coy and full of mirth but light enough to make his heart jerk inside his chest.

“No weirdness, got it,” he agrees, unable to help his own teasing smile.

“So, I’ll see you then?” you ask, hefting your canvas bag on your shoulder. His eyes flick to it, noting the splashes and swirls of fabric paint that cover the outside. Yoongi wonders if you painted it yourself.

He nods, letting his eyes drink you in one last time before you turn to go. You’re still wearing the same jeans and thin cable knit sweater from the coffee shop this morning. Even in such casual clothes, you are stunning. A work of art all your own. He doesn’t stop staring until the door to his classroom shuts behind you.

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath. It’s not out of irritation or anger, just an acknowledgement of how truly and utterly he’s got it down bad for you.

☕☕☕

Seven can’t come soon enough. It only took you thirty minutes to get ready, putting on a simple black dress and flats. It’s not too fancy, but it makes you feel far more put together than just jeans and a t-shirt.

At five til, you make your way down into the coffee shop from your upstairs apartment. All of the main overhead lights are off, leaving only the warm accent lights that line the menu board and the display case lights on. Even now, the space smells delightedly of coffee.

It’s kind of funny, the fact that you’re not a coffee drinker. Everyone finds it odd that someone who doesn’t drink coffee would aspire to open a coffee shop. What they fail to realize is you love the smell of coffee. The warm, roasted, mildly sweet notes are what you thrive on, better than any shot of espresso in your mind.

There is a street lamp right outside your shop, flooding the sidewalk with a pool of yellow light. Standing just within the glow is Yoongi, his back to the shop door. You watch as his head swivels, looking down both directions of the sidewalk, completely unaware that you’ll be coming from behind him instead.

The sound of the lock turning over startles him. He jerks around and laughs softly, taking a step back, hand to his chest, as you pull the door open. “Can’t say I expected you to come from inside the cafe.”

“I would have been down sooner had I known you would be a bit early,” you say, locking the door behind you. “I probably should have given you my number or something.”

Yoongi eyes you, his gaze sliding up and down your body like he’s drinking you in. You hope he likes what he sees. “I think I was so excited about the date that I forgot even to ask,” he admits, giving you a sheepish smile when his eyes finally land back on yours. “You look,” —he gives you another quick once over, shaking his head and sinking his teeth into his bottom lip— “gorgeous.”

“Thank you,” you preen under his praise. “You look quite handsome, yourself.”

You’re not just saying that to return the compliment, either. Yoongi is wearing the same thing he was this morning, except the tie is loosened, and the top button of his shirt is undone, giving you the slightest peek at his prominent jugular notch.

“Shall we?” he asks, offering you his arm.

You slip your hand into the bend of his elbow, falling into step beside him. The walk to the steak house is short, just enough for pleasant exchanges. He asks how your day at the coffee shop went, and you ask after his first day of classes. Neither of you bring up the fact that you were part of one of those classes.

“I’ve been meaning to check this place out. I’ve heard excellent things.”

Yoongi hums, nodding his head at your words. “I’ve also heard good things, though it might perhaps be biased considering all the praise I’ve heard has come from the owner himself.”

“You’ve spoken with the owner?”

“He’s one of my best friends, actually. This will be the first time I try it out. I kept telling him I’d stop by, but it always got away from me.”

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles up. “I can’t believe you know Seokjin.”

“Wait, you know Seokjin?” Yoongi asks, surprised.

“I’d say know is a relative term. We get deliveries from the same produce truck. He tried to take my apples one time. I had to set him straight.” That makes Yoongi laugh along with you. “We chat sometimes, mostly about the quality of produce and the best places to get ingredients. I had no idea he was your friend.”

“Small world,” Yoongi says. His smile is warm and inviting. You’re sure you could get lost in it if he’d let you. It makes you wonder what his lips taste like. They have a slight sheen to them like they did this morning. Cherry chapstick? Maybe mint? A nice subtle vanilla?

You’re not sure the last time you laughed so hard you had tears in your eyes. But Yoongi has your sides in stitches and your cheeks aching from smiling and laughing so much during dinner.

“Oh gosh,” you wheeze between fits of giggling, clutching your stomach. “Ow, ow. Don’t make me laugh again. I can’t take it.” It just makes you laugh even more, the huffs trailing off as Yoongi reaches across the table toward you.

You pry your hands from your abdomen and slide them into his. His fingers are warm against yours, his thumbs rubbing across the backs of your knuckles. It’s a gesture he’s done several times tonight, silently asking for your hands any chance he could.

“Sorry, you just have such a beautiful laugh,” he says. “I could listen to it all day.”

His flattery hasn’t stopped. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think the two glasses of wine he had with dinner were going to his head. But, he speaks so assuredly and looks in your eyes like you’re truly something special.

Feeling so intimately connected with someone you barely know might be absurd. Yet, you can’t help but feel drawn to him. If you’re being honest, the attraction started long ago, and tonight has just made it blossom into something so much more.

Yoongi has been the perfect gentleman. He’s not tried to railroad the conversation or make decisions for you like other guys you’ve gone on dates with. Whenever a server approached the table, he would defer to you and your needs before his.

“You’ve been so wonderful to me tonight. Please let me repay you with coffee and dessert. If you’re up for it.”

Yoongi squeezes both your hands before letting them go and sitting back in his chair. “There is no need to ‘repay’ me,” he says, emphasizing the word repay. “But, I wouldn’t say no to a date after this date, say in fifteen minutes, coffee and dessert?”

“Fifteen minutes? Coffee and dessert?” You give him a thoughtful look, tapping your fingers against your chin. “Hmm. I think I’m available.” You both break into more fits of soft laughter, contrasting so highly to the high energy from before; it’s intimate, if laughing can be such a thing.

It’s easy being with Yoongi; he’s attentive and curious. “What made you want to open a coffee shop?” he asks as you unlock the door to the cafe.

“I liked the idea of having a space that could cater to people from all walks of life. Businessmen in a hurry? Get it to go. Students needing a place to study? I have a quiet corner for that. College professor looking for his daily decaf Americao fix? Would you look at that? I got that covered, too.” You usher him inside, closing and locking the door behind you. “It also doubles as a great place to have a private coffee and dessert date after a lovely dinner date.”

You watch as Yoongi looks around the cozy space, his attention ending on the mural wall. “What’s your favorite kind of coffee?”

“Would it be weird if I said I don’t like coffee?” you ask.

He glances at you from over his shoulder. “Really?”

You shrug. “I love the way it smells, though.”

“Acrylic?” Yoongi asks, nodding toward the mural.

“Good eye,” you assess, stepping behind the counter to start making the coffee. You grab two pecan cinnamon twirls from the dry storage where you keep extra treats to take up to your apartment at the end of each shift and pop them into the small convection oven along the back wall. “You teach art, but it might be presumptuous of me to assume you also create. So, do you?”

“Not nearly as much as I’d like to. Pastels and charcoal are my favorites to work with. I like the mildly messy, chaotic feel of them. There are few things better than the feeling of taking something so uncontrolled and turning it into a thing of beauty.”

“Charcoal, huh?” Your mind instantly goes to the framed collection of pieces you have in your apartment upstairs. “I can appreciate that.”

“Maybe I can show you sometime.” Yoongi turns from his appreciation of your mural to watch you work behind the counter. He gestures to a few frames hung up on either side of the giant menu on the wall. “Arfé, right?”

You glance up, moving with automated motions to load the portafilter into the espresso machine. “Oh,” you laugh. “Yeah. An experiment. I wanted to try something new and needed some new decor. I thought it was appropriately on theme.”

The half-dozen pieces are all made with swirls of various shades in brown and tan and depict a mix of cups, mugs, bags of grinds, lumps of sugar, and piles of roasted coffee beans.

“Very appropriate. They’re lovely. You’re an exceptional artist.” You’ve lost count of the amount of compliments Yoongi has paid you tonight. You might have been the one flattering him this morning, but it seems he’s making up for that now.

“Thank you. Truly. That means a lot coming from you.” The hiss of the brew machine fills the air, and the soft gurgle of espresso trickling into the small mug follows. “One decaf Americano for one of my best customers,” you say, carefully carrying the steaming cup over to a table beside Yoongi. “Please, sit.”

Yoongi settles at the table, bringing the cup of coffee up to his nose and giving it an appreciative sniff. “Wonderful,” he murmurs before taking a tentative sip. “Thank you, that hits the spot.”

“If you think the Americano is good, wait until you try this,” you say, scooping the twirls out of the oven and onto a plate. They’re perfectly warm and gooey. “You’ve never tried any of our pastries, have you?”

You sit across from him. The table is small enough that you could reach out and cup his cheek if you wanted, and set the plate on the table before Yoongi. He whistles low, “Wow, these do look amazing. Maybe I’ll become a pecan twirl and coffee guy every morning instead.”

Your eyes track his movements, watching as his fingers pinch and slightly sink into the edges of one of the twirls. Some of the warm glaze and cinnamon sugar filling squishes from between the layers.

Yoongi’s lips part and the tip of his tongue peaks over his bottom teeth as he brings the pastry up to take a bite. The moan he lets out surprises you both. His eyes flutter before landing on you and going wide. He chews methodically, his gaze not leaving yours. His tongue darts out, swiping over his lips before he swallows.

“Well?” you ask, settling your elbows on the table and leaning into him, expectant.

The smile that tugs at his lips is coy. “Might be one of the best things I’ve ever put in my mouth.” There is a heat in his gaze as his eyes search yours. “What other surprises do you have up your proverbial sleeve for me?”

“Now, if I told you, they wouldn’t be surprises anymore, would they?”

That makes him laugh. “Fair point. You know,” he glances around the coffee shop, “I never knew just what it was about this coffee shop I loved so much, but I think I’ve figured it out.”

“Yeah?” you say, feeling positively giddy.

“Mhm. So,” he mirrors your pose across the table, his elbows nearly touching your own, fingers toying with yours where they’re folded in the air in front of your face, “is it too soon to ask you on a second date?”

“I thought this was our second date.” You raise a teasing eyebrow, a smile quirking on your lips.

“A third then,” he offers, eyes hopeful.

Of course, you want to say yes. And in the spirit of trying to be coy and playful, you lean in with the full intent of showing him instead of telling him how much you want to go on another date.

Yoongi’s eyes flicker to your lips, watching as you deliberately lick them as you lean in a bit closer. Acceptance lies within their dark depths, a flash of hunger at the impending response that’s only a breath away.

As you advance, your elbows slide on the table, accidentally knocking the coffee cup. Liquid goes everywhere; it floods over the table and pours off the side…right into Yoongi’s lap.

“Oh fuck!” you yell, jumping up from the table and rushing around to his side. “I’m so sorry! Are you okay? Do I need to call an ambulance? Does it burn?”

Yoongi pushes back from the table, holding his arms up off his lap as he assesses the mess. “No harm done. It was already cooled off. It's just a bit of a mess, that’s all. I’m fine,” he laughs. “Truly, I promise. Do you have any towels or anything?”

“Oh god, your shirt, it’s going to stain,” you lament, staring at the dark splotch soaking through above his trousers. “Towels? Yes. Yes. Okay. And some baking soda. Come on, let’s hurry. Again, I’m so sorry!”

“Should we clean this up first?” he asks, motioning at the coffee-covered floor.

“I can mop in the morning. Please,” you fret, guilt making you a bit frantic and flustered.

Yoongi lets you lead him up the stairs in the back that go to your apartment. “You live here?” he questions. “No wonder you were coming out of the coffee shop earlier. That’s very cool.”

You make a noncommittal sound. “It’s cool if you like the smell of coffee and don’t mind rising early every day to open shop.”

It’s so hard to think right now, your mind solely focused on cleaning up the mess you’ve made of Yoongi’s clothes. That’s what you get for trying to be sly and answer his date question with a kiss. You’ll be lucky if he still wants that date now, surely.

The bathroom is barely big enough for the two of you. You insist Yoongi sit on the lip of the tub while you dig under the sink for the baking soda that you use for cleaning and removing your own coffee stains.

“Hey,” Yoongi says softly, grabbing your attention. You glance at him over your shoulder, bottom lip clamped between your teeth in an effort not to fall apart entirely. “I promise it’s okay, alright? You don’t have to stress over it. It’s just an accident. It's a pretty funny one if you ask me. If I’d have known we were getting wet on the first—I mean, second date, I would have planned accordingly.”

His words hang between you, full of static and charged with intention. He’s trying to lighten the mood…and it’s working. It’s also making you feel a certain kind of way. Words shouldn’t have the power to do that. Yet, here you are, flustered for a whole different reason now.

“Date’s not over yet,” you respond, unsure where the bold attitude came from, but you’ll take it. His eyes flicker with something like surprise mixed with desire, though it’s gone before you can really be sure. “Do you mind?” You gesture to his shirt. “It’ll be easier if I can soak it in the sink.”

Slowly, Yoongi undoes the buttons on his shirt, starting at the top and working his way down. Somehow, you weren’t expecting him to be naked underneath, but every open button reveals another swath of flesh. He shrugs out of the shirt, revealing a toned chest and taut belly. His nipples are hard, dark chips, standing out in contrast to his smooth, creamy skin. Yoongi is absolutely breathtaking.

In fact, you have to remind yourself to breathe, taking in a large lungful of air that’s so much it makes your chest ache. He holds the shirt out to you in offering. Your fingers tremble lightly as you take it, quickly turning back to the sink and the distraction of scrubbing at the stain.

Reading over the garment tag quickly, you make sure what you’re about to do is okay. You can feel Yoongi’s eyes on your back, like heated dagger points pricking beneath your skin. You turn on the water, letting the tap run until it’s hot, before quickly swishing the area of the shirt covered in coffee under it. The hot water alone makes a world of difference, the dark liquid swirling away down the drain.

“Do you want my pants, too?” Yoongi asks, startling you.

Your eyes flick up to the mirror, looking at him through the reflection. He’s talking to you, but his attention is zeroed in on your backside. Suddenly, you’re intimately aware that your dress has ridden up dangerously high. You can feel the cool air of the bathroom kissing the crease between your thigh and asscheek.

Turning off the water, you slowly turn to face him. Your chest rises and falls as you try to take deep, even breaths, but with the way your heart is revving inside, it’s impossible to do so. “Let’s see the damage,” you say lightly, raising an eyebrow in question, giving him a chance to call you off.

When he doesn’t comment further, you close the distance to where he’s sitting and ease down onto your knees. You mentally tell yourself it’s so you can get a better look at the coffee that’s saturating the dark fabric, but you know better than that.

Being so close to him, you can feel the heat of his body. His chest rises and falls as rapidly as yours, and when you look up and meet his gaze, there is no mistaking the fire that you see blazing there. “Don’t think I forgot you still haven’t answered my question,” he murmurs, lips barely moving as he watches you.

You lift a hand, hooking your index finger under his chin and using it to angle his face toward yours. “I’d love that,” you respond, your lips brushing over his with every syllable.

He kisses you. Or maybe you kiss him. It’ll be something you tease each other over for many years to come. You open yourself to him, welcoming the glide of his tongue against yours. The kiss tastes mildly of coffee, yet for the first time in your life, you don’t mind the flavor.

“For me to take my pants off, or the date?” he teases, alternating between nipping and consuming kisses. Yoongi’s hands frame your face, holding you to him as he continues to ravage your mouth.

“Mm, both,” you manage to get out. “Definitely both.” Sliding your hands down his torso, you marvel at the softness of his skin and the already very prominent bulge that your fingers dance over as you try to get a grip on the button to his slacks.

Yoongi breaks away from the kiss long enough to help you with his pants, standing up from the edge of the tub and bringing you up with him. He toes off his shoes, leaving his pants puddled on top of them. “Good answer,” he chuckles.

You let out a tiny squeal as he wraps his hands around the backs of your thighs and hauls you up, your legs automatically winding around his waist. Thick erection pressed right against your panty-covered pussy, he slowly walks you out of the bathroom and into your adjoining room. You land on the bed with a soft oomph, Yoongi following you down. His weight is a comfort, settled over your body in a warm, hedonistic embrace.

“I’ll change classes,” you pant, flexing your hips against his. “As long as our next date is to an art gallery.”

“Is it weird for that to turn me on?” he responds, groaning as you roll your hips against him again. “The art part, not the dropping classes part. You don’t have to do that if it’s too much trouble. I know your schedule must be pretty set with the cafe.”

You press your hands against his chest, giving him a gentle push until he’s rolling over and you’re hovering over him. “I’ll make it work. I want to make it work. Everything tonight,” you pause and sit back on your heels, dragging your hands along his torso as you do, “I want more. You’re driving me crazy in the best of ways.”

“Says the woman who’s been running through my thoughts for the last several months now.” Yoongi’s lips part in a gasp, turning his last word into a breathly plea as you trace the tips of your fingers over his straining erection. The fabric of his grey boxer briefs is slightly sticky when you brush your thumb over the head.

“It reminds me of making art,” you casually say, curling your fingers over the waistband of his underwear and tugging until he lifts his hips and lets you drag them down. You toss them to the side, marveling at the glory now resting against his belly. Yoongi’s cock is a gentle upward curve, all smooth steel and thick veins. It throbs, bouncing against his stomach, leaving behind a thick smear of precum. “The way you make me feel.”

“Art?” he asks, breathless. His eyes flutter behind his glasses, his chest hollowing as he sucks in ragged breaths.

“Being with you gives me the same feeling as viewing a Duncanson or a Matisse, calm and full of joy. Though, you can also make me feel the chaos of a Kandinsky when you touch me.” To emphasize your words, you wrap your fingers around his girth, angling it up, watching the emotions on his face. The tip of his tongue works at the corner of his mouth, lips parted with every pant and soft moan. “Is this okay?” you ask, leaning down and gently blowing over the leaking tip before tentatively giving it a kitten lick.

“More than,” Yoongi moans. His eye slide closed as you wrap your lips around the head and suck. The flavor of him bursts across your tongue. You can’t help but moan yourself at the idea you’ve made him like this, hard and leaking.

Working as much of his cock into your mouth as you can, you delight in the shuddering convulses you can feel from his body as he loses himself in the sensations you’re bringing him. Yoongi always seems like such a collected individual. He still appeared so well-kept even when he stuttered over his words asking you on the date this morning. Now, though, he’s unraveling into a puddle of debauchery.

It’s a satisfying feeling, similar to when you get into a perfect rhythm when working on a project, bringing him to the edge. You work your mouth and hand in tandem, never leaving an inch of his cock free of your touch.

“Mmm,” you moan, the head of his cock resting in the back of your throat. Yoongi jerks under you, half raising onto his elbows, his eyes zeroing in on where you’re wrapped around him.

His fingers twist into the duvet, bottom lip puffy and flushed as he worries it with his teeth. “I’m going to cum,” he grunts, throwing his head back and moaning his pleasures, deep and throaty.

You quicken your pace, hollowing your cheeks as you suck in earnest. Yoongi cries out a second before liquid warmth floods your mouth. It’s greedy, the way you swallow and continue to lave your tongue over him, eliciting tiny tremors and more moans.

“Just like art,” you whisper, finally letting his cock slip from between your lips. You’re riding your own high, wet and throbbing between your thighs. You can feel the ache in your clit, begging to be touched. All it would take is a few seconds, a few well-placed swirls of your fingers, and you know you’d be floating in orgasmic bliss.

Before you can even think of bringing your hand between your thighs to find relief, Yoongi is sitting up and urging you backward. Your back hits the mattress, and he settles on his side beside you. Somewhere between there and here, he pulled off his glasses. Despite having just found his release, his eyes are still so full of hunger and desire.

“May I?” he asks, pressing a hand against your inner thigh. You nod, eyes locked with his as he slowly trails his hand upward until his fingers brush over the soaked fabric of your panties. “You are so beautiful,” he whispers, leaning in to capture your mouth in a languid kiss. Your lids flutter closed, consumed as you are by his touch.

Yoongi takes his time, toying with the edge of your panties before tugging them down past your knees. They pool around your ankles as he pushes your thighs apart, exposing your weeping pussy to the air of the bedroom.

“Yoongi.” His name is half moan, half curse as he brings his hand back up and cups your heat. The meat of his palm rests against your clit, right where you need to be touched, but the pressure isn’t enough to satisfy.

“An exquisite work of art.” His lips strum against yours, plucking and teasing just the way his fingers do through your wetness. The tips of his fingers briefly kiss your clit, dancing away before returning; a slow build of decadent pleasure.

It’s not above you to beg. “Please. Yoongi, please!”

“Open your eyes, look at me. Let me watch you fall apart so I can brand it into my memory.”

You snap open your eyes the exact moment he slides two slender fingers into your pussy, thumb finally giving the needed pressure to your clit. You’re so worked up that your body pulses around the intrusion, a tiny fluttering orgasm rippling through you.

“Fuck,” you whimper.

Yoongi gives you a wicked, knowing smile. “It’s not over yet, beautiful,” he assures you in a whispered promise.

His fingers are long, able to reach the perfect, special place inside you. As he strokes his fingertips, moving them in an undulating wave, his thumb swirls in a circle around your clit.

The next orgasm is less surprising, building to a heightened peak that has you crying out as you careen over the edge, entirely at Yoongi’s mercy. “Yoongi, fuck!” you babble, your whole body alive with sensations of pleasure.

“That’s it,” he coaxes. “So beautiful.”

Your body shudders around his hand, his fingers slowing down their rhythm until you finally recover. The slide of his fingers along your walls as he withdraws makes you wish he’d put them back in…or maybe something else. The bereft feeling lasts only a moment before Yoongi gathers you into his arms. He’s completely naked, and you’re still wearing your dress, but you feel just as exposed as he is…only, it’s your soul on display for him instead of your body.

You wait for the feeling of vulnerability to filter in, that broken feeling of uncertainty. But, it doesn’t come. The only thing you feel is complete and utter content. It’s not even the post-orgasmic bliss that’s clouding it, either. No, there’s plenty of that, but it feels different; he feels different.

“Yoongi,” you begin, resting your cheek on his chest. You want to confess to him, but the words get choked in your throat. Is it too soon? Are you completely crazy? What if he doesn’t feel the same way? Fuck. Here goes nothing. “This feels good, really good. Is it too soon to say…?”

“Too soon to say?” he prompts.

You absently trace haphazard swirls and lines across his chest, trying to think of how to word it. “I, well…”

“Too soon to say that I think possibly, maybe, I’m falling for you?” You look up at him, surprised by his words. Yoongi looks at you with so much warmth and affection in his eyes. “Because that’s exactly how I feel, too.”

◅ Back to Main Master List ©️   2023-12-30 ColorMePurplex2

[kyoshithewriter]

The Missing Piece. (Part one)

Summary: In which a nanny brings a family back together.

Warnings: There will be angst, family struggles, mentions of depression, smut (18+)

A/n: And we know I love a good cliche and I couldn’t pass up this opportunity to write about this absolute DILF loool. I don’t intend to make this a lengthy series but let’s see where this goes. Enjoy.

“Single divorced dad needs a nanny. Competitive salary. If interested, call the number below.

************”

Simple. Straight to the point. Niamh eyes the ad in the paper torn between suspicion and hopeful optimism. There’s finally an advertisement for a job that does not require a completed degree or at least five years of experience. But it just seems so sketchy; like a trap by a lonely, old man to chain some poor, desperate person in their basement. It wouldn’t hurt to at least call, right?’ Her eyes drift over to the “past due” sign that her landlord had hung on her front door in a petty attempt to publicly embarrass her. Niamh has been out of work for a little over two months now; the small coffee shop a few minutes away having to let her go regrettably due to how slow business was. Even with the job, it was a struggle to make ends meet; the meager salary barely covered rent, food and her university expenses. Some days she would have to be satisfied with only eating once and be grateful for it. But life has been showing her recently that things can always get worse. Niamh has hit lower than rock bottom. She’s close to being evicted and dropping out of school to roam the streets of Cheshire aimlessly. With that thought, she sucks in a deep breath then empties her lungs completely before dialing the number. Niamh stands to pace in her small, cramped apartment as the line keeps ringing.

A deep, honeyed voice cuts in on the fourth ring;

“Hello.”

Niamh runs into the small coffee table out of surprise. She squeezes her eyes shut, taking a deep breath so she doesn’t curse out loud.

“Um, hi. I um… I saw an ad for a nanny?” The words sound like they were squeezed from her body. She clears her throat to compose herself.

“Oh, yes!” The person on the other end sounds like a kid in a candy store.

“When can you come in for an interview?”

“I’m available on weekdays after 2 pm and free all weekend.”

“So 2:30 tomorrow is fine, right? Sorry if it’s rushed but we’re desperate.” The person admits almost bashfully.

“I understand and yes, 2:30 tomorrow works.” Niamh tries to squash the hope blossoming in her chest.

“Good! I’ll text you the address. I look forward to meeting you… what was your name again?”

“Niamh.” She quickly supplies.

“Niamh, I’m Ivy. I’ll text you that address now. Talk soon.”

The woman hangs up as soon as she mutters a shy goodbye. A notification comes in a minute later- a message with the address. Niamh’s breath hitches; she recognizes it as the wealthiest part of town. Only actual celebrities and CEOs can afford to live there. She tries to physically shake the intimidation that threatens to creep in. But as the evening progresses, her chest gets tighter, her breaths are faster and her legs become more restless.

************

The autumn wind picks up and Niamh fears she might actually pass out in the middle of the almost abandoned street. Anxiety is already rattling her to her very bones and the cold doesn’t help. Even just existing in a place like this feels odd. The huge gated community is filled with modern- looking mansions with a variety of luxury cars visible in the front yards or opened garage doors. She cuddles further into her knitted, yellow sweater, trying her best to keep her eyes forward in fear of raising suspicion. For all she knows she may still be walking into a trap; they could possibly lock her away in their basement or harvest her organs or something. ‘At least no one will miss you,’ the nagging voice that she fights hard to blot out whispers in her head. Niamh had put a face to her intrusive thoughts— she imagines it’s a shadow with blood, red slanted eyes and a sinister grin. Some days it’s easy to ignore the monster lurking in the deepest crevice of her mind, waiting for a moment of vulnerability to wreak havoc. On other days, like today with her anxiety already sky high, it wins just long enough to remind her that her entire existence feels pathetic: just an estranged family and no real friends; struggling financially, mentally and even socially. She needs a break. Staring at her phone, Niamh realizes she has apparently reached her destination. The house looks three stories high; the outside is made up of grey bricks with black accents around the roof and windows. The garage doors are also a cool, matte black. The lawn is well kept with a smattering of brown and orange leaves from the small tree out front. Niamh closes her gaping mouth to inhale a greedy breath before walking up to the porch. The door is swung open just as she raises a fist to knock. There stands an older woman, about 5”2, plump and dark skinned with thick locs piled high on top of her head inside a tye-dye head wrap. She beams up at Niamh’s 5”6 frame, showing off the small gap between her front teeth. Niamh has never met this woman, yet she already feels like she’d trust her with her life.

“You must be Niamh, I’m Ivy. Come on in, sweet child.”

Niamh returns her smile easily as she steps into the foyer of the grand house. The inside is painted a cool shade of white with wooden accents to match the floor and stairs.

“You have a beautiful home.” She doesn’t even attempt to hide that she’s awestruck.

“It is beautiful, but not mine, unfortunately. I’m just a cook here. Look…”

Ivy trails off. Niamh can physically see the wheels in her head turning as she stares past her shoulders. Contemplating.

“Let’s have a seat in the kitchen. I just baked the fudgiest brownie for the kids, I’ll slip you a piece while we talk.” Ivy grasps one of her hands gently and leads to her left down a short hallway until they enter the spacious, modern kitchen. The woman gestures toward one of the wooden stools around the island and Niamh obediently takes a seat.

“Look, this… job opportunity was borne out of an unfortunate situation. The… man of the house, he got divorced a few months ago. He’s a very wealthy, important man. An athlete. The separation was already heavy but it was easy for him to feign normalcy because he was still doing what he loves— playing football.” Ivy pauses to swallow as she dishes a thick slice of brownie on a small, white porcelain saucer. She walks back in her direction and carefully places it down in front of Niamh with a small fork. Ivy turns to the stainless steel, double door fridge to retrieve a bottle of water and places it before her too.

“Thank you.” She whispers gratefully— the tuna sandwich she had for breakfast already feeling like a distant memory.

“You’re welcome, dear.”

Ivy’s smile is content as she watches her eat; like the mere action brings her joy.

“Anyway, two months ago he got injured. A bad one; he tore his ACL and is set to be sidelined for almost a year. It has been… yea. He’s almost like a ghost in this house. He stays locked away in his room or office and only slips through the backdoor early in the mornings when he has to attend his rehabilitation sessions. He doesn’t even spend time with the children anymore.” Ivy sighs heavily and suddenly, Niamh is aware of every wrinkle on her face.

“I had to take up the responsibility of being their nanny and the cook recently. And he compensates me well, don’t get me wrong— but I also have grandchildren of my own who I solely care for because my daughter is studying abroad. I can’t spend all my time here when they need me. It’s too much. So I finally got him to agree to search for a nanny.”

Niamh licks at the chocolate on her lips as she processes the information. Whoever this man is, her heart aches for him and his children as well.

“So what about their mother? Is she just not in the picture anymore at all?”

“She is, but she moved back home to the Netherlands; they’re both Dutch. They thought it best to not just uproot the children from their lives here— they attend school, all their extracurricular activities, it’s all here. They do visit on breaks but they adore their father, they all wish to stay with him. It’s nothing short of heartbreaking to see them longing for him recently. They miss him and he’s… just upstairs.” The frown on the woman’s mouth deepens.

“Well I, I hope I can help— if I get the job of course!” Heat burns beneath the surface of her brown skin.

“Speaking of! I’m sure you brought your qualifications along, yes?”

“Uh, yea. Of course.” Niamh slides the large envelope that’s now a bit wrinkled from how tightly she was clutching it on her journey to the house.

Ivy reaches for it and begins scanning the papers quickly with her eyes.

“Third year nursing student with excellent grades, so you’ll know how to react in case of health emergencies and you can do CPR, correct?”

Niamh nods her head quickly. “That’s correct.”

“Experience working at the library and cafés. Do you have any experience with children?”

“I um-” Niamh hesitates, wondering if opening that can of worms is worth the job. One thought of her empty fridge in her soon to be ‘kicked out of apartment’ is enough to answer the question.

“I grew up in the foster system and I would always be tasked to take care of the younger ones. The last family that had me until I was 18 still calls me to babysit for them a few times. So yes, I have experience with taking care of children, especially ages 3-11.” Niamh wrings her hands in her lap.

Ivy rounds the island and hugs her into her ample bosom, patting at her big mass of black curls.

“You’re hired, you sweet little thing.”

Niamh swallows around the lump in her throat, urging herself to not cry as she melts in Ivy’s embrace.

“Thank you.”

Ivy takes a minute just to hold her and Niamh enjoys every second; she was never offered a lot of affection growing up.

The woman gingerly releases her hold on her and steps back a bit.

“Oh, um. A part of the job description will require you to sleep over three nights a week: Mondays, Thursdays and Fridays. Shelly, the eldest of the three, has really early swimming lessons on Tuesdays, Fridays and Saturdays so you’ll need to be up to help her get ready. I had to be waking up at 4:30am to get here on time and I’m old and need sleep. That won’t do.”

Niamh can’t help but laugh but she nods easily. Who wouldn’t want to sleep in a house like this?

“The kids: Shelly, Aurora and Mason are 9, 7 and 5 respectively. They’re usually dropped off by their driver at 4:30 pm in the afternoons. Shelly, on the days I told you she has synchronized swimming lessons, is picked up at 6 am sharp. On the other days it’s 7:30 am like the other two. I’ll give you the contact information of their driver later. They have no major food allergies, but Mason gets mild headaches after having dairy sometimes. I meal prep their breakfast in the evenings but you know how kids are; sometimes they’ll just want something else so you may have to make breakfast some mornings you’re here after sleeping over but I promise that’s all the cooking you’ll do here. We’re not looking to burden you.”

“It’s okay. I understand.”

“Your main duties will be helping with homework, getting them ready for school or any extracurricular activities, accompanying them to appointments, helping the younger ones with the bathroom if they aren’t feeling particularly independent on some days, reminding them to brush their teeth, do the girls’ hair, putting them to bed and just making them feel… cared for. They need it.”

Niamh’s heart feels a bit heavy but she nods.

“Good. Their bedtime is 8 pm sharp, and yes, that includes Shelly; no matter what she tries to tell you. On the days you aren’t sleeping over, after you‘ve put them to bed just give a firm knock on his bedroom door and yell that you’re on your way out. He’ll… handle the rest throughout the night. He has cameras everywhere, except the bathrooms and bedrooms— so he’s always quietly observing. He loves them and their safety is his number one priority. He's just… going through a lot right now.”

Ivy picks up the now empty plate and carries it over to the sink.

“Is he here now?” Niamh fights the urge to scan the room for cameras as she whispers the question to Ivy.

“No. I only know because his favourite car is missing from the garage. But on some days his driver takes him and you’ll be left wondering. You never really know.”

The few minutes of silence as Ivy washes up a few dishes in the sink gives her some time to think. This comes with a lot of responsibility; the children could be a handful, they could also simply not like her. What if even their father disapproves?

“Um, is it okay if I asked what his name is?” Niamh asks shyly.

“Oh yes. Virgil. Virgil van dijk. I don’t know how familiar you are with football but he’s very well known.”

And the name does sound familiar even though she really doesn’t follow the sport that closely. She can’t place a face to it though but that’s nothing a little google search can’t fix.

“I’ve heard the name before but I don’t follow the sport closely.” She admits bashfully.

“No worries, Niamh. Hopefully, he’ll start coming around again for you to properly meet him. He’s a lovely man.”

Niamh returns her small smile as she untwists the cap on the bottle.

“I should also stress the importance of privacy, Niamh. He valued his privacy even when things were going well. He doesn’t force his family into the spotlight and keeps a lot of himself hidden. Now, it’s even worse. I beg you don’t betray his trust and bring anything that happens under this roof to anyone outside. Not even your friends.” Ivy warns.

Niamh wants to assure the woman that she doesn’t even have friends, instead, she responds.

“I swear I won’t.” She hopes Ivy hears the sincerity and solemnity in her voice. The woman must be convinced because she nods and offers a small smile.

“Oh! In terms of salary; it’s five days a week, the starting rate is £1,000 a day, £1,500 for the days you spend the night. That may increase over time based on your performance and the children’s feelings toward you.”

Niamh chokes on the cool water sliding down her throat, sputtering all over herself and the kitchen island.

Ivy rushes to her side, soapy hands slapping at her back.

“Are you okay?!” The woman’s voice is a little panicked.

Niamh, teary eyed, offers the woman a nod as her brain takes it time to start functioning again.

“I just- never expec— a lot of money.” She finishes simply through her wheezing.

Ivy exhales a relieved breath before laughing softly.

“I said the salary was competitive in that ad, didn’t I? Makes me wonder why you were the only caller.” Ivy wonders with a frown.

“I mean, it did seem a little sketchy. Barely any details as well.”

“Hm. You’re right. Oh well, it led you here and I already have a good feeling about you. Come, let me give you a tour of the house.”

**********

The house has six bedrooms total— one Virgil had turned into his office. Each bedroom, except the ones belonging to the two younger kids, has an en-suite bathroom; the little ones both share the bathroom in the hallway across from them.

“Their schedules are printed out and hung in their rooms. Oh! And the house maid comes in on Sundays, Wednesdays and Fridays to clean and do laundry.”

Niamh nods, trying to soak up all the information like a sponge.

“Now this is the guest bedroom.” Ivy opens the first door on the east wing of the house. The inside is spacious and sparsely decorated; just a queen size bed with lavender sheets, a vanity and an empty walk in closet. She follows Ivy who steps further into the room and opens the door to their right to the clean en-suite bathroom.

“This house is lovely.” Niamh is sure she has said it at least twenty times already but she’s still mesmerized by it.

“It truly is.”

They both exit the room, but Ivy pauses in the hallway.

Two mahogany doors face each other on opposite sides of the hallway further down.

“And this is where your tour ends. Those doors are off limits.”

She immediately knows that they’re his bedroom and office space. ‘Why does an athlete need an office space, anyway?’ Niamh bites her lip to contain the question that’s burning at the tip of her tongue.

“You knock on the door to your left only for emergencies; so when you’re leaving work like we discussed or if something is terribly wrong with one of the kids. Though, he’d probably know by the time you got here.”

Right. The cameras. “Silently observing.”

A shiver races up her spine at the thought of always being under his scrutiny. Niamh stares at the doors that seem to be more intimidating than the many others in the house even though they all look the same.

“So, any questions?”

Ivy’s voice brings her focus back to the shorter woman who grins up at her.

“Um, not right now.”

“Good! I’m going to get started on dinner. Make yourself comfortable in the living room until the children get here. You’ll officially start tomorrow but it wouldn’t hurt to meet them.”

Niamh nods but her heart immediately starts racing as if she got shot up with a high dose of adrenaline. If for whatever reason they don’t like her, she can kiss this job that she so desperately needs goodbye. Niamh tries and fails to swallow around the fist- sized lump in her throat. Who knew that children could be intimidating?

[cowgurrrl]

You're My Only Hope for Heaven

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Author's note: oh bitch I'm having a fucking blast with this dynamic the slow burn is slow burning

Summary: An unlikely patron saunters into your bar [3.5k]

Warnings: one (1) creepy guy, one (1) fake marriage, lots of flirting that’s not flirting but it’s not not flirting, one (1) kiss

You try not to make it a habit of picking up bar shifts during the week. Not only is it almost always slow, and you barely make any money, but it's hard to go from teaching for eight hours directly to another job. You'd much rather be at home, grading or doing something for yourself for the first time in weeks. But you couldn't say no when Katie called you, almost in tears, begging you to take her shift so she could deal with a burst pipe in her house. You don't regret doing her a favor, but you do regret other things as you stand behind the mostly empty bar as whatever game is happening plays on the screen above your head. You think it's a UT game. Or maybe A&M. Or any of the other SEC Texas schools with an absurd football budget. 

You're basically yawning your way through your shift and working through your newest painting in your head, trying and failing to not think about school until absolutely necessary. Principal Martinez is cracking down on the stupid minutiae the school board demands of its teachers, and you spent most of your afternoon writing student objectives on the board. On top of that, your art club kids have been begging you to plan a field trip to the local art museum for weeks. You finally relented, but the paperwork is mind-numbing and requires much more work than you thought. Between working, making art, and trying to live your life, you barely have time. 

Another reason you hate working weekdays is the creepy regulars. Normally, you can ignore them on a busy Saturday night, but it's harder when it's as dead as it is. You have no idea how Katie deals with them on a regular basis. It started with a guy at the bar, you think his name is Steve, asking you progressively invasive questions. "How old are you?" "You gotta boyfriend?" "What time do you get off?" One right after each other, even after you made it clear you're not interested. Fake laughing and making excuses to run to the back or change a keg don't throw him off. 

"Keep it up, and I'll cut you off." You finally threaten after he asks you why you're being a bitch. You roll your eyes when the bell above the door rings, probably admitting yet another asshole who's gonna make your night hell. When you turn toward the door, the words leave you before you can stop them. "You've gotta be fucking kidding me."

"Now, is that any way to greet your customers?" Joel chuckles, and you sigh as he sits down in front of you. Thankfully, his brother is not in tow, and you can save yourself a little embarrassment. "I didn't know you worked here."

"I don't," you say. "Whatcha drinkin'?" 

"Looks like you're workin' to me." He smirks and you shoot him a look.

"You wanna free drink or not?" 

"Shiner," he answers quickly. You hum in acknowledgment, not even bothering with the POS system and going right to the fridge to pull a bottle out for him. You pop the cap off and place a napkin under the beer before sliding it to him. "Are you bribin' me?"

"You've gotta be faster with your questions, Miller. You've already accepted it. Might as well enjoy." You say, and he laughs. 

"Well, alright, then," he says, raising his beer to you before taking a quick sip. "So, what's this, then? You moonlightin' as a bartender?" He asks, and you fight yourself on how to answer. What if word gets back to parents? Administration? They couldn't reprimand you for that, right? You know plenty of other teachers with second jobs, so it can't be that taboo. Still, you're hesitant to open up to Joel. Out of all the people who could've walked into your bar tonight, it had to be him.

"Something like that." You settle on, wiping a sticky spot on the bar to avoid his gaze. If he feels anything negative about you having a second job, his face doesn't show it. He has a soft smile on his lips and a slight sunburn across his nose, highlighting the freckles living there that previously went unnoticed. You want to tease him about not wearing sunscreen, but the joke dies in your throat when he rests his elbows on your bar, showing off those stupid biceps you can't not look at. He catches your eyes lingering near the short sleeve of his shirt and opens his mouth like he's going to say something, but a grating voice from the other side of the bar cuts him off.

"Excuse me, sweetheart! You've got other patrons over here!" Steve yells, and you feel your eye twitch at his attitude. Joel notices.

"What's wrong with him?" He asks quietly, leaning forward over the bar to get closer to you. Looking into his brown eyes and confused expression, an idea forms.

"Pretend you know me." You say, and his eyebrows knit together, every emotion visible on his face. 

"I do know you."

"No, I mean," you sigh. "That guy over there is a regular on Wednesdays, and the girl who usually works is married, so he doesn't try anything with her, but I won't give him my number, and he's making me fucking miserable. So, just... pretend to know me." Joel is bigger than Steve. Much bigger. Probably a whole head taller and much broader than the man on the other side of the bar. One word from Joel, and he might actually shut up or, better yet, leave altogether so you can finish your day without any more hiccups.

"Okay," Joel agrees, and you reflexively reach out to touch his thick forearm and squeeze. You don't even realize you did it until he smiles like he won a staring contest or something.

"Thank you," you say before turning and bracing yourself to deal with Steve. "What can I do for you, sir?" You ask, but before you can even finish your sentence, he holds up his empty beer bottle and waves it in front of your face like you're stupid. 

"Another beer." He says, and you bite your tongue. 

"You got it."

"Finally," he groans. "You'd think for such an easy fuckin' job, you'd be better at it." 

"What the fuck is your problem?" You ask, refusing to move from your spot to get him his beer, and he scoffs.

"My problem is that you're bein' a fuckin' bitch and ignorin' me when I didn't do nothin' wrong." He's slurring his words together at this point, and you wordlessly go to the POS system to close his tab and send him on his way. "Hey, I'm talkin' to you!" He yells after you.

"Hey, man, why don't you leave her alone? She's just tryna do her job." Joel speaks up from the other side of the bar, and Steve straightens up in his seat as he assesses Joel. 

"This isn't any of your fuckin' business. Stay out of it."

"It's my business now. That's no way to speak to a lady. I think you owe her a mighty big apology." 

"I don't owe her shit," he spits, and you look over to see Joel setting his jaw and squaring his shoulders. "Why's this even matter to you, big shot?"

"That's my fuckin' wife you're mouthin' off to," Joel says without hesitation, and you quickly school your expression. Wife? You asked him to play along, but you didn't think he'd say that. "So, if you wanna keep the rest of your teeth, I suggest you apologize to her, leave her a nice, big tip for dealin' with your sorry ass, and get yourself a ride home." 

Steve is silent as you take the empty bottle away from him— just in case things get really ugly— and slide him his card and bill. He eyes Joel carefully for a few tense seconds before picking up a pen, signing his check, and leaving without another word. The second he's out the door, you feel a weight lift off your shoulders and sigh at the relief. You scrub a hand down your face and look over at Joel.

"You okay?" He asks gently like you're a spooked horse, and you nod. You take a few minutes to get yourself together, putting in Steve's 30% tip and cleaning off the empty bar before returning to Joel. "What?" He asks when he catches you smirking.

"At least buy a girl dinner before you call me your wife." You say, and he laughs, shaking his head. 

"You said the other girl is married. I just took it and ran," he says. "And I already tried to take you to dinner, but somebody said no." 

"School regulation says it's unethical." 

"Well, we're not at school now, and you're certainly not a teacher right now." He says smoothly, vaguely gesturing to your all-black outfit, and you give him a look. "What time d'you get off?"

"You're gonna get me in trouble." You whisper, and he leans forward across the bar. 

"All I did was ask you a question." He whispers back, playfully mocking you. It could be the smile on his face, the relaxed humor behind his eyes, or the fact that he stood up for you because you asked him to, but you glance between him and the clock and take a deep breath. 

"I get off at 12. Unless it stays dead like this, then I'm closing early," you say, and his smile grows. "But this is not a date." 

"'Course not." He chuckles, and you raise your eyebrows at him. 

"I'm serious. I need you to say it's not a date, so I know you won't come after me if your kid fails my class." 

"Is my kid failing your class?"

"No, she's amazing. But for my own mental well-being, I need you to say that this is not a date." You say, and he grabs your wrist to stop your anxious wringing. 

"Let me buy you a drink. That's it. Nothin' more," he says, squeezing you. "This ain't a date." 

"Thank you." You sigh, and he nods. 

You spend an hour or two idling between conversations with Joel and trying to look busy for any manager who might care enough to check the cameras. You're pretty much done with all your closing duties by 10:00, and you wait until it's been a full hour since anyone else came in to flip the closed sign and do a few last-minute things. When the bar is completely clean, empty, and ready for the next shift, you slink back behind it to make yourself and Joel a drink before sitting beside him. 

"You feelin' proud of yourself for getting us here?" You ask as you clink your glass against his and take a sip. 

"Yeah, I've got the prettiest girl in the whole place sittin' by me," he says, and before you can even scold him, he throws his hands up. "Not a date." 

"Not a date." You repeat.

"Still true, though."

"Don't make me regret saying yes to you, Mr. Miller." You say, and he gives you a look. You like teasing him, especially since you can always see exactly how he's feeling. He's not particularly subtle, contrary to what you're sure others think about him. 

"How many times do I have to tell you to call me Joel?" 

"As many times as it takes, I guess," you shrug. "You also clearly have an aversion to being called Mr. Miller."

"My dad was Mr. Miller." He says, and you roll your eyes, groaning and half-folding in on yourself dramatically. 

"Oh, my God, do you know how many men have said that to me since I've become a teacher?"

"Well, it's true!" He says. "Are you sayin' other people are tryna tell my wife to call ‘em by their first names?" He asks, and you laugh. 

"Believe it or not, you're not the first single parent to ask me out." 

"Am I the first one you said yes to?" 

"So far." 

"So far?" He asks, raising his eyebrows, and you hum. "I'll take it." 

Unsurprisingly, Joel is really easy to talk to. He asks questions about your life outside of work, where you went to school, and what made you want to be a teacher. You ask him about his job and family and, somehow, end up talking about the latest cheesy action film he's seen. When both your drinks are empty, the glasses sit there, the ice slowly melting as you talk into the night. Every time a hint of anxiety creeps up your spine, he makes you laugh or tells you an interesting story from his past and distracts you from it. You lose hours sitting there, and you don't even realize it until your phone pings you with a reminder, and you suddenly see it's past midnight.

"Oh, shit," you mumble, showing Joel the time. "I gotta lock up."

"And you have school tomorrow." He says, and you groan as you stand and grab your glasses. 

"Don't remind me. I've got like five million things waiting to get done there." You say. He watches you step behind the bar, leave them in the sink for the opener to find, and no doubt send a catty message in the group chat asking who closed the night before. His eyes don't leave you even when you reach up and grab your bag, your sleeve falling down just enough to reveal a nasty bruise.

"Woah, that looks like it hurt," he says, gesturing to your arm. "How'd you get that?"

"Promise you won't laugh." Your response does nothing to clear up his confusion, but he raises his right hand and makes a cross over his heart.

"I promise." His tone is gentle and even, but you're still hesitant to actually admit it.

"I fell off a table." 

"I told you!"

"Hey!" You scold. "You promised you'd be cool about it!"

"I promised not to laugh." He says, and you roll your eyes. "They still haven't come to fix it for ya?"

"Would I be climbing on tables if they did?"

"Fair enough," he shrugs. You find the bar keys at the bottom of your purse and walk over to where he's still sitting, your hand resting on the back of your chair. He shifts forward until he can catch the edge of your sleeve and roll it up to see the bruise in all her glory. His fingers are warm, and his touch light as he traces the edge of it, not firm enough to make it ache but enough that you feel the pads of his fingers. You freeze like your stillness will be enough for the feather-light touches to continue, your eyes meeting for a split second. He clears his throat and rolls your sleeve back down for you, drawing his hand back. "Tell you what," he says. "I gotta buddy who gets me a good deal on some spare parts. Let me see if I can track down the part you need, and I'll come fix it myself. Free of charge."

"You don't have to do that." 

"And let my wife fall off tables?" He asks, a smirk pulling on his lips, and you shake your head. "It's the least I can do for the free drinks and, ya know, teachin' my kid." 

"Fine, but don't make it a thing. The maintenance people already don't like me. I can't imagine seeking outside help will make them like me." 

"I won't make it a thing," he promises, leaning back in his chair as his eyes travel up and down your body. He sighs heavily and sucks his teeth like you're suddenly too much, and you smile. "It's a damn shame this wasn't a date."

"What'd you do if it was?" The question borders on dangerous, but you can't take it back now that you've said it. It seems to have piqued Joel's interest, too, because he raises his eyebrows at you.

"You really wanna know?" He asks, and you nod.

"I really wanna know," you say. "How does Joel Miller end a successful date?" He gets a little bashful at the question, a blush creeping up his neck, and you knock his knee with yours to get his attention. "C'mon, don't get shy on me now."

"Alright, alright," he grumbles. "If this were a date, and we were gettin' ready to go out separate ways, I'd walk you out to your car, open the door for ya 'cause a lady should never open her own doors," his voice is slow and low, and he watches your face as he speaks. "And I'd kiss you. Nice and slow so I don't scare ya off or anythin'. I might put a hand on your waist or bite that pretty lip or somethin'. And right when I can feel you wantin' a little more, gettin' a little desperate, I'd stop, say goodnight, and walk back to my truck." His words have a devastating effect on you, and you can't look away from him. The heat rolling off him in waves makes you too warm and flustered. His gaze flicks from your eyes to your lips, his own tongue darting out to wet his plump bottom lip, and you have half a mind to think he's looking at you like he wants to eat you alive. You have half a mind to let him. 

"You're right," you finally breathe. "It's a shame this isn't a date." He nods and stands, his broad chest grazing yours as you look up at him. You're not a science teacher by any means. If you were, you might be able to explain the magnetism you feel toward Joel or what stupid chemical in your brain makes you wonder what tricks he keeps up his sleeve. But you're not. You're an art teacher. So, the only thing you can focus on is the deep brown of his irises and the heavy lashes and crow's feet that frame his eyes. And the swoop of his salt and pepper curls, the tint of his slightly pink forehead and strong nose. You want to capture his image in the dim lighting of the bar, but you settle for committing it to memory to scribble in the margins of your notebook for the rest of the week. Why couldn't you have been a science teacher?

Neither of you says anything as he finally steps away, giving you the space to turn off the last of the bar lights and push through the haze he created in your mind. He lingers by the door and opens it for you when you go to the front and step into the humid Austin night. You lock the doors and give him a small smile when you turn around to see him rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. 

Then, just as he said, he walks you to your car and opens the driver's side door for you. His truck, the only other car in the parking lot, is parked a few spaces away from yours. It would've been so much easier to just ignore you, get in his car, and drive away, but here he is, being the gentleman he's always been toward you. You step into the space created by the open door and throw your bag in the passenger seat, but don't get in the car. Not yet. He sighs heavily, like he's in physical pain, when you meet his eyes again, and his hand flexes around the edge of your car door. 

"Thanks for my not date." You mumble, and he nods. You're close (and weak) enough that brushing his lips would just take a strong breeze. It freaks you out how okay you are with the idea of "accidentally" kissing Joel Miller. You should be panicking. Alarm bells should be sounding in your head, but the only thing filling the cavernous space is the echo of his voice explaining what he'd do if this were a date. Idiot.

He leans on your door a little more, and your heart quickens, thinking he might actually be the one to make the move. His head ducks just a little, and you get a strong whiff of his cologne, your eyes fluttering shut at the scent. Your throat is suddenly dry, and you're all but pushing up on your toes when he swerves past your lips and presses a chaste, firm kiss to your cheek. His beard scratches your soft skin pleasantly, and you keep your eyes closed until he pulls away, looking like he just won a prize.

"Get home safe." He says as he steps back, still holding your door open. You sigh and fight a smile as you look at him— cocky, vindicated, and knowing exactly what he just did. 

"Goodnight, Joel." You manage to get out before sitting down and letting him gently shut the door for you. You wait until he gets in his truck to roll your window down and shout his name until he does the same. "I'm gonna get you back for that."

"Oh, I'm countin' on it, darlin'."

TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha @cosmoscoffeee @shyminnie07 @beezusvreeland @eddiemunsonsbedroom @harriedandharassed @doodlebob-mp3

[stayevildarling]

I know you've already done something similar, but I'm wondering if you can write a billie, delia, and mina fic with reader who gets attacked and ends up forgetting things like who her gfs are and where she is? Maybe you can add your own ideas to it if ur up to it? Thank you <33

Cordelia Goode x Wilhemina Venable x Billie Dean Howard x Reader- Closure

A/N: Hi there ❣️ I apologise for the delay with this on. I have been a bit sick and busy. This is really long but I couldn't make it any shorter.

tw: mention of blood, mention of doctors and hospitals, mention of amnesia, cursing, smoking, lots of angst

word count: 11k 😅

taglist:

@lunaticwhittaker, @billiebeanhoward, @lanawinters-ily, @kenzbro, @minaslittleone, @httpfiftyshadesofgay, @whitelotus00, @ninaahs, @vintagepaulson, @isle-of-earle, @paulsonsratched, @stepintomyworld, @grilledcheeseandguavajelly, @lucyintheskywithxanax, @fanfics4world, @mymiraclewitch, @hazard-to-myself, @awritersometime, @ohrwurm26, @wastdstime

It had been a normal day at the academy, a busy weekday really, the four of you going on about your days, Cordelia mostly in her office working on academy business, Wilhemina at work and returning a little while ago, you mostly teaching classes and spending your afternoon in the greenhouse, Billie equally at work. At last, you find yourself in the comfort of your girlfriends arms, the four of you snuggled up together by the fireplace, the tv running softly in the background, drawing out the outside noises from the busy streets, some laughter still coming from some of the witches rooms.

As you glance around you, you notice Delia sitting beside you, holding you closely as the two of you are snuggled in a blanket, Wilhemina sitting in her armchair, doing some knitting, her eyes occasionally glancing at you three, the view warming her heart and causing the ever so smallest smile to coat her features. A sudden movement startles you a little, Billie Dean disappearing into the darkness of the night again as she leaves for a smoke, this time unannounced and you can't help but notice how this must have been her third cigarette within twenty minutes, and equally Cordelia watches her leave, Wilhemina's brows furrowing as usually she announced her little smoking breaks.

And as you think about it a little further, you remember how agitated Billie seemed today, unusually quiet at dinner and not sharing any details about her day, like she usually would. And then it kinda dawns on you how fidgety she had been, how she had barely said any words and the revelation causes you to jolt in Cordelia's arms. Her brown eyes meet yours, concern washing over her, before she speaks softly ,,Sweetheart, are you okay?'' she asks, almost a little confused, noticing how tense you suddenly seem. ,,I'm worried about Billie'' you announce, ignoring the voice in your head telling you not to share your concern with them, not wanting to worry them in the process. Cordelia remains silent as she glances at Wilhemina, and as their eyes lock they share a silent understanding. Despite Cordelia being the supreme, you had an odd connection with the three women, somehow always noticing whenever something was wrong.

Cordelia had tried to solve that puzzle many times, whether it was simply your intuition, whether it was simply the love you share for them and how observant you are. However she had questioned how you almost always seem to get it right, always instantly by Wilhemina's side as your senses alerted you of her pains, always by Cordelia's side whenever some danger was looming over the usual safe walls of the academy, sometimes knowing before she did. And you often knew when something was bothering the medium too, when everything was getting a little much for her. And despite never solving the puzzle regarding your senses, she knows that you must be right, also having noticed how agitated, nervous and quiet Billie had been all evening.

And before too long, the medium returns, opting for the other armchair, despite her sitting beside Cordelia moments before, her loud mind causing her to not be focused, to forget already. ,,Billie honey?'' Cordelia tries softly, drawing the medium away from her thoughts. ,,Is everything okay darling?'' she tries, tilting her head a little as three sets of concerned eyes meet the mediums. And she hesitates then, playing with her acrylic nails as a nervous habit, her mouth opening before she physically stops herself, biting the words back. ,,Billie?'' Wilhemina tries now as concern washes over her as well, never having seen Billie like this despite the many battles the medium had thought over the years, including battles with the redhead but always coming out stronger in the end.

,,It's- it's nothing'' Billie tries but her attempt is pathetic as tears already swell in her eyes, Cordelia quick on her feet to kneel beside the medium, taking her shaking hands into her steady ones. ,,Darling, please, what is it?'' the supreme tries, her eyes pleading with her, grounding her and giving her safety to share whatever this was. ,,It's work'' she finally admits, sighing in the process as she lets a tear stream down her cheek. And as you glance at Wilhemina, your features filled with pain, you both know this was serious. Billie never spoke too much about her work, only the nice parts really, including the promo tours, the fun bits of it, never the hauntings, never the ghosts. The same hauntings, ghosts and spirits that often kept her awake at night, causing her to have terrible nightmares, and the three of you often shushing her back to sleep in the end.

,,It's really bad'' she admits, more to herself than either of you and Wilhemina slowly abandons her knitting supplies, you equally abandoning your spot on the comfortable sofa, before walking over to your girlfriend and placing the same blanket that had provided you warmth and safety to her now. ,,Tell us honey'' Cordelia instructs before Billie begins slowly filling you in. Telling you three about her worst gig yet, how despite having seen everything by now she couldn't crack this one, how there was some connection to witches. How she assumes they are satanic witches who are trapped here and haunting a family, how she has been scared to go to work for the past few days, as all her methods failed. You glance at Cordelia when she mentions witches, wondering whether maybe you and the supreme could help out all things considered.

,,It's okay honey, come here'' Cordelia softly offers as soon as Billie finishes, pulling the medium into her arms as your hands softly reach out to hold the mediums, rubbing your thumb in little circles to keep her feeling safe and sound. ,,Billie?'' Wilhemina tries after a while, after the medium had mostly calmed down. ,,Are you gonna make fun of me?'' Billie chuckles through tears, not used to let her guard down like this, especially around all of you at the same time. Wilhemina's features soften then, almost frowning ,,Of course not'' she speaks calmly ,,We are here for you'' she speaks again and it almost causes for you to cry, knowing your Mina had a hard time with these sort of things.

,,Delia?'' you ask, getting her attention as she glances at you ,,I'm sure we can help'' you urge, pleading with her through your eyes. The supreme hesitates, knowing it was probably possible her being the supreme and also having the gift of mediumship that comes with her powers but knowing this was dangerous, after all if Billie was correct and if they truly had some satanic connections. As she glances around the room, she catches a glimpse of Billie who's eyes plead in desperation and so the blonde can't help but agreeing. ,,Can you take me there tomorrow?'' Cordelia asks and is met with a gasp of relief from the medium, who nods her head gratefully. ,,How about we get you to bed for now honey?'' Cordelia tries and Billie simply nods, before the four of you ascend the stairs, getting ready for your individual evening routines and eventually finding each other in bed.

That night you don't manage to get a lot of sleep, worried about your lover who tossed and turned a lot, awoken by a nightmare a couple of times but the three of you were quick by her side, holding her gently through the terrors of the night. And eventually, you give up on the idea of sleep, softly extracting from bed and wrapping a blanket around you before hiding away in the comfort of the greenhouse, glancing through some of Cordelia's books, hoping you could find something that could help out. After countless hours, the sun already rising a while ago, you are lost in several books about satanic rituals, witches and their history, quite taken back as you hadn't really learned about this type of magic before.

Cordelia eventually finds you, watching from the door where she lingers, softly smiling at you sitting crossed leg on the floor, several books around you. ,,Sweetie?'' she startles you, causing you to jolt a little. And then as you watch her approach, looking ethereal as ever in one of her flower dresses, it dawns on you, how long you had been gone, how tired you are from the lack of sleep. ,,What are you up to in here?'' she asks, glancing at the books. ,,Just some reading'' you explain yourself, quickly up on your feet before she presses a soft kiss to your lips, noticing the little bags under your eyes and guessing you- alike her, didn't get too much sleep the night prior.

Taking her hand, you follow her inside the academy again, the witches already having begun their days, going on about their tasks, as you find both Billie and Wilhemina in the kitchen, already dressed for the day while you stand there still in your pyjamas, blanket wrapped around your shoulders. ,,Where are you going?'' you ask a little confused, noticing they are all dressed to go somewhere, Wilhemina's car keys dangling from her hand. ,,We are going with Billie sweetheart'' Cordelia softly announces, her features a little tense as she knows the argument that is about to follow. ,,Wait- give me five minutes'' you announce, getting ready to sprint upstairs but Cordelia stops you. ,,Sweetie'' she tries and by the hint of guilt in her eyes you know she doesn't want you to go.

,,I need you to stay here sweetie'' she tries but you are quick to shake your head. ,,No way'' you announce, pleading with both Billie and Wilhemina, hoping they are easier to convince at times. ,,Darling it's far too dangerous'' Cordelia explains, her features stern. ,,No Delia I don't care, I'm not letting you three go alone'' you protest before Wilhemina steps forward. ,,Little one'' she tries but you are having none of it, matching the redheads usual stubbornness. ,,Why are you going but not me?'' you question and as you glance at Billie's and Cordelia's face it suddenly dawns on you. How they always seemed to coddle you, treat you like a child as if you aren't worthy of this, not worthy of adult things, of dangerous things despite being a witch and knowing how to protect yourself. ,,Please sweetie, I need you to look after the girls and coven'' Cordelia pleads and you have always had a hard time to deny her or them of anything and so slowly you cave in.

,,We will be right back, promise babydoll'' Billie announces, pressing a kiss to your cheeks. ,,Please be safe'' you beg, before Cordelia hugs you from the side, pulling you into her arms and pressing a kiss to your cheeks. ,,Promise little one'' Wilhemina announces with a smile before you watch the three of them leave. You glance around the kitchen, noticing how you must have missed breakfast and so you opt for getting ready for your day, afterwards checking the schedule for today and how neither you nor Cordelia are due for teaching today. And so the only thing you can do is pace around Cordelia's office, hating the fact that you didn't insist on going, how the three of them could be in danger, trusting both the supreme and mediums gift with all of your heart and knowing Wilhemina was tough but after everything you had read last night, thoughts of panic and concern still crash through you, causing you to hyperventilate a little.

Meanwhile, your girlfriends had made it to the house, Wilhemina had promised to stay outside, the only way Cordelia would agree on letting her drive them. And as soon as the supreme steps foot in the house, none of Billie's crew present as they insisted on investigating this without cameras, she can sense the lost and trapped dangerous spirits. ,,Follow me'' Billie tries, leading the supreme up the stairs and to the room where she had set up several of her failed methods. Cordelia's head begins pounding and aching with their screams as they must sense that a witch had entered the house, among her ranks despite a very different form of magic. As the medium enters one of the rooms, Cordelia inspects carefully, her hands hovering nearby the walls, trying to see if there was anything she could do, a spell she could cast or trying to figure out what the spirits may want and need to move on.

What all of them are unaware of though, is that the lost souls had no intention of moving on, of stopping the haunting of the poor family who had recently moved in. All they wanted was revenge, revenge for the way they had tragically been killed, despite that being by neither of the people affected by their hauntings. As Cordelia glances around, she feels a wave of discomfort course through her veins, their screams causing for her head to ache further, Billie equally shaking with their torture. And just like they intended, they managed to get into your girlfriends heads, using their magic to cause the only thing they had meant to do, cause agony and pain upon the innocent.

And as you continue pacing, you suddenly feel like losing your balance, your ears ringing as you hear an agonising scream, and it wasn't just any scream, it was Billie, the medium screaming for help and as your eyes widen, you are quick to force them shut, using your magic abilities to teleport to your girlfriends, panic rippling through your body. Wilhemina's eyes widen as you suddenly appear in front of her, your face filled with fear and panic. ,,Little one?'' she tries ,,Where is she?'' your shaky voice ripples through the air. ,,I heard Billie scream'' you announce, before brushing past her, quickly entering the house. ,,Y/N wait'' Wilhemina tries, confusion washing over her features.

Wilhemina watches as you try to ascend the stairs, taking a few steps before an invisible force takes over, causing you to fly up and down the stairs, as your body floats at first, Wilhemina's heart stopping in her chest. And then it all stops as your scared eyes meet the redheads before you are thrown across the room, the spirits enjoying their little game. A loud bang startles both Cordelia and Billie who are unaware of what had unfolded, their eyes meeting for a second before they run downstairs, finding you in front of Wilhemina on the floor, her expression filled with panic.

,,Y/N'' Billie shouts, seeing your lifeless body on the floor ,,What happened?'' Cordelia asks, glancing at Wilhemina who remains frozen, before she kneels down, taking your head into her hands, her hands quickly staining with blood. ,,She suddenly appeared and said she heard you scream Billie'' Wilhemina explains. Billie's eyes widen in shock ,,I didn't scream...Cordelia it's the spirits, we need to get out of here'' she ushers and the supreme is quick to agree.

The blonde is quick to take you into her arms, before running towards the car, putting you in the back seat before taking a seat and holding you in her arms. Wilhemina rushes to the drivers seat, Billie beside her before she starts the car. The supreme is quick to cast a few spells, trying to stop the bleeding, trying to heal you but she quickly notices that it must be more serious than this, considering her efforts are not working as the blood still poured and the colour fades more and more from your features with each passing moment. ,,We need to get her to a hospital now'' she ushers, Billie hysterically crying in the front, glancing at you and blaming herself for ever bringing her girlfriends there in the first place.

Wilhemina's determination quickly kicks in as she drives faster, focused to get you to the nearest hospital as quickly as possible. ,,Sweetie'' Cordelia tries, brushing her blood stained hands against your cheeks. ,,Y/N'' she ushers but you can't respond as the battle of unconsciousness had won a long time ago. Tears mingle in each of their eyes, Wilhemina glancing in the mirror as panic sets in, seeing you like this. Within minutes, the redhead has you in front of the nearest hospital, having ushered Billie to call ahead and as Cordelia exits the car, still holding your lifeless body in her hands, there are already some doctors and nurses waiting for you, quickly transporting you onto a gurney and rushing you inside.

The wait feels like an eternity, a lifetime of pain and memories, as the three of them pace back and forth in one of the waiting rooms where one of the nurses had escorted them to. Billie sits curled up in one of the chairs, occasionally pacing around as tears blurry her vision. Wilhemina remains standing, despite the sprain on her back, not caring about her back as all she could think about was you, Cordelia pacing back and forth, her thoughts clouded by the possibility of losing you. And as time passes on, you linger on their mind as the doctors work their magic on fixing your injuries. Cordelia keeps thinking over and over when you first joined the academy, how captivated she had been by you, at last a witch who was experienced, who she barely needed to teach anymore. How she often found you in the greenhouse as it had become your sanctuary, how sweet and polite you had been, often asking if you could borrow some of her books, how she had taught you potions a few times as that wasn't your strong suits.

She thinks back of introducing you to the other two, how your eyes sparkled, more with each moment you spent with them. How slowly you captivated all their hearts, despite Billie unsure about another person but quickly falling for her babydoll. The medium can't help feeling guilty, how she should have never told you, thinking back to all the times she had held you in her arms, how lately she hadn't done that enough, how she hadn't spoiled you in so long as her work had left her in a daze. And Wilhemina can't help but blame herself for how she didn't stop you when you walked in, regretting not having held you or kissed you before they had left. Thinking back to all of those nights where neither of you could sleep, either you finding her in the library or her finding you reading in the greenhouse, how the two of you would often read to each other, lulling each other to sleep as she would hold you close, thinking about how you truly opened up her heart.

,,How is she?'' Cordelia's voice rings through the air as she sees one of the doctors appear, startling the other two in the process and causing for the thoughts and memories to stop for a moment. ,,She's stable'' he explains, three gasps of relief echoing through the quiet room. ,,She just needed some stitches, we assume the shock and impact caused her to lose consciousness'' he carries on explaining. ,,We are just waiting for some scans but if it stays like that, she should be observed for a few days and then good to return home'' he announces before excusing himself again to finish his tests. ,,Thank you so much'' Cordelia whispers, tears lingering in their eyes, tears of relief.

,,Thank god'' Wilhemina announces, the other two meeting her brown eyes. ,,I'm so sorry'' Billie suddenly cries, startling the two, before she breaks down. ,,I should have never said anything, taken you there'' she apologises, feeling terrible as the thought of losing you causes her to lose her balance. Cordelia is quick to guide her to a nearby chair, taking her tear stained cheeks into her soft hands ,,Honey.. Honey it's okay, she's fine'' the supreme coos, Wilhemina taking a deep breath, having a hard time seeing any of her girlfriends like this. ,,We will be just fine'' Cordelia reassures, trying to coax the medium out of her state.

It takes another while, before one of the nurses guides them to a room, where you lay, asleep from the effects the drugs had on your body. ,,The scans confirm no damage'' one of the doctors returns, causing them to again gasp in relief. ,,I suggest keeping her for monitoring but she should be just fine'' he announces. Wilhemina steps forward, glancing at both Cordelia and Billie before speaking ,,Can we take her home?'' she asks, more her girlfriends than the doctor really. ,,She hates hospitals and if it's simply a matter of observing her, we can do just that'' she tries, noticing how you aren't attached to any machines anymore, how you are simply asleep, how you simply had stitches and no surgery that required any further actions.

Cordelia glances at Billie before she glances at the doctor and nurse, a little unsure whether that would be the best idea. ,,If that's what you would prefer, we are happy to provide you with some pain medication for her once she wakes, and if you have any concern or questions you can of course call or come back anytime'' he assures and that's all the confirmation your girlfriends need. As Wilhemina settles the details with the nurses, the doctor approaches you, as you finally open your eyes. ,,How are you feeling Miss?'' he questions and you struggle a little at first, with the bright sensation and the lingering pain but you quickly adapt to your surroundings ,,Fine, a little sore'' you admit and he nods in understanding before releasing you.

,,I'm so glad you are awake sweetie'' Cordelia smiles at you softly, having made a plan with Billie and Wilhemina to distract the nurses for a moment while getting your release papers and medications so she could teleport you back into the coven, figuring that may be easier given the circumstances. And with a swift motion she has you back where you belong, inside your shared bedroom, ushering you to bed before sleep washes over you again. While the supreme watches over your sleeping form, she worries whether bringing you home was the best idea, despite the events she knows your injuries don't seem serious and she also knows how hard it was for your other two girlfriends to constantly be around hospitals and doctors, given Wilhemina's trauma from those and the spirits in the hospital, making it hard for the medium and Cordelia equally. While awaiting for the other twos return, she tries calming herself, knowing that the three of them could certainly provide the best care for you.

Both Billie and Mina return within the next while, Cordelia sitting by your side, watching your chest rise and fall softly, not for once leaving your side. And when they both return, their faces soften seeing you asleep safe and sound. ,,How is she?'' Billie asks before walking over to Cordelia, her features still filled with guilt for what had happened. ,,Fine darling, she's just been sleeping'' the supreme reassures, before the three of them just take a moment to breathe after the dramatic turn of events from today. In the end they opt for taking turns, Cordelia the first one to leave for a while in order to look after the coven for a while and check on the girls, giving some of her classes for tomorrow to Zoe, so she could look after you. Next, Wilhemina retreats for a little, opting for a bath and change of clothes after the events from today, Billie the last one to shower and get changed before returning.

It's late afternoon when you awaken next, your eyes slowly opening after hearing some hushed voices, the bright sensation from the white room causing you to squint them shut, the remaining pain in your heard still lingering. After trying again, your throat feels on fire a little as you try glancing around the room. Billie is by your side straight away, smiling at you, almost beaming a little to finally see you awake. ,,How are you feeling?'' she asks, her voice ringing through the air causing your head to pound a little. ,,Wa'' you try to speak but the pain overwhelms you for a second as you force your eyes to close again. ,,May I have some water please?'' you try again, the request coming out quiet and broken.

,,Of course babydoll'' Billie ushers, reaching for the glass of water by your beside that Cordelia had placed there a while ago. The supreme by the other side of the bed, smiling at you, Wilhemina sitting a few steps away from you in an armchair. The sip of water feels like relief as it cools down the burning sensation in your throat. ,,Thank you nurse'' you speak again after handing her back the glass with shaky hands. Billie raises her eyebrow, chuckling to herself as she sets the glass back down. ,,Is there anything else I can get for my favourite patient?'' she chuckles again, Cordelias features soft and a smirk tugging at Wilhemina's lips as they enjoy your little joke.

,,No thank you'' you reply politely before turning to the other woman sitting beside you ,,What's the prognosis then doctor?'' you ask, assuming that the other blonde must be your doctor. ,,Yes Doctor, what's the prognosis?'' Wilhemina mockingly jokes, giving you a little wink, still assuming you are joking. ,,You will be just fine sweetheart'' she states, her hand brushing over your arm and rubbing little circles on it in a comforting matter, causing for your eyebrows to furrow a little. ,,But when can I leave?'' you ask, mistaking your bedroom for a hospital room as everything is still a little blurry and there is a lot of white.

,,What do you mean sweetie?'' Cordelia asks confused, scanning your features before Wilhemina is already up on her feet, noticing how this wasn't a joke, how this had never been a joke, her expression deadly serious as she approaches. ,,Little one, this isn't funny'' she urges, her features stern, causing you to feel even more confused. ,,Do you know where you are?'' Billie asks, her eyes already brimming with tears. You reluctantly look at the blonde woman who you assume to be your doctor before she speaks again ,,Do you know what happened?''. You try to think for a moment, remembering a man talking to you before in a room that looked quite different now that you are thinking about it. ,,Do you know your name?'' the woman asks again, causing one of the other two to scoff at the ridiculousness of her question. And then it kinda dawns on you how you aren't aware of anything really, you didn't know where you are, what happened or who you are, as if your memories had been wiped completely.

,,No'' you whisper, and by your statement you can tell that those people aren't doctors or nurses as their reactions felt way more personal than that. Wilhemina's eyes force close as she takes a shaky breath, her heart beating fast and aching with pain. Billie's face is stained with tears as they keep pouring, her hand still holding onto yours, squeezing it a little tighter as if she wanted to comfort you, despite you feeling the strange urge to comfort her, despite not knowing her. Cordelia's face is filled with panic, realising the extent of the situation. ,,Wilhemina, we need to call the doctor straight away'' she announces, knowing that Billie wasn't going to be able to think straight at the moment. ,,On it'' the woman with red hair announces before she leaves the room, an unfamiliar sound echoing through the room.

,,It's going to be okay sweetheart'' Cordelia whispers, her own tears streaming down her features, shocked and in disbelief this happened but still hoping they can fix this, that maybe they had made a simple mistakes with your scans, that maybe she could even fix it with her magic. The redhead woman quickly returns, telling them how the doctor was on the way and seeing their faces and feeling utter confusion, you can't help but ask. ,,Who- who are you?'' you whisper, glancing between the three of them and your words hit them like a tidal wave, as you watch their reaction. The crying blonde one sobbing, squeezing your hand a little tighter, the other comforting blonde one furrowing her brows as her eyes search yours, the redhead one's heart literally breaking in front of you, despite her features seeming angry.

,,Darling, this is Billie, that's Wilhemina and I'm Cordelia'' she explains, as she glances between them. ,,Your name is Y/N'' she explains, her heart heavy with pain and worry. ,,You had an accident and I assume you are suffering from amnesia but one of the best doctors we know is on the way and we will fix this'' she explains, bringing at least some light into the darkness in your brain as you repeat their and your own name in your mind, wanting to remember that much. However your eyebrows furrow with confusion again when they still didn't answer who they are to you. ,,But who are you?'' you ask again, knowing this was causing them pain but needing to understand. The three women simply look at each other, unsure how to explain this to you especially considering the circumstances and so noticing her girlfriends reactions, Cordelia speaks again, her usually the one taking over in tough situations.

,,We are your partners Y/N, your girlfriends'' she speaks, her eyes almost pleading with you to remember. ,,What all three?'' you blurt out, causing Billie to chuckle a little, despite the pain. ,,Yes sweetie'' Cordelia nods, before a little smirk creeps its way onto your features ,,Well I certainly must have a type huh?'' you question more to yourself than them really, causing Wilhemina to chuckle lowly. ,,Well at least you still have your sense of humour little one'' she chuckles, hoping to bring some light into the situation, Cordelia and Billie smiling warmly, despite their hearts heavy with pain and faces filled with concern.

The next while is certainly uncomfortable, the four of you sitting in silence before Wilhemina guides the doctor into the room, thanking her for coming over so quickly. Unbeknownst to you, the woman was Billie's close friends, one of her celebrity acquaintances, who eventually also became Wilhemina's doctor. She was familiar with the academy and witchcraft and so it seemed more fitting. Cordelia had showed her the scans and reports from the hospital before, doing it in a private matter because she didn't want to overwhelm you. You had slipped into a little daze of sleep, before Billie wakes you gently, as she hadn't left your side for one minute. ,,Darling, this is the doctor we mentioned'' she speaks and you watch as a brunette woman looks at you, a little torch in her hand. ,,Hi Y/N, do you mind if I take a quick look?'' she speaks and you simply nod, still feeling sleepy and exhausted. The torch blinds you a little and causes for your eyes to close ,,Sweetie I need you to keep your eyes open'' Cordelia ushers softly and you comply, letting the doctor finish her tests.

,,Do you feel any discomfort, pain or nausea?'' she asks and you glance between the four of them before nodding reluctantly, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with this as everything hurt and everything feels empty and confusing. ,,My head hurts'' you admit, causing for Cordelia to frown, Wilhemina's features stern as she observes, the worry almost drowning her in its intensity. And for some reason, your eyes search for the redhead who is standing opposite the bed, further away than all the others and for some reason you want to be closer to her as she seemed safe. You watch as all women leave towards the door, the doctor telling them how this wasn't uncommon given the circumstances, how she ushers something to Cordelia and wanting them to keep her in the loop, wanting to examine you closely over the next few weeks, wanting to get to the bottom of this.

By the time the three of them return, you are curled up in a ball, facing away from them, as tears prickle at your tired eyes, the confusion and pain causing you to feel a little overwhelmed, not understanding what was going on. You could feel all of these feelings, these things that you didn't understand. Cordelia's frame blurs into your vision as she kneels beside you, Billie and Wilhemina standing behind her. ,,Are you okay sweetheart?'' she asks, noticing your scared and sad expression. You don't say anything, simply blinking and letting the tears run before her hand wipes them gently, causing you to cringe at her touch, feeling overwhelmed by their presences as of right now. Cordelia senses it, her heart heavy with pain before she retracts her hand, sighing in the process ,,Would you like some space to rest?'' she speaks carefully, choosing her words in a certain way, to not overwhelm you further.

,,Yes please'' you speak quietly, causing for the blonde to nod and force a comforting smile before they leave, leaving you behind to sob into your pillow for a while before sleep washes over your tired body. They opt for Wilhemina's office in the end, as it was located right next to the bedroom, wanting to at least be a little close to you incase you needed them. Cordelia sighs, rubbing her temples in frustration before taking a seat on a nearby sofa, Billie standing nearby her arms crossed in front of her chest, her thoughts racing. Slowly, Wilhemina takes a seat in her armchair near her two girlfriends, her movements slow, matching both the physical and emotional pain the last few hours had left on her. ,,What are we going to do?'' Billie sighs, unsure what to do with herself as she begins pacing a little. ,,I think we need to be patient and give her some time'' Cordelia speaks, the doubt written on her features. ,,Like the doctor said, this can happen'' she repeats her earlier words.

,,Have either of you thought about what to do if she doesn't remember?'' Wilhemina questions, her voice and features stern as two blonde heads snap towards her. ,,She will'' Cordelia almost spits, the thought too painful for her to think it through. ,,But what if she never remembers us?'' Billie speaks, her eyes brimming with tears again. ,,We will make her remember honey, it will be alright'' Cordelia tries, walking over to Billie to wrap her in a comforting hug before glancing at Wilhemina, almost scolding her for freaking Billie out like this, despite knowing her concerns are valid and the supreme would be lying as the thought had also crossed her mind but she had pushed it down for now. ,,What are we going to do now?'' Billie asks, the other two knowing what she means as it was clear you needed some space.

,,We will go and have dinner with the girls, then we can check on her and see what to do'' Cordelia speaks softly and Billie nods, feeling safe at Cordelia's words. It takes a bit of convincing for Wilhemina to join them as she didn't feel like joining the girls, wanting to be close to you, look after you but knowing it may only make things worse as of right now. And dinner isn't exactly pleasant as your absence is noticed, Zoe and the older girls had asked and Cordelia wasn't really sure whether to fill them in, opting for now it was too soon and simply explaining that you had fallen ill and would need some rest for a few days. As Billie and Cordelia take care of the dishes and confiding in Zoe with what had happened as they needed to rely on her for a while at looking after the academy and girls, Wilhemina had opted to take some dinner and tea up to your room, carrying it in on a little tray.

As she enters the room quietly, assuming you are still asleep and struggling with both the tray and her cane a little, she is surprised to find you awake and looking at her. She smiles softly before placing the tray on the little table beside you, before clearing her throat. ,,How is the pain?'' she asks almost quietly, not wanting to cause more aching for you. ,,It's a little better'' you tell her, before she hands you some water and tablets. ,,These are painkillers from the doctor'' she explains as she watches you glance at them reluctantly but without thinking about it, you take them and she notices how you don't struggle in the slightest, her little one usually hating tablets and to take any form of medication. ,,You should eat something'' she ushers, softly handing you the tray with her shaky hands. ,,Thank you'' you whisper and smile softly at her, feeling a little less overwhelmed after some sleep.

She glances at you for a moment, before turning on her heels, thinking you still wanted some space. ,,Wilhemina?'' you ask, remembering her name from when Cordelia had told you before. ,,Yes little one?'' she asks, quickly internally scolding herself for the pet name. ,,Would you-'' you begin but stop yourself, unsure whether you could ask this of the woman. ,,What is it?'' she asks softly, taking some steps towards you again. ,,Would you mind staying with me?'' you almost whisper, before her eyes glisten a little ,,Of course Y/N'' she smiles softly, extracting a chair and sitting beside you. The room fills with silence for a while, as you eat some of the food that she had brought, also appreciating the warm tea as you felt a little cold. ,,Can you maybe tell me something?'' you ask almost reluctantly again and her head tilts a little at your request. ,,Of course, what would you like to know?'' she asks, unsure what exactly you mean.

,,Just anything?'' you ask and she feels bad then, not able to imagine what it must be like to forget, to not know anything. And so gently she fills you in about as much details as she knows about you, your age, where you are from, your favourite colour, your friends, the things you are passionate about. And you can't help but notice with how much softness and adoration she tells you those things, how kind you are, how nothing is ever too much for you as you loved helping out. She briefly mentioned you teaching at the academy and by now you assume that the place you are currently in must be said academy. ,,What academy is this?'' you ask a little confused after a while and for the first time, she halts, not instantly answering your question. ,,I- I think it's better if Cordelia explains that to you little one'' she tries and you simply leave it as that.

,,What time is it?'' you ask after a while, noticing how the room was much darker now, the sun having set a while ago. ,,It's 9pm darling'' she explains after glancing at her watch. ,,And so this is your bedroom?'' you ask after glancing around the unfamiliar room, seeing four dressers, what you assume to be on ensuite bathroom, and a large makeup table in the corner. ,,It's ours'' she explains a little hesitantly. And she can tell that this must be strange and uncomfortable ,,Do you feel like me showing you around a little?'' she asks, hoping that maybe the memories of this place would help you remember a little. ,,Yes please'' you reply, handing her back the tray she had given you, before you stand up, feeling slightly dizzy from the sudden movement but much better as the tablets are already showing their effects.

And so she takes you around the academy, first taking you to your old bedroom, now mostly empty explaining how you had lived there first before moving in with them, showing you both her and Cordelia's office, before taking you downstairs, leading you to the dining and living room, hoping that might spark something, considering the many nights you had spent together there. But by your reaction she can tell that nothing seems to ring a bell. And so at last she leads you to the kitchen where the other two blondes are still sitting and talking. As they notice you up on your feet they smile softly ,,Hey there'' Cordelia greets you warmly, taking in your features. ,,I have been showing her around'' Wilhemina announces to the other two ,,Perhaps you could show her the greenhouse Cordelia and tell her a little more about this academy'' Wilhemina ushers, her eyes speaking silently, Cordelia of course understanding what the redhead was implying. ,,Of course'' she smiles softly, before standing up. ,,Would you like to follow me outside?'' she asks you, and you nod, leaving the other two behind.

Shivering a little you take a look at the gardens, feeling the cold night air prickle at your skin a little. ,,This is the greenhouse'' she explains as the two of you enter. You glance around a little taken back and she recognises that face, sending her into a painful deja vu of when you first joined the academy and how your eyes sparkled that same way. ,,Would you like to take a seat?'' she offers, and you nod before the two of you sit in the quiet greenhouse. You glance at the blonde, for the first time really taking in her features and noticing how utterly beautiful she truly was. ,,About this academy'' she begins and you notice that same look of hesitation on her face that Wilhemina showed before. ,,This is Miss Robichaux's Academy'' she starts ,,For witches'' she carries on, startling you as your eyes widen. ,,This is a coven darling, the girls here are witches'' Cordelia explains gently, knowing this must be a lot to take in. She senses your disbelief and shock, before she places a hand on your shoulder.

,,I know this is a lot to take in'' she emphatically remarks before you look at her ,,Is this a joke?'' you ask, still in disbelief, despite having noticed some of the symbols on the tables as you entered and the countless books on potions and spells. ,,No darling'' she speaks softly again before her eyes lock with yours, trying to think of a way to prove to you that she was being genuine. ,,May I show you?'' she asks before you nod reluctantly. She walks over to one of the tables, extracting some rose petals from an earlier class, before closing her eyes and a beautiful white rose appears in front of your eyes. You gasp, your eyes flickering from the rose in her hand to her brown eyes. And then she watches the panic form across your features, as it all becomes a little overwhelming again, your head suddenly pounding again, ears ringing a little and chest rising and falling fast.

,,Okay darling, how about we get you back upstairs?'' she offers, noticing your trembling hands, before taking one into her hand and softly guiding you back inside. Once inside you find Wilhemina and Billie in the kitchen, their faces etched with concern as they notice your trembling state, already assuming the news would be a lot to take in. ,,How about we get you upstairs to bed?'' Cordelia offers but you pause, glancing between the three of them. ,,I- I don't'' you stumble over your words, feeling that same overwhelming feeling of emptiness again despite them having filled you in on more details. But it all feels too much, the thought of having to stay with them overwhelming despite the connection you feel towards them and knowing by now that they are your partners. ,,Y/N are you okay?' Billie asks, watching you seemingly struggle. ,,Can I stay in my old room?'' you blurt out, glancing at Wilhemina ,,The one you showed me?'' you ask.

Silence falls over the kitchen, Wilhemina and Billie glancing at Cordelia who stands frozen beside you, shocked at your request and utterly sad as you had always loved being close to them, always afraid of sleeping on your own. ,,I- the doctor recommended you to be under observation darling'' Billie tries, hating the idea of you being alone with all of this. ,,If that's what you want then of course, but promise to find us if you need anything?'' Cordelia offers, the other two shocked by her statement. ,,Thank you'' you breathe out almost in relief before looking at them one more time and leaving upstairs, struggling at first but eventually finding the room that Wilhemina had showed you before. ,,Why would you do that?'' Billie asks, her voice trembling before the supreme sighs ,,We need to give her time'' she announces before sighing. And so the three of them retract to their bedroom, without you, Cordelia checking on you once more and leaving some more water, pyjamas and painkiller with you, asking whether you needed anything but you politely declining. And so as the night slowly begins, neither of them manage to find much sleep, the bed feeling lonely and strange without you, feeling the urge to hold you close, the events replaying on their minds over and over again.

The next couple of days carry on like they had, you mostly spent your time on your own, the day after the accident, Cordelia had taken you to an appointment with the doctors, getting some more scans and checks done and she had worried since as you really didn't talk all that much with them, withdrawing almost. And you had felt bad ever since, the three of them really trying and showing you so much kindness. Cordelia had tried to convince you to sit in some of her classes, Wilhemina often checking on you throughout the day and Billie having left some photo albums with you. But you didn't feel ready, the headaches still returning as well as dreams at night, making it a little hard at times. A lot of questions had circled your mind and so the only thing you can do is toss and turn in bed for a while before eventually growing sick of it and sitting by the little fireplace in your room. As you glance around, you find a desk, your curiosity getting ahold of you before you open some draws, finding some books and when you read the title, the same question repeats in your mind, the question that lingered since Cordelia had filled you in on what this academy truly was.

You knew as much that this was your old room, your eyebrows furrow trying to think about whether they had mentioned anyone else staying there since. As you open the books, you find several pages on spell casting and potions and see several handwritten notes. Your eyes search the drawers until you find a pen, before it flies over a page, wanting to check whether this was your handwriting and whether you may also be a witch. The realisation ripples through you, your head hurting in that same way again as the handwriting is identical and then it dawns on you that you must also be a witch. The whole thing makes you feel sick, the lingering emptiness and confusion drowning you. You debate sleeping again but you knew it wouldn't come and so you opt for some water, the headache pounding into your skull. As you walk downstairs, you pass some witches and notice how they all smile at you, assuming they must have been your friends before. You take in the peace and quiet, hoping that you wouldn't find anyone downstairs, not necessarily in the mood after the realisation you had made.

Almost in a hurry, you rush to the kitchen, before you notice the three women that seem so familiar yet so unfamiliar at the same time. And you opt for leaving again before they notice your presence ,,Hi sweetheart'' Cordelia greets you with a warm smile, the other twos features equally filled with pain and longing. ,,Are you hungry honey? we kept you some dinner?'' Billie tries and you close your eyes for a moment to compose yourself. ,,No thank you'' you speak before explaining ,,I just came to get some water'' you explain, before Cordelia is quick to fetch a glass for you, before walking over and handing it to you. ,,Here you go love'' she speaks with so much love that it almost makes you feel bad for how angry and upset you are feeling at the moment. ,,Are you feeling okay? you look a little pale'' Billie Dean states, her features etched with concern.

You sigh then, trying hard to keep your emotions at bay before taking a sip from the water. ,,Sweeth-'' one of them speaks again and it bursts out of you, all the frustration, emptiness and their attempts of making you remember of making this better. ,,Can you stop'' you sigh, rubbing your head in frustration as it continues pounding. ,,Stop it with the constant petnames'' you sigh stomping your foot, their faces etched with worry and guilt. ,,And when were you going to tell me I'm a witch?'' you carry on, Wilhemina swallowing hard before glancing at the other two blondes. ,,How do you know that bab- Y/N?'' Billie asks, a glimmer of hope in her eyes. ,,I found a book in my room'' you announce, your voice matching your frustration. ,,I meant to tell you but I didn't want to overwhelm you'' Cordelia apologetically announces, her eyes filled with sadness. The room fills with silence before they notice a shift in your demeanour, your face considerably more pale, hands shaking as you hold onto the glass of water for support. ,,Are you okay Y/N?'' Cordelia tries again before taking a step towards you. ,,Please just leave me alone'' you almost shout in frustration as tears linger in your eyes ,,Y/N'' Wilhemina scolds, her cane banging on the floor once, causing for the pounding of your head to get even worse.

Without a word, you turn around, trying to ignore the stars forming in your vision and how much pain you are in. But then it all starts spinning a little too fast and you stop yourself, holding onto a nearby wall, Billie and Wilhemina standing frozen in their spot after your outburst before Cordelia rushes towards you, holding you up as your legs feel like giving in a little. ,,I don't - I'm sorry'' you whisper, closing your eyes bracing yourself for the pain. ,,I don't feel well'' you manage to somehow mutter before the blonde reaches for the glass, giving it to Billie who is now standing behind you. ,,May I take you upstairs Y/N?'' Cordelia tries, before you mutter out some sort of reply, unable to speak at this point. With a swift motion, both women are on either of your side, helping you up the stairs, Wilhemina following behind as they take you into your room, softly laying you down on your bed as hot tears stream down your cheeks. The redhead watches in pain, her heart aching seeing you in this much despair, Billie nervously pacing around a little, Cordelia taking in your features. Her hand lingers softly over your forehead, easing the pain that was so obviously written across your features and softly aiding you to sleep.

,,What is wrong with her?'' Billie asks nervously, before Cordelia turns to her. ,,I assume it's the headaches, the doctors mentioned that would happen''. And then the three of them stand there, almost a little awkwardly, feeling the urge to stay with you but knowing you wouldn't like it, given your withdrawal from them. And so they leave one by one, Wilhemina staying for a little while longer, watching protectively over your sleeping form but eventually joining her lovers a few doors away. Beside you, neither of them manage to get much sleep, Billie still crushed by the guilt of the whole thing, Cordelia's thoughts circling around what she could do to fix this, Wilhemina contemplating the outcome of you never remembering. And as the next morning arrives, they are the first downstairs, despite the weekend and opportunity to sleep in but they couldn't, not without their sunshine by their side who made weekend mornings so much brighter.

When you wake not much later, you feel almost relief as the pounding headache had stopped, as this was the first morning where you didn't wake after some very confusing dreams. The night prior lingers on your mind and you can't help but feel guilty, guilty for the way you had been treating them, withdrawing from them as they had showed you nothing but kindness. And as you change your clothes, getting ready for the morning ahead, you decide to do a little better today, wanting to try for them. When you eventually make it downstairs, the three of them are sitting by the kitchen table, Wilhemina reading the newspapers, Cordelia getting ready for something and Billie smoking a cigarette. ,,Good Morning'' your voice rings through the quiet kitchen, startling all three of them in the process as Billie almost drops her cigarette, Wilhemina lowering the newspaper. ,,Good morning Y/N, how are you feeling?'' Cordelia asks carefully, noticing how your features look much brighter and better, almost as if nothing ever happened. ,,Better, thank you'' you announce before taking a step towards them. ,,I'm sorry about last night'' you mumble, barely audible but they still pick it up. ,,I'm sorry about everything'' you apologise, their features softening.

,,You don't need to be sorry, we understand this must be a lot'' Cordelia softly reassures, offering you a seat and you hesitantly take it. ,,Are you hungry?'' Billie asks, smiling at you. You glance between the three of them before nodding ,,What would you like?'' she asks, happy to finally see you eating. ,,I- I'' you pause for a moment, unsure what you actually like. ,,I'm not sure'' you explain ,,What do I like?'' you ask and they glance between each other before Cordelia smiles ,,Let me make you your favourite Y/N'' and within minutes, you find a plate with eggs, some pancakes and orange juice in front of you. ,,Thank you'' you smile warmly at her before beginning to eat, your mouth watering as soon as you take some bites. ,,So what are you three doing today?'' you ask, causing Wilhemina's eyebrow to raise, surprised at your sudden change and as Billie and Cordelia begin speaking, it almost feels as it had before. ,,And I need to go to the markets today'' Cordelia announces before you look up at her ,,May I come with you?'' you ask, completely taking her by surprise.

The blonde looks at Billie and Mina who are equally surprised, Billie's heart swelling a little and the smallest smirk playing on the redheads lips. ,,Of course Y/N, I'd be delighted'' she announces. And so, Cordelia takes you to the markets, the car ride this time filled with conversation as you ask her all sorts of questions about witches and how you became one, asking about the things you used to be able to do and her filling you in with as much detail as possible. And it feels good, being in her embrace, her warm features, how she takes you around the markets, showing you her favourite stalls, taking you to a candle one and showing you her favourite scents, taking you food shopping and getting some ingredients to make your favourite things. And as Cordelia makes one last stop, you waiting in the car, you can't help but enjoy her presence, liking how warm she was, how ethereal beautiful both inside and out and as you return, you can't help but feel a little flutter in your heart. ,,How was it?'' Billie asks, the two of them still in the kitchen as you both return.

,,It was really nice'' you announce as you help the supreme empty the bags, despite her saying you should rest but you felt good and so you didn't want to rest. After unpacking most things, you find a bag with medication, assuming she picked those up on her last stop and instinctively you place them in front of Wilhemina. ,,Mina your medicine'' you speak, without thinking about it further. However, when you see her shocked expression, the other two equally startled, confusion washes over you again. ,,Y/N?'' Cordelia asks ,,How did you know that?'' her eyebrows are furrowed, Wilhemina's features very serious as you hadn't called her Mina since the accident. Billie looks at you with so much anticipation that you feel bad ,,I'm not sure'' you admit, scared to disappoint them again. ,,I'm sorry'' you mumble, feeling some tears brim in your eyes. ,,Hey, it's okay'' Cordelia reassures, her hand reaching for yours instinctively. And this time, you let her take it, holding onto her as she seemed safe for now.

The same pain in your head quickly takes over again, causing for you to take a step back, realising that maybe it was best to get some rest like Cordelia had initially suggested. ,,I'm.. going to rest for a bit if that's okay'' you speak softly, only met with understanding from your girlfriends, their gazes reassuring with a hint of concern. And as you return to your bedroom, you quickly fall asleep after taking a painkiller, unbeknownst that your memories must be connected to the random pains you would get throughout the days. They let you rest for the remainder of the day, Wilhemina bringing you some dinner in the evening and putting it on your bedside table as you are still asleep. The next day you had agreed to sit in on one of Cordelia's classes and so after breakfast with Mina and Billie, you make your way to the greenhouse, a lot of other witches already sitting and waiting for the potion class to begin. You listen intensively to the supreme, talking about the different herbs and ingredients, having somewhat of a hard time concentrating as again her beauty absolutely took you back. She looked stunning today, one of her black dresses, and you couldn't help but smile, despite it being ever so small, again you could feel the butterflies in your stomach, her voice so soft, her eyes burning with desire for her teaching.

As she begins to explain the last step for the potion, you can't help but feel your eyebrows furrowing before you begin speaking ,,Delia- isn't it supposed to be this one?'' you question, pointing towards one of the other vials and this time the whole class turns around. They had known by now what had happened and seeing your girlfriends shocked expression, you could tell you must have just said something incredibly stupid. ,,Class is dismissed for now'' Cordelia's voice rings through the air. They leave, Zoe exchanging knowing glances and you sit there, awaiting your fate and being told off. ,,How did you know that sweetie?'' she asks as she approaches you and then it kinda dawns on you that you had been remembering, despite it being ever so slowly. The blonde notices your hesitation, before taking another step towards you ,,This is good Y/N, you are remembering'' she smiles, her eyes brimming with tears but the happy feeling is quickly replaced by the returning pounding headache. And instead of sharing with her or them what was bothering you, the pain that had been lingering, you again retreat to your own bedroom, wanting some peace and quiet, away from everyone.

The next time you wake up, you had again slept through dinner and most of the day, again finding a tray on your beside, knowing it was from Billie this time as she always put some extra snacks on your tray for you. Curiously, you make your way downstairs, feeling a strange longing to the three women that apparently are your everything. You felt the urge to sit beside them, be in their presence. And you sigh in relief, seeing them sit in front of the tv, Wilhemina in her armchair doing some knitting, Cordelia on the sofa, chatting to Billie who is sitting on another armchair, as the two of them talk about something. You linger by the doorway for a minute, taking in the scene in front of you and strangely feeling like an intruder, as if you didn't belong. But your heart told you otherwise and so you clear your throat gently, startling the three of them and causing their heads to snap towards you. ,,Hi'' you awkwardly say, glancing around the room ,,Sweet- Y/N are you okay?'' Cordelia asks, their faces etched with concern. ,,Yes- um- may I sit with you?'' you ask, the two blondes face beaming with excitement, a small smile tugged on Wilhemina's lips. Instinctively, you opt for the space next to Cordelia besides your redhead girlfriend and again it doesn't go by unnoticed as that was where you usually sat, including in that same way.

This time they don't say anything, having noticed how their pointing out seems to only overwhelm you further. Yet they exchange knowing glances. Billie notices how you seem quite taken back and interested in what's on tv and it doesn't cross her mind until then that her show was playing in the background. She sees your features focusing on the scenes, Billie not in any of the scenes as of right now ,,Is this your show?'' you ask as you glance at her and again the three of them are taken back by how you would know that, unsure whether either of them may have managed it in the past. ,,Yes darling'' Billie announces. A little while later, the image is almost as it had been before, Billie now snuggled up on the sofa besides Cordelia, you also in the blondes arms slightly as she opted for putting an arm around you and you not refusing. Wilhemina sitting beside you three and watching with pride and the image gives her hope. She had struggled with the idea of you not remembering lately but seeing your milestones makes her unbelievably proud. As you continue watching her show, you suddenly feel an unsettling feeling in your stomach, the feeling of doom, that something was coming, something was severely off.

And then as if by some miracle, your mind is flooded with images, voices, scenes that you can't pinpoint. Your eyes widen as you vividly remember floating in the air, the screams of someone calling for help, confusing pictures of Cordelia's hands filled with blood, your blood. Suddenly your whole body shakes in the blondes arms, startling the three of them. ,,Y/N- are you okay?'' the redhead asks, noticing your shocked and yet unreadable expression. Cordelia's hand reaches for yours, trying to offer you reassurance but you freeze for a moment, unable to process everything your brain was currently throwing at you. ,,Sorry I- I'm tired'' you speak quickly before heading upstairs, leaving behind your three concerned girlfriends. ,,Do you think it was the show that triggered her?'' Billie sighs, walking over to her bag to sneak away for the comfort of a cigarette. ,,I'm not sure'' Cordelia speaks, her face filled with hesitation and concern, unsure why you had been reacting the way you did. Eventually, they opt for bed, choosing to give you some space, thinking that was what you would prefer, but despite that, neither of them could find much sleep, the concern and grief about you losing your memories and them losing their little sunshine, lingering on their minds.

If they had checked on you, they would have found you pacing through your old bedroom, occasionally curling into a ball on your bed, before pacing again as it seems that all your memories are returning. It was painful and slow, the first memories returning from the accident and the hospital, those ones particularly triggering. After followed all the good ones, each one from your girlfriends, before some more painful ones followed. And it hurt, your body on fire, as well as your mind, the throbbing in your head almost knocking the breath from your lungs. It felt like you were going through some weird magic ritual, wondering for a second whether Cordelia may have done something but knowing your Delia would never do this without your consent. And then at last, after several hours it finally stops, your ears ringing a little as the pain lingers but having sufficiently decreased. And then your eyes widen again, suddenly remembering it all, your heart weighing heavy with the guilt, not remotely able to understand how horrible these few weeks must have been with you like this. And then it dawns on you how much had been withdrawing, almost in disbelief to be in your old bedroom.

And then with steps as quick as light, you burst through your door, quickly making your way towards your real bedroom, hesitating for a moment but then the longing wins. Opening the door, not caring you find the three of them in bed, Wilhemina and Cordelia instantly jolt up, seeing your slightly panicked expression, Billie slowly turning around, a little confused. ,,Mina'' you whisper as you take in her appearance, as if you had just woken up, as if you are seeing her again for the first time in weeks. ,,Mina'' you cry her name out now, tears streaming down your cheeks. Cordelia's worried brown eyes meet her redhead lover's. And Wilhemina is quick to aid to your side, balancing on her cane before standing in front of you, her hand softly wiping your tears ,,What is it little one?'' she asks, her features soft but filled with concern. ,,I- I remember'' you stutter, and as you look up at her, her own tears greet you. She doesn't say anything, simply pulling you forward and into her arms, your head leaning against her chest, before Cordelia kneels in front of you, causing you to leave Wilhemina's arms for a moment. ,,Sweetie?'' she asks carefully, as if to make sure it really was you. ,,Delia-'' you cry out, your faces equally crumbling in front of each other. ,,My god- I'm so sorry'' you cry out, but Cordelia is quick to take you into her arms, tears of relief, rolling down her cheeks.

,,What is it?'' Billie's voice rings through the air but as she meets Wilhemina's expression, she instantly knows. ,,Oh- babydoll'' Billie whispers, quickly on her feet to equally take you into her arms. And in the end, the four of you are sitting on your bed, finally having you back where you belong. And for hours, you seem to apologise, for withdrawing, for not remembering sooner, for staying in your old bedroom. But they are quick to shush each of those thoughts, making you understand that this wasn't your fault and that they feel like they owe you an apology. ,,I'm so sorry this happened to you babydoll'' Billie apologises and by the way her voice shakes, you can tell she was blaming herself still. ,,This wasn't your fault Billie'' you reassure, before you ask Cordelia how they dealt with those spirits in the end and her filling you in. And then a silence follows, a comfortable one, finally being with your lovers again, finally remembering just why you loved each of them so much. For a while, you spent some time on Billie's lap, her telling you over and over again how brave you had been, snuggling into you, before the blonde softly falls asleep, content with having her babydoll back. Next you find yourself in Delia's arms, the blonde listening contently how you ended up remembering, her face crumbling as you explained the depths of pain you had gone through. ,,You were so brave sweetheart'' she tells you over and over again, eventually kissing you good night, content to have her little sunshine back.

And at last, you find yourself in Wilhemina's arms, your head resting comfortably on her chest as you look up at her features. It was dark, the only light source the moon illuminating the coven slightly, it was quiet, Billie and Delia's snoring softly filling the room. And then Wilhemina breaks it, telling you how glad she was to have you remember, how sorry she was and how proud she was of you. Her words are quiet, delicate and so unlike her usual demeanour. You snuggle into her further, feeling safe with her arms wrapped around you. ,,The truth is little one- I could never do this without you'' she admits and when you meet her brown eyes, you tear up again, her words so raw, filled with honesty as she fights back her walls and usual sternness keeping her from revealing her feelings like that. And so, the two of you hold onto each other through the night, eventually sleep washing over you both. Wilhemina content with having her little one back. And so after a long journey, you finally are back where you belong, right there, right now, with them.

[kiwi-luminaryofthestars]

03/15/2025 Progress Update:

TLDR: Another 1K written, 18K now for ch 5. Likely draft finished by tomorrow.

See, this is why I say don’t hold me to shit because I’ll be like “less than 1K words till we’re finished!” and then 1K more words happen and it’s not done. Don’t ask me what I’m doing, cuz the answer is “WRITING” 🤣🤣

Probably could’ve written more today but I got a little distracted by all sorts of bullshit and then things that weren’t bullshit. So just uhhh things. Easily distracted, that’s me.

(Void journal incoming) Absolutely monstrously stressful day and tomorrow will not be much better, unfortunately. Moving makes me want to vomit. And I hate to complain because ultimately it’s a good thing that I’m moving (more space, as mentioned before, which I’m excited for) but the process is just ugh. Perhaps I’m lazy, but I would probably sit on my futon for 15 hours straight every day writing if I was given the chance to, and when my weekend is so busy that I can barely get more than a weekday’s worth of writing done, it frustrates me.

Still, we’re getting close to the home stretch of drafting ch 5, which I’m excited for. This chapter has given me a lot of drafting trouble but not nearly as much as ch 4, so I’m gonna count this as a win. I unfortunately feel a lot of this chapter is setup again, but I’m gonna be fair to myself and say what happens in this chapter absolutely still drives the plot forward, just perhaps not in ways that are so easily seen at first glance. I don’t write scenes unless they are crucial, and so you can be assured even seemingly unimportant details are there because they’re going to pop up again at some point.

I feel a little defensive saying that, and sorry if it comes across that way. Perhaps it is my pride in crafting this story as meticulously as I have that prompts me that way. Foreshadowing can get lost when you don’t know exactly what to look for, and I may write something I think is interesting because it ties in with events that happens later, while a reader may be confused or bored it’s included at all because they don’t have that knowledge going into it. All just to say I’m attempting to balance present intrigue with foreshadowing and it’s difficult. Hoping having a beta will kinda help me see from the other side.

Fun tidbit I guess is that my Google doc for this thing is 324 pages, ch 5 ending at about 225. SO I have a whole 100 pages of other chapters written lmao. I think we’ll probably be at 1,000 pages by the end of this thing, which would be cool. I write at 12 pt 1.5 paragraph spacing at Times New Roman, which is probably a bit more spacier than an actual book, but I’m still proud to have written so goddamn much. My google doc fucking screams everytime I try to go to another chapter section tho lol maybe I should split it up at some point.

Hope you all have a lovely night!! Got so much shit going on tomorrow again, but I’m gonna try to get this draft done. With the way it’s going, I’m almost thinking another 1-2K words left… but we’ll see. I just UGH love writing Shuichi’s inner perspectives; I keep yapping and yapping on, that’s me.

[cabinofimagines]

Lakeside Birthday

So I only took the plot part of the request (celebrating the birthday at the lakeside picnic) because I don't write female readers anymore, nor do I think being a Poseidon kid would significantly alter what would happen, like what? You wanna get hunted on your romantic date? Polybotes shows up?

Pairing: Will Solace x gn!Reader Request: Could you write a fluffy Will Solace x Shy! Percy's Sister! Reader oneshot, where Will surprises his girlfriend (Reader) with a romantic lakeside picnic on her birthday? Word count: 0.6k Warnings: nothing!

-Asnyox

When your boyfriend whisked you away today you were excited. Will had specifically instructed you to not plan anything, saying that for your special day he had it all planned out. Of course, he first checked when you would want to celebrate with friends, but as your birthday fell on a weekday you wouldn’t be busy today. Therefore, on the day itself, your boyfriend had taken you by the hand and led you away. 

You gasped as you laid your eyes on the scene. Somehow Will had found the perfect spot- right at the lakeside, in the shade with sunlight peeking through. There was a blanket on the floor, a muted orange stripe pattern on it. There were cushions on the blanket, and a basket in the middle. Somehow, Will had convinced the dryads to grow flowers around the blanket, with a singular path left empty to reach the blanket. Plus the view! You could see the entire lake from here, the sun reflecting on the water and a canoe here and there in the water. Almost as if it was planned, birds flew over the lake. 

“Oh, this looks amazing.” you said and Will looked a little flustered. “I’m glad you like it! I have to admit,” Will smiled bashfully, “Mellie was the one pulling favors for this. I mentioned to her what I wanted to do, and she found this the least she could do for me after delivering her baby.” “I’ll have to thank Mellie too then!” 

As you sat down Will started setting out the food. He had packed the picnic basket with an assortment of foods- sandwiches, fruits, cheese and some sweet treats. After he brought out the beverages, mostly chilled but you also noticed a thermos between the items, he started taking out more things.

“These are essential too,” Will explained, showing you the sunscreen, insect repellent and even an extra blanket for if it got cold. There was barely any space to move after Will was done, and you felt like teasing him a little.

“All this stuff, and no romantic violin?” you asked and Will got a glint in his eyes. “Austin is only an IM away, I asked him,” Will looked at you intensely, “but I was hoping to spend most of the time with just the two of us.” 

“I have a deck of cards, or we can take a canoe.” Will suggested. “You sure you want to canoe? I’m rather comfortable here right now,” you smiled, “Maybe the cards will do fine, or we can cuddle?” 

“It’s hard to cuddle while playing a card game, you’ll see my hand and cheat.” Will accused you and you laughed. “Perhaps we can play solitaire together then, no cheating there.” “Twolitaire?” Will said, a smile on his lips while you stifled your laughter in order to glare at him. “We can get Austin with the violin, make it threelitaire.” you laughed and Will joined in your laughter. 

The date went smoothly and was very relaxing, and as the dinner bell rang the two of you were still too full to even think about dinner. Instead, Will proposed to just sit back, grab the blanket and watch the sunset together. The sun still shone warmly upon your skin, as if Apollo himself approved of the moment. You leaned into Will’s side, and he softly pressed a kiss on the top of your head. 

“Happy birthday, love,” he whispered softly, grateful to spend this moment with you.

[anonomouswriter-blr]

Housenapped: Tanner Grayton X OC - Chapter 1: Suspicious Activity

I am a casual writer, meaning I don't upload consistently. Please don't get attached to any "series" I write (as it may only be one part released). Either way, I hope you enjoy.

Word Count: 1299

I wake up the next morning with sun rays shining through the sides of my curtains. I have these thick, velvet curtains to keep my room dark, good for warding off unwelcome nighttime visitors, but at this time of day, visible streaks of light appear on the wall.

My days are typically filled with something to do, but not entirely busy. I work from home so everything I do is through the computer. I’m a graphic designer. I create visual concepts, mostly for housing layouts and home decoration, and send them to marketers and developers who make it a reality. I also send them to clients who are looking to change things up in the home. When I’m not doing that, I host online auctions for charity or I sell items I don't want any more to make a little extra cash. Those three practices combined; I make quite a bit of money overall. Then, when the sun begins to set, my neighborhood watch duties begin. I make my rounds, get back home by nightfall, and in my free time I watch television.

Back when I was in public school, I used to envy the people who got to wake up to the natural sunlight. I would get up at four o'clock in the morning just to get ready for classes. Now I get to wake up in the afternoon. I pull myself out of bed, do my morning routine, and decide to go to the store. Now that I think about it, the store is really the only reason I leave the house. Even my clothes I order online. Sometimes I consider going out more, but every time I try, a sense of dread overcomes me and I back out. I can barely stand getting groceries. Going to my kitchen, I check to see what I may need.

Everything.

I need everything.

My fridge is bare bones. There's only water, expired plant milk, cabbage I will never touch and a well-used bottle of ketchup. And a box of tampons? So I did have tampons! I bought a new box for nothing? I really need some sleep if I’m so I’m putting sanitary products in the fridge. I should get rid of them all together and switch to those new period panty things. I leave the kitchen and grab my bag.

It’s freeing owning a car now. I used to only take Ubers and Lifts, but Luna convinced me to stop being afraid and get my own car. So I finally bit the bullet and got one. It’s a humble little used car, but it works all the same and gets me to my destination. It’s a weekday so the stores aren’t too crowded. I should have pre-planned my meals before I came to narrow down my grocery list, but I guess I’ll work on staple items and intuition. Rice, potatoes, cheese, veggies and whatever else comes to mind. I quite enjoy grocery shopping when it’s not busy.

I end up returning home with far too many bags. That darn Costco and their love for bulk items. I take the food out of the bags, putting them in their respective places in my kitchen. The purchase I’m most excited for I place proudly on my dining table: the huge triple chocolate cake with delicious chocolate icing presented on the crystal cake stand my mom got me. I'll do my best to cherish it, but it’s so good it may just be gone by the end of the week. Realising I didn’t have breakfast before I left, I make myself two raspberry toaster strudels and head to my home office. 

Every day, before I start work, I check my email for any upcoming projects or job opportunities. I read each assignment to myself under my breath. “Faith Gallagher’s thinking of rearranging her sunroom... Maddox of ‘A Hat’s Home’ wants me to design a mini house for Nathan Sharp... wants to surprise his wife- that's a good commission. Cory Davis and… hmm?”

I click on a message sent from Youngman, Luna. I wasn’t expecting to hear from her. It was an email letting me know I was on my own for Nightwatch tonight. Apparently, the scheduled member is too sick to take the shift with me. I emailed her back, letting her know I don’t mind covering the route by myself, then returned to my other emails.

I’m halfway through my work and hungry again. I know I should consider eating a sandwich or salad, but that cake has been calling my name since I picked it up. Shamelessly, I grab a big piece of the heavenly treat, and as the hours go by, I have my second piece, then my third, then my fourth. Needless to say, half the cake was gone by the time work ended. So long cherishing it. Before I know it, I’m getting ready to do my rounds. Like every night, this one is uneventful. Sometimes I wonder what would happen if someone did come across a criminal. What would they do? I have a registered gun and fight training, courtesy of the many instructors I've paid, but my neighbors might not. The police here have a slow response time and no one in this neighborhood seems to have any sense of self-defense. You’d think living in a neighborhood with recent suspicious activity would at least give someone the sense to invest in security.

It’s good that I joined though. At least I know what to look out for. In addition to the self-defense classes, I took quite a few crime-based classes in college. Did I waste my life? I'm nowhere near old, but considering all the college classes I took and all the degrees I have, shouldn't I be doing something more than designing rooms and cowering in my house? No. This is smart. This is safe.

I’m finally home, so ready to binge watch come TV. But of course, before I start my marathon I get some food. I microwave a bag of theater popcorn and start making my dinner. Once I’m finished with all that, I put them on some TV-trays and head back to the kitchen to get some more cake, but I pause. I keep promising myself I’ll start living healthy. I just got it and already half is gone. Tomorrow. I think to myself, and take a piece of cake. But something’s… off. I could have sworn I only ate half the cake. It looked like another piece had been taken. I should probably check the house to see if someone is here, but come on. What kind of professional criminal takes a slice of their victims' cake?

I shrug it off and take a big slice, then return to my living room TV. I start the marathon, but not even ten minutes in I’m distracted by a feeling. I have all my lights on, but I still want to be certain. I quickly get to my laptop and check my outside cameras. Everything seems okay, but what is that? I swear I saw a glimpse of white in the corner. What in the world?

Not wanting to get myself worked up, I settle on it being a cat or a bag or something. But just to be sure I look around the house. My bathroom light is on. I never keep it on. I must have forgotten to this morning before leaving. I don’t find anyone in the house and the outside looks fine from the windows, so I sit back down in the living room, lay a blanket over my lap, and start eating. I’m up until early morning watching, but the whole time I can’t help but think:

What was that white movement in my camera?

Uploaded: 20.Fri.Dec.2024

[authorhjk1]

https://www.tumblr.com/authorhjk1/738384368389767168/write-one-jiyho-being-naked-and-roaming-around-the?source=share

Sorry about this one , Please can you write this with just couple of lines

Thank you and Happy new year 🎉

You knew what you were in for as soon as you step out of your shared bedroom. Actually, you should've seen this coming.

Because you only have online calls with overseas companies to make, you decided to stay at home today. Your girlfriend's eyes lit up when she heard that, although it also could have been the food you made for her.

You sigh as you pull your shirt over your head, ready to start the day. Park Jihyo is already roaming around the kitchen. And because there is no wall, separating the kitchen and the living room, you can see her naked body from behind.

You wouldn't have minded on a weekend. Most of those are spent either entirely in bed, or at least partially filled with sex. That's just Jihyo's nature.

But on a day you have to work? Not sure if you're gonna survive that one.

"Good morning, oppa."

Jihyo turns around, greeting you with a warm smile. Which barely enables you to tear your eyes off her naked chest. Your morning erection just went away, but you are already hard again. You are definitely doomed.

"And you know how to do that?"

You almost stumble over your words as you ask that question. It's only 9 am. But Jihyo is standing next to you now. Still completely naked. Her flawless skin makes you reach out to her, but the man on the other line starts talking.

"Yes. Our company is an expert in this field. "

Only now you see that Jihyo is holding your breakfast. Scrambled eggs and a cup of coffee.

Your eyes wander further down. The lack of any clothing at all also exposes her pussy. Your girlfriend's lower lips just look so inviting....

"Sir?"

You shake your head, trying to concentrate.

You play with your pen as you wait for the woman on the other side to finish. As you look up from your laptop, you see your girlfriend standing on the other side of the dinner table. Her sneaky smile seems to mock you as she leans over, showing off her naked tits.

"Lunch is ready, oppa."

She whispers while winking. You didn't hear her cook and you don't smell anything. But as she turns around, you watch how Jihyo let's her hips sway from left to right. Her ass...

Concentrate!

Turns out, your lunch only consisted of one thing. Your girlfriend. She kept teasing you the whole day. Walking around naked, winking at you, biting her nails. You had a boner pretty much all day.

You know why she does this. A lot of the time you are away on business trips. That you are home during a weekday is as rare as Jihyo climaxing only once a day. Her sex drive is incredible. And the way she keeps walking around nude is a way of getting your attention. To stop working and use the time you have. To fuck your girlfriend. To give Jihyo the orgasms she craves.

-----

Hope you liked it. Feel free to ask more stuff like this, guys. But for the future, write short or just (s) at the end. So I know it's only supposed to be a couple of lines.

And happy new year to you too.

[dolli3fication]

My tachihara michizou head canons + with s/o shit idk what to call it help (first time tumblr user)

it is currently fucking 3am in the morning on a Wednesday morning. Sos send help !! (The brainrot is hard)

and yes pls ignore grammar mistakes or spelling mistakes, I’m writing this w very little brainpower and I want to feed ppl Tachi content cuz I’m sick of HOOWWW little Tachi content we have

here’s a lovely the rock TACHI illustration I did at the brink of my extinction (If the TACHI fandom disappears, that’s probs bc I died or smt)

He’s definitely a VERY polite and well mannered gentleman out of mafia atttire/persona. The kind of guy that greet you every morning with coffee/tea prepared when you enter the headquarters.

He still acts like a silly little teen boy (19 , I still hear that TEEN in him). Having to miss out on many opportunities in childhood, this fucker loves to fuck around during games.

He’s Tachihara! THIS FUCKER LOVES GUN FIGHTS. Take him to a lazed tag and he’d be winning all the time.

it takes time to get Tachi to open his heart, like DEADASS a long time. Having to work as a double spy for the hunting dogs, he mustn’t let emotions get to him during missions. Romantic relationships are a no no for him if it’s going to interfere with his workload. BUUTTTTTTT if he can reasonably squish in love between his chaotic schedule, it takes a hefty amount of work to get to him.

His sleep schedule is..smt. Very fucking sad tbh, considering how busy he is. And even during his break holidays or weekdays he still can’t sleep! His sleep schedule fluctuates too much due to a lot of things. He’s an over thinker (me 2 Tachi 😕🙏)

buddy his music taste also fluctuates so hard, the next thing he’d be listening to is rap then to Romance songs. Bros Spotify hops from freek-leek by Pete Pablo to lovesick by laufey.

ok s/o time!!

First time dating Tachi would be the cutest thing, he isn’t used to any affection! Given that his family barely embraced him with love, he’d find it difficult to respond to affectionate gestures. He wouldn’t even know what to do when his lover hugs him!! Sure he’d hug back, just a little awkward tho.

As months go by, dating Tachi for a long time means his lover gets to see a silly side of him! Out of his mafia persona and professional personality. He wouldn’t be Tachihara, he’d be just silly michizou. Cracking up the stupidest jokes on earth, like lobotomy Kaisen humor .

he’d be embarrassed to admit it but this motherfucker would be checking his phone all the time, seeing if there’s a message from his partner . Sometimes he’d be disappointed if it was just Teruko spam messaging him a bunch of gojo: “nah I’d win” memes.

he likes it when his partners runs their fingers through his hair while being cuddled. He feels warm and safe, tone able to see tachis vulnerable side is like a 50/50 win win.

sorry not sorry but he will not hold back when playing games like Fortnite or cod (I just see him as any regular guy that would play that shit), even if his opponent is his partner. Blud will pull up w the “where you go I go” ahh Typa shit on his partner just to piss them off (playfully ofc) and win that victory Royale on Fortnite.

When his partner is upset, he’d do the zestiest and goofiest acts to cheer them up!

he loves his partner a lot, he has always been afraid of loving someone due to rejection. Being rejected his whole life made his mentality develop a defense mechanism where he follows his head over his heart, rejecting his own personal feelings. (It’s 3am babe!! Idk what I’m typing atp.

it is 3:27am this is how much I can feed u w my virgin brain sos send help 😕😕🔥🔥🔥🔥☝️☝️☝️☝️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️✌️✌️✌️✌️✌️✌️

[leejenowrld]

Hiiii just saw your latest post and dropping by to say that I usually only get time to read on weekdays and I barely got past 10% of part 2 even though I really want to finish it😭 please don’t be disheartened, I will be back with questions when I’m able to

And perhaps some others who have conventional 9-5s are in the same boat as me since weekends are usually the only time we get to run errands, meet family and friends 🥺

Reading your writing is such a treat on work days though so for once I can’t wait for Monday to come so I can read it

Also I realised you said you were British and I’m on a whole different timezone so that affects how fast I get to reading too

ahhh hi babe, thank you for sending me this :) i totally do understand this !!! and im thankful you still try to fit my works into your busy days. i guess my message was more so speaking to the people who have already read but don’t interact with me but will only interact when asking for spoilers and when i’ll update next 😭😭 which isn’t you btw !!! idk there’s just some things that make me sad and demotivated when it comes to writing which is something huge i don’t wanna get into right now but i might eventually, so i guess i’m just feeling a bit low and down. but i promise this isn’t aimed at this who simply don’t have time to read as i understand why <3 thank you again for sending me this. i’m glad you find my works to be a treat 🫶🫶

[krisyyydvd]

A rollercoaster 2024.

I don't know how to write this. In previous years, I have already done this yearly blog days ago. But now, I'm writing this on December 31, the last day of the year itself. It took me a lot of days thinking about what to write and what to be thankful about when all I feel right now is sadness and hurt. However, there are still good things that happened this year and no matter how bad things turned out, I need to document this because this is the main purpose of this blog, to write, remember and travel back in time.

January 2024, my year started with me travelling to my favorite country again, Tokyo, Japan and this time, it is SUPER COLD. Like -1, my face felt numb without a facemask and my hands got numb a minute I let go of my gloves. It's my first time seeing snow and experiencing this kind of weather, so yes, I am overreacting. I love coming to Japan, I love how I understand the people speaking Japanese when I can barely group Japanese words myself. Thanks, Anime. We went to see the moving Gundam, thankfully I saw it before they took it down. Mount Fuji, which is sometimes hidden from tourists but it was visible to us the whole day! The busy crossroads of Shibuya and Tokyo Disneyland! Sadly, due to weather, the fireworks got cancelled. This is my 2nd time going to Disneyland and I still haven't experienced this firework show!!! I guess that is another inspiration for me to go to Disneyland again. Btw, I blew off all my savings on this trip hehe. 

Then came February, my mother got her eye cataract operated before valentines, we gave her a DIY money flower bouquet which she loved. Of course, my Mr. Romantico never failed to give me Sunflower. Am I just..too pretty??? Then Tinter Bean had its first event in Nueva Ecija, also visited Little Vigan on the way home. March came, we launched our Sweets/Grazing Corner! Another baby business for us! This month, my mom got confined in the hospital but was thankfully discharged before our trip to Bicol! We missed our Family trips like this, but we didn't expect the long drive! We are on the road for 21hrs! Yes, 21 hours. All of our jokes and dreams are exhausted but we are still on the road. jsq. But the beauty of Bicol paid for all our exhausted feelings, Mt. Mayon was hidden most of the time, but when we catched a glimpse of it, it was MAJESTIC. Like it was so big and perfectly shaped! Their food was mostly spicy and this is the only place I liked Laing. We also did a titkok on the entire trip haha. The family also went to Misibis Bay, a luxurious resort in Albay but for me, it was just hmm 7/10. Haha. I flaunted all my belly fats here with my emerald swimsuit. Who cares, they don't know me. 

Summer came in April, to have a quick break on our busy schedules, my bb and I went on a day tour trip in Limliwa, Zambales. This was so much fun since there a only a few people around us because it's a weekday, We tried the ATV, snacks by the beach while admiring how beautiful the sunset was. May came, and this is the month dedicated for my mother because it was her birth month and it's mother's day. For her birthday, we went to San Antonio, Zambales. The resort was 10mins away from the beach itself so my senior parents just stayed at the resort. She was so happy here, we got her a huge cake, flowers, crown and sash as if she was a princess.We were happily singing Happy Birthday to her not knowing that this is gonna be her last birthday...she also had an accident here, she slipped in the bathroom on her own, there are many reasons why she will pass away on that incident, but she survived without any injury but her back was seriously hurt to the point that she needed assistance standing up and going to the bathroom. May is still a good month for our business, because this time, we went to Makati to serve coffee at VIU's mother's day event. I actually don't know if we gained profit here haha I just want it to pass that day. 

My birth month, June, started with a bang! We were invited to serve coffee for IU's concert in Philippine Arena! I still remember hearing her live voice during practice! However, we had a car mishap that night, we almost didn't come home because my car's battery got drained. Thankfully, there are car drivers nearby that helped us! whooh! Then I celebrated my birthday just how I dreamed it would be, a Jollibee birthday party. All my friends and family were there playing like a little kid, I guess we all healed our inner child. August came and so Adam's wedding. I was a grooms-maid? HAHA, I was part of the entourage on the groom's side. I almost launched a cocktail bar here. 

BER months were so busy so it felt like a flash. In October, I watched Olivia Rodrigo's concert even though I only knew 6 songs from her setlist. She was so good and I became a fan after. My sister and niece came home from New Zealand! We are so excited to bond together with the family as a whole, this time, with her husband as well. We went to the mall, had late night movies with espresso made by my bb barista. We also launched our coffee machine here! But this month, my mom was hospitalized again. She was there for 8 days due to respiratory failure, heart enlargement and pneumonia. They had her on full face oxygen mask just to blow out the carbon dioxide from her body which was toxic to her. Basically, her oxygen level falls down when she falls asleep if she doesn't have oxygen, her heart gets affected. This is her longest time in the hospital and the biggest bill we had. She was thankfully discharged, we asked for help from our relatives and paid through credit card. This time, my mother's health card was all maxed out. Right after she was discharged, we tried to make the most out of my sister's time here. We went to Dasol Pangasinan in November, went to church with the whole family for the first time and took a family portrait. My mom even cried before the mass started. I guess because she was thankful that we are all together? or did she get a message from God that she will be coming home to heaven after a month? God, we were so happy. We did everything a family would do once they are together as if we were running out of time.  Then, Yuki was sold and I bought my dream car, white montero named Yukito. 

Then December came, God am I ready for this... This is the busiest month for Tinter Bean with 26 booked events in a month. Dec 12, my mom was rushed to an emergency, almost got confined but came home because all the results are good. We are going out almost everyday for our business but on December 17, on our anniversary, Chester got on his knees and asked me to marry him. He worked with my closest friends and family for this surprise and I literally had NO IDEA it would happen like that! That was my dream! To be engaged! I was at my happiest that night, I went home and showed my mom the video of the proposal, my friends who saw my mothers's reaction even said that she almost cried but brushed it off with a joke. We celebrated until 3am with my HS buds and my mom who was enjoying it with my friend's baby. Dec 18, I spent the entire afternoon with my mom. I helped her get bathed, restroom breaks, did exercise, I made a spanish latte and we watched Legally blonde 2. God this day was so perfect for me and I realized that I want to be home more and spend quality afternoons together with my mom. However, that wish didn't come true. 

On Dec 19, a day which I thought was a normal day would be etched in my memory forever. I woke up in the morning rushing to get my car fixed, my mom was at the dining table as usual, I stayed out while waiting for my car and at 1:30PM she even called me if I was already coming home, or if I already ate. God this was our last conversation. If I knew, I would've explained to her how much she meant to me. That she was my world. At 5PM, I checked on her in her room, I thought she was just sleeping soundly but at 5:20PM when my father asked me to wake her up, my mother...was not responding anymore. I shouted MA, MA, with my lungs and hearts out. I was waiting for her to get back to me, I was hoping she would wake up. But she never did. We took her to the emergency, but it was already too late. My mom....passed away. How did I go from being on my "happiest" to my "saddest" within just 48 hours?

Days passed, we needed to be present at her funeral. We greeted families and friends, but deep inside we are all broken. We can only sleep due to exhaustion and lack of sleep but our minds are awake and our hearts are crying. I mean, what happened? Suddenly, I don't have someone to call "Ma" anymore. Suddenly, our house was lonely. Suddenly, my ultimate dream of getting married with both of my parents beside me can't come true anymore. I cried like I never knew hurt before, my heart is still crumpled as I am writing. We spent our last Christmas together with you, but this time, you were sleeping the entire time. The world is celebrating but our hearts are aching. I can't even greet "Merry Christmas" because it feels too heavy for me. But Ma, when I heard that you were smiling that you were happy, my heart felt lighter. That's all we want, your happiness. I hope you will bring all the good memories you had here because our sisters and I did our best to give you the best senior life. We promise to take care of our father and be with him everyday. We love you Ma, you were my world and heart of our home. I will try my best to recover and cope up from this, you raised 4 strong independent women and we got all those strengths from you. Just like our favorite song said, You are one of the few things worth remembering, how can anyone mean more to me, than you. 

Few hours ago, I didn't know how to end this. Not until I attended the New Year's Eve mass, the priest said that we cannot control life and there will really come a time when you will have to celebrate occasions without your loved ones because they passed away. But there is still a reason to celebrate New Year, that is to give FULL TRUST to the Lord. 2024 brought me to my highest happy moments and brought me on my most down saddest self. 

That's why, 2025, I will surrender you to the Lord, I know his plans are better than mine. I will now let go of the control, bring me your best shot. 

[televinita]

Things I Am So Excited To Do With My 1-2 Days Off*!!!

*1-2 days not yet guaranteed but I got to quit at 2:00 today (have to go back for at least part of tomorrow) and I am ready for a weekday break before the next project because I have crammed in soooo much fun lately, with more on deck, that I can barely remember it all at this point.

1. Process The Fall Guy: queue gifs, form some words about it maybe?, novelize!!!! do u know how long it's been since I loved something on screen enough to transform it into narrative for myself. (I do. Seven months, Loki S2. I used to have stuff, multiple things!, every week) Also figure out what actual romance novels I want to find to finish working through it.

1.5. Probably also watch it again. Maybe even in theater?? oh shoot I would have to do that tomorrow for the cheap tickets...

2. Process the Abbott Elementary finale, which somehow was incredible and actually made me ship Gregory & Janine again after the season from hell so bad that just last week, I actively declared that I was so done with them and their excruciating secondhand embarrassment and cringe interactions that I would actually be angry and icked out now if they got together??

3. Process the Survivor finale and the 2700 feelings I am having about EVERYONE in the final 3 (so good!! which I would not have believed at the beginning of the season if you'd told me) and, once again, the several novels through which I would like to process this.

4. Reading triage? / generally process the absurd amount of library checkouts I already have and yet just replenished again so I can make some kind of reading plan to actually enjoy them

5. Sit outside and read! (I did this for a bit today, was great)

6. Write Goodreads reviews (I am like 10 behind)

7. Find a new movie to watch because I finally splurged on a bag of fire-roasted sweet corn flavored popcorn and omg the flavor is amazing, even better than the best microwave popcorn. I've only let myself sample a small taste so far because it would be so perfect with a ridiculous movie.

8. Process the (possibly absurd) number of things I found at Half Price Books this weekend during their 20% off sale because i did something bad (pretended I did not already buy an absurd # of books at library sales last month and went to four locations. but all their clearance sections were so full and fruitful even on the 3rd and final day of said sale!!)

9. Clean?? I would like to clear the area around the work table enough to vacuum it out. The entire dining nook, if possible. Maybe even move the table all the way off the rug, shake it out and vacuum underneath that? (this is definitely a full-day project...but I also have two books I'm specifically interested in listening to as audiobooks, at regular speed)

10. Write my book posts for the other blog for June 11th & 18th, two weeks I will absolutely be too busy to focus on for such fun Top Ten Tuesday topics.

11. Off #7, sample the many delicious things that either I or my husband have bought lately (we each have our favorite grocery store that the other basically never goes to, and we have cleaned UP on sales and/or splurged on limited-edition items lately. it will actually take me multiple days to work through even trying them, so as not to overload my system with too much junk)

12. Visit parents

13. Get books ready to sell to Half Price (there's no way I'm going even make a dent in undoing the absurd hauls, but I gotta at least try! the thrill of the new books pushed at least four titles I was on the fence about relinquishing firmly into the "bye bye bye" camp)

14. Take at least one nice long walk; the weather is so good this week!!!

15. LAUNDRY

16. I have to return at least one library item and make two pickup stops also (but I think, I hope??) that's it for the errand-running I have to do at least

17. Catch up on BookTube!! Ohmigosh I've been so busy having fun offline I haven't watched any videos in like a week.

[tojisbbg]

𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗺𝗲 𝗮𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗲, 𝗯𝗮𝗯𝘆!

❝but, you’re my baby, and i love you so much!❞  

♡ rin itoshi ♡

a/n: i kept getting tiktoks on my fyp of this trend and i couldn’t help but think of him. 

content: rin itoshi x reader, established relationship, gentlelover!rin, reader is a little mean, very fluffy, kinda short, not grammatically checked. 

---

it was almost nine and you were stressed. 

every little thing in this entire world was pissing you off because you couldn’t finish this stupid fucking project your professor decided to assign you this morning. to make things even better, it’s due before the beginning of class the next morning and it’s group work. 

surprise, surprise! your group mates are shit and the responsibility of the entire project was now shoved up your ass. 

how beautiful. 

you were barely finished with the other assignments that you received from your other classes, which meant that you’d have to pull another all-nighter. 

who the absolute fuck told you that it got better in college? ‘cause right now you want to kill yourself. 

you were trying to reach over to grab your binder when suddenly your hand knocked over the cup of coffee you had on your side. you gasped as your eyes widened.

it spilled all over your laptop. 

“no, no, no!! fuck.” you panicked, quickly ripping a bunch of tissue to wipe the liquid away without getting it further into your device. and just because god loves you so much, your phone began to buzz. 

you groaned in annoyance, leaning over to swipe the decline button. you upsettingly sighed, seeing that your laptop was already starting to malfunction, which meant that you were screwed. 

“ugh, what the fuck, man. i’m gonna end my life, i swear.” you grumbled to yourself. your phone began to ring again and your face had a scowl painted on it as you roughly grabbed the small device, swiping green. 

“y/n?” the familiar voice on the other end called out as you received the call. 

“yes, yes, what is it rin? i’m really busy right now and your constant calling is wasting my time. couldn’t you have just texted me instead?” you snapped at him, making him become silent for a few seconds and he was trying to process what the hell was going on.  

“are you okay? you seem upset.” rin responded in a worry tone, making you roll your eyes.

“no, rin. i’m actually so happy right now that i can die. whatever, why did you call?” you decided to cut to the chase, figuring that it was no use of getting too distracted right now. 

“it’s fine, i’ll see you at home.” he shortly said before hanging up, leaving you with your mouth open. 

“then what the fuck was the reason for calling me?!” you yelled at your screen, which was pointless because your lover wasn’t on the other line. you angrily slammed your phone on the table before going back to your mission of trying to revive your laptop. 

about thirty minutes has passed and you gave up on your laptop, deciding to finish your paper assignments first and then try again later. you furiously scribbled writing on your assignments, your handwriting progressively getting sloppier and uglier as you bullshitted them. 

you no longer cared if your work was absolute doodoo, you just wanted to get it done and over with. so invested in your work, you didn’t even notice when rin slipped inside your shared apartment. 

he usually had soccer practice which ended later on the day during the weekdays. the 6′1 striker entered the kitchen, rummaging through some things before his footsteps came towards where you sat.  

“this shitty ass laptop still won’t work!” you whined, banging your fists on the keyboard in frustration as you felt like ripping your hair out. 

rin pulled the chair next to you out so that he could sit down and watch his very stressed and mad girlfriend work. 

“wanna talk about it, baby?” rin finally got the courage to break the thick silence that was fogging up the entire room. 

“no.” you sharply answered back, your tone nearly slicing his heart. 

“you sure? taking a small break wouldn’t hurt.” he softly suggested, bringing a hand up to stroke your hair. for some odd reason, his persistence was getting on your nerves and you would then do something that you knew you’d instantly regret if not now then later. 

you angrily shoved off his hand, making rin look at you with a shocked and confused face at your unusual behavior. 

“for fucks sake, leave me alone! can’t you see that i’m trying to finish my work? you don’t have to worry about college like i do because you have your entire future set by kicking a stupid ball. i don’t! so just fucking go, rin!” you yelled at him, watching his face fall as he stood up from his chair. suddenly, the words on your tongue died down, your throat becoming dry. 

fuck. 

you knew you messed up real bad, but the damage has already been done. rin let out a heavy sigh before looking down at you with sad eyes. 

“okay, i’ll stop bugging you. also, your laptop most likely won’t turn back on, so stop wasting your time on bringing something back after destroying it. just use mine, it’s in my duffle bag.” rin dryly spoke before turning his heels, walking towards your shared bedroom before you heard the slam of the door shutting, making you flinch. 

“fuck you professor, i hope your wife leaves your for another man.” you swore under your breath, closing the lid of your dead laptop. you walked towards the sofa where rin’s duffle bag was, opening it to pull out his laptop for your use. 

you walked back to your spot, turning on his device to begin working. it was almost midnight, so, if god was on your side then you could hopefully finish the project by two in the morning. 

as soon as the laptop turned on, the first thing you were met with was his wallpaper which was set as a collage of your photos. you couldn’t help but take in a few minutes to stare at it, and as each minute passed, your heart began to ache even more. 

you knew that rin didn’t deserve to hear those words, but you couldn’t stop yourself from saying those awful things to him in the heat of the moment. shaking your head to shoo those distracting thoughts away, you retracted your focus back onto your project. 

---

you finished typing the last word on the report and you could almost shed happy tears. you were finally done with this shit, your hands shaking and your eyes begging to close. without hesitation, you submitted the work. who cares about checking for grammar issues when your soft bed was calling out for your ass. 

“not bad, it’s only one-thirty. hm, i guess i should eat before going to sleep since i’m kinda hungry.” you talked to yourself, shutting off rin’s laptop as you lazily made your way to the kitchen to fix yourself up some instant ramen. 

your eyes fell on the white plastic bag on the kitchen counter, an eyebrow cocking upwards as you curiously opened the bag. you gasped as you realized that it was your favorite takeout. 

“oh my god, i’m such a piece of shit.” you whispered, head hanging low as you thanked the heavens for blessing your with such a loving and kind boyfriend whom you didn’t deserve at all 

you eagerly reheated up the food in the microwave before speed walking back to the dining table. you settled your food down on the table, allowing it to cool while your pack your bag and put rin’s laptop on charge so that he could use it for his classes tomorrow. 

after eating and cleaning up, you decided to skip your usual night routine since you were pretty tired. you quickly brushed your teeth and went straight to the bedroom. 

you quietly opened the door, noticing how the lights were off and the only source that was providing some form of light inside your room was the small lamp on the side. 

tiptoeing to your side of the bed, you slipped under the covers as you sat up, leaning against the headboard. you could hear rin’s soft snores coming from the side, the cute man sleeping on his back as he faced the ceiling. 

your eyes scanned his features, which every nook and cranny of your brain had memorized. he looked so cute while he slept and an overwhelming wave of sadness hit you like a tsunami as you recalled the way you treated him earlier on the night. 

tears began to sting your eyes as guilt washed on your face, the warm liquid streaming down your face. without thinking twice, you climbed onto him as you straddled rin’s waist before hugging his sleeping form, burying your teary face in the crook of his neck while you sobbed. 

feeling the wet and warm tears stain the flesh of his neck, rin began to squirm in his sleep as he groaned. 

“what the hell?” rin groggily said, opening his sleep filled eyes as he saw a lump on top of him shaking and crying. he wrapped an arm around you before carefully sitting up, leaning against the headboard as he rubbed your back. 

you decided to face him, even though you knew you looked hideous. you face was probably wet and red like a tomato. 

“oh my god, you look even cuter now!” you cried even harder after taking one look at him, leaving rin nothing but confused as fuck. you peppered his face with kisses before wrapping your arms tightly around his neck as you pulled him into a hug. you squeezed him closer to you until it was humanly not possible. 

“i’m so sorry, rinnie! i was such a jerk to you all night because i was so upset about my stupid project. it’s just everything was getting me so mad ‘cause my group mates ditched me and my dumbass spilled coffee on my laptop, a-and the-then i-” you were choking on your tears and words from crying and talking to fast. 

“shh, it’s okay baby. i’m not upset because you reacted that way, i know you were stressed. we’re okay, y/n.” rin’s words were gentle as it helped you calm down from your crying frenzy. you raised your face up to look back at his face, seeing a soft and warm smile painted on his lips as his gorgeous teal eyes sparkled with love. 

“i know but you’re my baby! and i love you so much! god, i was so mean, how could i even say those things? i’m so, so, sorry, rinnie. i shouldn’t have taken my anger out on you i’mtheworstgirlfriendeverohmygodwhydon’tyouhateme.” you ugly sobbed, your words weren’t even coherent as rin couldn’t help but chuckle. 

he knew that you didn’t mean those words and he also knew that this would happen as well. once again, your gentle boyfriend knew you like the back of his hand. 

“ahh, what a crybaby. hm, you can make it up to me by giving me a smile. i want to see my girlfriend smile before i go to sleep, not in tears.” he playfully said, as you lifted your head to meet his eyes once more. the sight of such a domestic scene made your stomach fill with swarming butterflies. 

fuck, you just wanted to marry him. 

“i’m gonna eat you up if you don’t stop looking at me like that.” you poked his chest, making him laugh as wiped away your tears with his fingers. 

“and exactly how am i looking at you?” rin asked and you mumbled. 

“like you wanna grow old with me until i die.” you bluntly responded, making his smile widen. 

“and what if told you that it’s exactly what i want?” he gave you a cheeky grin, making you blush as a giggle left your lips. 

“then what’s stopping you, idiot? marry me! i do, i do, i do!!” you exclaimed before crashing your lips with his. you placed your hands on the sides of his face, pulling him closer to you as both of your lips molded into each other’s. rin’s arms securely wrapped around your waist, following the rhythm of your lips. 

the kiss wasn’t intense, it was sweet and lasting with a touch of innocence. it was a kiss in which you both enjoyed each other as lovers. and you loved this feeling, the feeling of breathing, tasting and touching him. 

your sweet, kind and gentle lover, itoshi rin. 

pulling away, you looked at him with adoring eyes, swiping away the strands of hair that covered his eyes. rin looked at you like you were the most beautiful and important thing in his life. 

to which you were. 

“i’ll make you my wife and keep you in my heart forever. i love you so much, y/n.” his heart swelled with his love for you. your eyes nearly shape shifted into hearts upon hearing his words. 

“i love you more, rinnie.” you smiled, placing a smooch on his lips, purposely making noise as he chuckled. 

“come on, let’s go to sleep. you have class early in the morning, i don’t want you to fall sick.” rin said and you nodded, the both of you getting comfortable on the bed. you scooched closer to your boyfriend, wrapping all your limbs around him as you placed your head on his chest. your ear was right on top of his heart, hearing the thumping noises of his heart beating. 

it brought you peace to know such a perfect man existed, alive and in your hold right now. his pulse lulled you to sleep and soon enough, you were knocked out. 

rin glanced down to his chest and saw you fast asleep, his lips curling upwards as he bent his head down to place kisses on your lips and forehead. 

“oh, before i forget.” he leaned over to grab your phone, unlocking the device as he went to the submission box of your project assignment. he unsubmitted the report, going to the title page as he erased the names of your group members. a satisfied smirk was plastered over his face as he resubmitted the finished project that had just your name on it. 

“tch, not giving those fuckers any credit for what was all you, my love. sleep tight.” he said before ending his words to himself with a yawn, his own eyes feeling heavy. you were very warm and soft, which meant that rin would be out like a light soon as well. 

[sukirichi]

Breakfast for Choso with ingredients #17 and 34 with #2 sugar? Wine is optional.

EASY 

— Nothing is ever easy with Choso, but for him, you’d push through hell and back.

meal order: breakfast + 17, 34 (fake dating, rentboy au) + 2 (enemies to lovers) + biting, scratching, choso eating reader out, sex on the beach

warnings: mature content, unedited fic, choso is mean and harsh when he’s angry

notes: thank you so much for this anon! I really enjoyed writing this and this totally made my day. I hope you like it!

word count: 10k+ LOL CHOSO BRAIN ROT

check out the fanart @tigressnej-chan made, it s so beautiful HURRR

Your day was absolutely ruined. Dark, deep bags covered your under eyes as you stormed through the convenience store downstairs your apartment, body clad in an oversized hoodie and socks visible through slippers, hair greasy and lips chapped. You’re aware you look like a mess, but did you care?

Absolutely not, especially when you haven’t been sleeping well the moment you moved into this cursed apartment because of a certain fucker.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. That specific fucker – the cause of your ruin and the devil who prevented you from living a good life – waltzed inside the store, the small bell chiming to signal his presence. You scoffed at his confident, suave walk, further irritated because he just had to be insanely attractive – in an alternative, laid-back kind of way.

He wasn’t even your type; you preferred more refined men who wore pressed suits and leather shoes, but you had to admit this man was insanely attractive.

With deep, sunken eyes, a dark tattoo across the bridge of his nose and dark hair twisted into twin ponytails, large, muscular body covered in a black sweatshirt and a red scarf – he looked very much like a former member of a gang who retired because their barbaric ways wasn’t his thing. It was an odd theory, and you sat there at the corner of the store, glaring at the man who tiredly pressed the coffee maker machine for a dark roast.

As if feeling eyes on him, his lazy eyes slid over to yours, and almost automatically, one corner of his lips tilted up in humor. This fucker knew how much he annoyed you, and he only further pushed your buttons by walking over to you, the steam of his coffee nearly blocking your gaze.

“Good morning,” he greeted sarcastically, well aware that it definitely not a good morning for you.

“Have fun last night, neighbor?”

“Yes.”

“Jeez, you won’t even bother denying it?”

“I see no point in it,” he invited himself by sitting next to you, long legs crossed over his muscular thigh. You found yourself staring at how he seemed so firm even in loose sweatpants, averting your gaze and staring at your soggy ramen noodle cup instead.  “And you’re not trying to hide the fact you’re listening, either.”

“I wasn’t listening!” you slammed your fist down the table – he didn’t even flinch, only continuing to sip his coffee as if you weren’t burning in anger beside him – as you hissed, “The walls are too damn thin and you’re so fucking loud.”

“No, I wasn’t. She was loud, though.”

Scoffing, you crossed your arms against your chest. He really was shameless. You already knew this man didn’t have enough shame in his body, but you didn’t think he’d have absolutely nothing.

Upon witnessing your stupefied state, he reached over to knock at your skull. “Still there, princess?” you cringed at his nickname for you; you didn’t even know this guy’s name, for pete’s sake! “Or are you still too bothered by the fact I got some good fucking last night?”

You flicked his arm away from you, nearly seething in your seat. “God, you’re insufferable. I should move out.”

“Yes, I think that would be for the best too,” he nodded to himself as he stared at his now empty coffee cup. Had it been that long already? Apparently, it was, because your noodles turned cold and your neighbor was already leaving your seat, dipping for a mocking bow. “Have a nice day, neighbor. Don’t think of my cock too much,” he teased, even going as far as winking until your jaw dropped.

You watched as he threw the paper cup in the proper bin, a little surprised he was decent enough to do mundane tasks like that. Sometimes, it was so easy to forget your neighbor was also a decent human being, but whatever.

You absolutely, utterly hated him, and you kept mumbling to yourself of the different ways you’d get your revenge on him as he walked out the door, his annoyingly gorgeous ass in view. “Yeah, right,” you scowled to yourself, “As if I can get that image out my mind now.”

He would not be an easy feat.

Despite your constant pleas for him to at least be silent during the weekdays to give you enough peace of mind to study for the finals, he didn’t stop. Hours just after the sun sets, you’d hear giggles and sloppy kisses on the hallway.

No matter how much you pressed your hands into your ears and set your music on full volume to block out the noise, you could always hear them.

Your neighbor was undeniably a fuckboy. 

Every night, he’d have a different girl dangling in his arms. You knew, because the voices squealing his name while he fucked them right next door were always different. Some days, it was deep and throaty, and on other days it’d be high-pitched and nearly scraping at your ears. They all said the same thing though, such as fuck, right there, you feel so good or harder, harder, please, I’m so close!

To say you were traumatized was an understatement. You never wanted to hear such things again, but alas, your neighbor apparently couldn’t give a single shit because he was fucking someone again.

As if things couldn’t get worse, the person he brought home this time around just had to have the most fucking annoying voice ever. Or maybe it sounded like the others, but you were in the middle of memorizing veins and brain chemicals in alphabetical harder when you heard the headboard of his bed slam against your wall, the sound hard and loud enough you dropped your book in surprise.

They didn’t stop. If anything, he kept going harder until nothing but his low sexy groans and his partner’s screaming – that was right, she was fucking screaming – like she was having her insides rearranged.

You didn’t doubt the possibility that maybe she really was. Your neighbor was such a huge, attractive guy, after all, it would make sense he was capable of such. Before you knew it, you could no longer understand the words in your textbook. You kept rereading the same line over and over again, but nothing registered into your mind. You were so close to screaming at them to stop and shut the fuck up because it was three in the morning and they were still going at it, but you weren’t that mean.

Yes, you hated him, but you weren’t going to blue ball someone or make sex awkward. Sex with your ex was always awkward, so you knew how painful it was to live with that memory. No matter how much you hated your neighbor, you wouldn’t go that far.

So you trudged all the way up to the building’s public balcony, bringing a blanket with you to survive the chilly bite of the night.

You used your phone’s flashlight to read all over the textbooks, keeping your little note cards organized and color coded beside you. Finally, you could make sense of things a little bit more, and you chugged at your Red Bull to keep you awake. Time passed by so fast whenever you were lost with your nose stuck in a book, and your attention was only ripped away when the balcony door swung open, revealing your neighbor with messed up hair and bruised lips.

He looked totally fucked out.

“Oh, fuck, no – what are you doing here?”

“This balcony is for all tenants,” your neighbor barely blinked as he walked closer to you, but instead of joining you on the table, he leaned against the railings and stared into the night sky. He seemed so placid, a little approachable despite his intimidating face even, and for a moment, you were studying his sharp, masculine features before he turned your way with a passive face. “Last time I checked, I’m a tenant, therefore I have the rights to be here.”

“I don’t care,” you retorted childishly, pulling your books closer to you as if he wanted to steal it. He only raised a brow at your actions, the large muscles of his arms bulging up from where he stood.

It felt so hard to not salivate at the sight, but for the sake of your pride, you had to push those thoughts down and remind yourself why you hated him so much. “I evoke your rights. You’re not welcome here.”

“You’re awfully harsh to a stranger.”

“You’re not a stranger, you’re my neighbor who brings girls in his home every night and I can never get a wink of sleep because all I can hear is them moaning and the sound of balls slapping!”

“Vulgar,” he smirked, and he had no business looking so attractive with that arrogant smirk on his face that it took all energy you had in you to not whack him with your book.

“I think I deserve an apology.”

“I think you should mind your business.”

You stood up with a scowl, nearly shoving the book right in his chest. “Bro, I’m this close to slapping this book right in your pretty face. You see how thick this is? I’m not kidding, this will hurt. Listen, I’ve got a final exam and a suture practice this weekend. All I’m asking for is just a few hours of sleep – that’s all. I just don’t get why you always seem to be balls deep in someone at every god forsaken hour; I can’t focus on my work when the noises are so distracting. At this point, I remember their begging more than I’m familiar with nerves. I need to study, okay? I really want to graduate.”

He fell silent at your sudden rant, then, he tilted his head to the side, a small smile on his lips. “You think I have a pretty face?”

“After everything I said, that’s all you remember?”

“It’s kind of hard to listen to every word when I’m distracted by your eyes.”

His comment caught you off-guard, and your eyes widened, arm coming up to hide your face that soon began to felt warm. He only chuckled at your reaction, the sound deep and throaty that it went right straight into the pools of your belly. “My eyes – what are you talking about? Seriously, what’s wrong with you? You’re so creepy!”

“Hmm,” he snickered, “That’s the first time I’ve heard that.”

“What, no one tells you you’re creepy?”

“No, people always say I’m handsome,” he said it with such a straight face that you gave him an are you serious look, and he raised one shoulder to shrug. “I’m surprised you’re not attracted to me, to be honest.”

“Wow,” you drawled out, shaking your head with a laugh as you plopped down back to your seat in defeat. “Aren’t you full of surprises? First, I get a really horny man as my next door neighbor who keeps me up at night with his shenanigans, and now he’s got the audacity to ask me why I’m not attracted to him?”

“I mean,” he scrunched his nose cutely, a huge contrast to his domineering stature. “Why aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I give up. I’m just gonna crash at my friends tonight,” you mumbled to yourself while gathering your things, leaving your neighbor all by himself. As you reached the door, you called out to him one more time, “Oh, and by the way, you reek of pussy. Go shower or something.”

“So how’s your exams going?”

“They’re fine,” you lied through gritted teeth, slicing through the fish a lot harsher than you intended. The knife scraped against the plate and you winced at the sound, ignoring your father’s loud munching. “Not too much of a big deal. My professors are nice and my classmates are nice too. I’m fitting in really well and I think I’ll even come out on top of my class this time if it weren’t for that stupid little bastard…” your last words ended up as a whisper, eyes glazing to the side as you glared at nothing in particular.

“Stupid little what?”

“Nothing, nothing,” you waved your hand in the air, “Someone’s just distracting me from my studies, is all.”

At the mention of someone distracting your usually composed and unbothered self, your father straightened up in his seat, a large smile on his face that made him look younger than he really was. “Is it a guy? Do you finally have a boyfriend?”

“Ugh, dad, really, you’re the only father who’s so eager for his daughter to have a boyfriend. Shouldn’t you be more proud that, I don’t know, I’m pretty and smart? I don’t need a boyfriend or anything.”

Your father nodded, “True, you don’t need them, but trust me when I say life is going to get pretty lonely when you grow old and you’re all by yourself. It’s still better – and life is a lot happier – when you’ve got a stable supporting and loving figure in your life.”

“I have you for that.”

“And you always will,” he patted your hand gently across the table, “But a parent won’t always be there for their child, and if you’re still not prepared for the future or ready to stand on your own two feet, then that means I didn’t do a great job at raising you; that means I’ve failed as a parent. Tell me, have I failed? Have I raised my wonderful daughter to be so repulsed by the idea of love that she’s willingly closing her doors and locking herself away in isolation?”

“No…”

“I didn’t think so,” he grinned to himself, and you watched with a frown as his eyes crinkled in happiness. Your father was such the complete opposite of you; he was always so loving and open to everyone, while you were mopey and afraid of attachment.

“Don’t be too afraid to love, child. It’s one of the most wonderful things in this world – it’s a blessing – the absolute core of our being. Why do we exist if not to love?”

“Not everyone is a romantic like you, dad,” you sighed, “Plus…how is it so easy for you to finally find someone after Mom died? Isn’t she your soul mate?” you questioned, putting your fork and knife down as you looked your father in the eye. “I just can’t believe you’re getting married again.”

“It’s already been years since she passed away, Y/N. And yes, she is my soul mate, but that doesn’t mean I’m incapable of loving someone again. Our hearts aren’t limited like that, and your mother wouldn’t want me to keep mourning her when she’s resting in peace,” he gestured to the both of you after swallowing his food, “She would’ve wanted the both of us to be happy.”

At the mention of your passed mother, your shoulders deflated, and your eyes watered at the thought of her kind smile. You wished you could see that again.

“I miss her…”

“I know, child, I know,” your father smiled encouragingly, “I also know the reason you’re so afraid to love is because you’re scared they’ll end up leaving you too, like how your mom just slipped past our fingers like that, but it’s only her body that withered. She’s still with us, right in our hearts and in our memories.”

“You really do sound like a lovesick fool.”

“That’s because I am,” your father laughed with a slap to his knees. When his phone buzzed for his alarm, he quickly dabbed a towel on his lips, standing up to excuse himself. “Now, this lunch was lovely and I dearly missed you, but I need to go back to work. We doctors just never get a break. This is a life you have to prepare for if you want to follow my footsteps.”

“I won’t follow your footsteps – I’ll surpass you.”

“I’ll be waiting for that to happen then,” he announced proudly; pride bursting in his chest at how determined his daughter was. “Oh, and Y/N?”

“Yes?” You squinted at the mischievous look in his eyes, wary of what your cunning father had in mind this time.

“You won’t outsmart me. You better bring a boyfriend or at least introduce someone to me on the wedding – or else I’m pulling you out of the university hospital.”

“Wha – Dad, that’s not fair!”

“All is fair in love and war, child, you’ll learn soon.”

“Oh, I just hate men!”

You really did hate men.

Your final exam was tomorrow already and you’d lost count of the coffee and Red Bull you’ve inhaled today, all so you could study one last time for the test, but no, something – or rather someone – just had to get in your way.

“I’ve had enough,” you announced before slamming your door open; not hesitating as your fists came banging down on your neighbor’s door. “Hey! Keep it the fuck down – someone’s trying to study here! Seriously, man, is it really that hard for you to keep it in your pants for one night? This is what, the sixth woman you’ve had around the past four days? Don’t you get tired? Because I sure as hell am very tired of you!”

The moans and the sounds of bed creaking stopped. For a moment, you almost smirked to yourself when they fell silent.

If only you knew it would be that easy to shut them up, you would’ve done so long ago. You were about to turn back into your room when his door swung open, and you were met by his sweaty and muscular chest heaving up and down – either in anger or from his previous activities – you couldn’t tell.

Your throat felt dry as you peered at him under your lashes, almost afraid of the way he loomed over you. Thank goodness he found the time to wear pants, though, because had he been baby naked, you would’ve run for the hills already.

His dark eyes cut through yours as he seethed, “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m the one who wants to ask you that,” you were surprised to find your voice despite the way your pussy actually ached just by the sight of his chiseled body, but when you did, you forced yourself to stand up taller, refusing to back down from his gaze. “It’s literally three in the morning and you’re about to fuck a hole through my wall!”

“I thought you said you’d be crashing at your friends. What are you doing here?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know I had to have your permission to come back home. Next time, I’ll give you a heads-up, good sir. And for your information, unlike you, I actually don’t like bothering the people around me so I came home. Now would you please kick her out and shut the fuck up for once?”

“Babe, are you coming back here or what?”

Red acrylic nails wound from his body out of nowhere, and your mouth fell open as you watched the naked woman press kisses on the blades of his shoulder. You were conflicted, torn between feeling jealous that she got to touch him like that because damn was he fine, but you also felt appalled your neighbor would be this type of person.

“Babe?” you repeated with a sarcastic laugh.

Stepping away from your neighbor’s tempting pecs, you waved to the stunning woman behind him. “Hi, I’m his neighbor, I don’t mean to be a cock block or anything but I’ve been a witness to his fuckboy ways for months now. If you think you’re special to him, I assure you, you’re not. Yesterday he was just banging two girls until the sunrise. If you’re really as sane as I hope you are, I suggest you skedaddle before this man feeds you with more lies. You’re not special, hun, he’s just going to fuck everything that walks on two legs.”

“Is that true?”

“Nadia, you know how this works—”

“I was literally just on the phone with you last night!” the woman named Nadia pushed him away, but because he was bigger, he didn’t budge. Nadia turned to you, her lipstick smudged and a suspicious white stain on the edge of her lips. You couldn’t even bring yourself to look down her head, and you and your neighbor both watched as she got dressed and left, hands up in the air. “Thank you for this. I should’ve known better than to waste time and money on him.”

You snickered as Nadia pressed on the elevator buttons, a scowl sent his way. Turning to him with pride swelling up in your chest, you smirked, “How does it feel—”

“Happy now?” he growled, his eyes so dark and slit into tiny cuts you took a step back, your heart pumping frantically for different reasons. You never thought he’d be this bothered for not being able to bust a nut. “Satisfied now, Y/N? Do you even realize what you’ve just done?”

“Uhm, yes,” you scoffed, matching his tone. “I just saved that poor girl’s life. Who else knows what you would’ve done and said to her. We don’t deserve to be looked down on and treated like this, you know.”

“Neither did I. I’m just doing my job.”

“Job? You don’t even have a job! You don’t even go to university for fuck’s sake – your apartment is rundown and smells like sour cunt and feet! Maybe you should even thank me because I’m trying to give you ideas on better things to do!”

“Yeah, and be like you?” he snapped, tugging at the strings of your hoodie until you fell a step forward. “Dressed in loose shirts to hide the fact you’ve got no tits and your ass is flatter than your back? Lying to her neighbor that she’ll crash somewhere but ends up waddling back home anyway because she’s always cooped up in her apartment studying to prove that she’s not as worthless as she is and that she doesn’t have a life or friends to begin with?” tears pooled at your eyes at his words, and you knew it hurt because it was true, but did he really have to say it that way?

However, his anger got the best of him, and he didn’t stop there. “I don’t want to be like you. I don’t want to skip meals and lose sleep studying for something I don’t care about because I don’t know anything else other than following daddy’s footsteps so he’d notice me more than his new bride. I’m happy with my life.”

“How did—”

“Like you said, the walls are thin. You’re not exactly so quiet to yourself, neighbor. It’s kind of pathetic you talk to the walls when you think I’m asleep because you’ve got no one else to talk to.”

Hands balled into fists at your side, you stood on your tiptoes to spit the words out. “You’re a terrible human being,” no matter how much you tried to exert dominance over him, your lips still quivered as you fought back the urge to cry. “Go fuck yourself.”

“You’re the one who needs to go fuck yourself and get laid,” he didn’t let you have another word as he slammed the door in your face, but you still heard him through the door anyway. “Uptight bitch.”

You were wrong.

Your neighbor wasn’t just difficult – he was completely impossible.

[Dad:] Don’t forget your date!

[You:] Dad…don’t push it.

[Dad:] I find it hard to believe my beautiful daughter can’t have one. Go out there and make some friends, Y/N, I know you isolate yourself too much. It doesn’t even have to be a boyfriend. You could date a girl for all I care. I just don’t want you to be too bored at the wedding. Bring a friend.

[You:] Fine, fine, okay.

[Dad:] But a boyfriend would still be better. Your old man isn’t getting any younger and I want grandkids in the future.

[You:] Dad!

[Dad:] love ya kid !

And so it was the turn of your events that had you groaning in your swiveling chair, the grip on your phone so tight you wouldn’t be surprised if you ended up breaking it. As if your week couldn’t get any more horrible with your neighbor’s hurtful words still living at the back of your mind, your father hadn’t stopped talking about you to his co-workers and his equally crazy mother that your grandmother didn’t waste time in calling you.

You loved your nan, you really did, but more often than not, she was much more of a pain in the ass than your father was. The old woman was ruthless, shooting you question by question on why her pretty granddaughter was still single, then came the demeaning comments of how you “weren’t living life to the fullest.”

Frustration eating away at you, you let out a silent scream.

The escort site blinked back at you mockingly, temptingly, as if to remind you that your problems could easily be solved with just a click. You chastised yourself for always having the need to solve problems fast and as easily as you could, because before you even realized what you were doing, your heart started beating a mile a minute as the other line kept ringing.

You ended up lying to your grandmother that yes, nan, I have a boyfriend, can I study for my exams now please, to which the pressing woman responded with, oh, finally! well, I won’t bother you anymore. study well, my dear, I can’t wait to see him!

Just thinking about how she would react if you came alone at your father’s wedding had you breaking out in a sweat, and you chewed at your nails while waiting for the site to pick up.

You were truly desperate now, so much so that you were actually calling a rental boy site.

“Good afternoon, thank you for calling Kamo Escorts! I’m Ijichi, here to assist you. What can I help you with?”

You held back a really painful cringe, biting the insides of your cheek as you got your heart to calm down. “Uhm, yeah…so this is like my first time c-calling a site like this and I don’t know what to do but…yeah.”

“I see, we get new callers too. Would you like a guide?”

“Yes, please, that’d be great thank you.”

“Kamo Escorts is all about, well, as you can see on our webpage – we have men and even women you can hire to escort you on special events. We mostly cater to clients who only need a pretty face to dangle off their arm for social company or even care, or whatever reasons the client may have and the relationship is purely business and professional, but in some cases, the escorts may have sex with the client too under the condition they are paid more.”

The gasp that left your lips was barely stifled, and you furrowed your brows at the implication. “Wh-what, so that’s like a real thing? Isn’t this…?”

Ijichi chuckled from the other line, almost as if he’d been asked this question many times before. “In a way, it is, which is why Kamo Escorts is commercially advertised for purely social company only. You may, however, negotiate with your escort if you would like more services, but we do require that you keep our escorts’ dignity and not look down on them. The service we provide may not be your typical honorable one, but we are dedicated and equally eager to be of service to this society. Should we find that you’re dehumanizing or harassing our escort, we won’t hesitate to…take some action,” the light warning of his tone didn’t go unnoticed by you, and Ijichi took note of your hesitant silence. “Would you still like to proceed?”

“Ye-yeah, I didn’t want the sex anyway.”

“Very well, then. What event are we looking for?”

“It’s for a relative’s wedding,” you supplied, “I need a date.”

“Any preference in escorts? Male, female, tall, short, sociable or introverted?”

Your eyes widened, your back flattening against your chair. “Oh, wow, so this is like a Build-A-Bear, okay, wait,” you chewed your nails again, racking up on your mind on who or what exactly you liked. “My ideal guy is…someone tall, and has pretty broad shoulders…I think I prefer a more introverted one too because people with too much energy sort of drains me…and someone caring and attentive, yes. Handsome too – but if that’s too much to ask for then—”

“It’s okay, Miss. I assure you all our escorts are definitely blessed in the gene department.”

At his confidence, you scrunched your nose and made yourself small on your chair. “Okay, but now that you say it, if he’s too handsome then I’m going to look like a potato next to him.”

“We’ll find someone compatible for you; we always never fail to please our clients. We’ll be able to match you with a more suitable escort if you’re more descriptive with what you want.”

“Okay, okay,” you continued, “Oh, and I like guys with long hair too, but really, anything is fine. I just want someone to effortlessly pretend they’re enamored after just one date and that they’re very glad to be there with me on the wedding. It’s even better if they’re introverted but can communicate well and isn’t shy at all. My relatives are kind of…freaky.”

Freaky couldn’t even begin to describe the chaos of your relatives.

In fact, had you not been paying for this service, you would’ve almost felt bad for the guy. He had no idea what he had coming for him – but then again, neither did you.

“I think we’ve got just the perfect guy for you,” Ijichi answered after a beat, “May I ask when is this event and how long you’d like to book the escort service for?”

“The event is in two weeks. I don’t need to meet him before the wedding because I’m very busy with exams, so I hope this guy can just act really well. As for the duration…I think just one day is enough. After the wedding, I’m coming right back home.”

“Convenient then,” he mused to himself, and you heard slight clicking from his side. “Let’s see…someone introverted and able to communicate well…definitely not Satoru, and his entirely booked by sugar mommies too…” Ijichi whispered to himself, followed by a slight humorous snort. “One last question: would you like someone older, younger, or the same age as you?”

“I’m in uni – I’d be more comfortable if they were closer to my age.”

“Oh, perfect, his schedule is oddly open for the whole month. Wonder what happened, he’s barely had free slots before…” the man was speaking to himself again, and you sat there pouting, even more dumbfounded at how this whole process worked.

Ijichi talked about this escort service and guided you so easily you almost couldn’t believe that it was as…simple as that. You didn’t know what you were expecting, but deep down in your mind, you were waiting for something fishy or weird to happen.

“I found someone for you. He’s one of our best escorts and I believe he’ll be great for this event. However, due to privacy issues, the disclosure of contacts and personal information can only happen once the escort agrees to this service. We’ll shortly get back to you if he’s up for the job. If not, I’ll find you another one quickly; you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“Okay, thank you so much!”

“It’s our pleasure. Thank you for contacting Kamo Escorts – we hope to see you again!”

Once the call ended, you fell back on your bed with a sigh. Your neighbor wasn’t around the whole day, leaving you in peace and silence, and you took advantage of the rare quietness by pulling out a book. Hours passed, and you were nearly finished with half the textbook, fingers slightly numb from practicing sutures over and over again when your phone lit up with a text.

It came from an unknown number, but the words were loud and clear. Hey, this is Choso, I’ll be your escort for the wedding. Please text me here for the details and what else you expect from my service. I’m only a text and call away, please don’t hesitate to ask me for anything else.

You blinked at your phone, unsure of how to process the whole thing.

So it was official now – you rented an escort and you had a date for the event. Quite frankly, you were kind of expecting that escorts would be a lot more…flirtatious or even eager to please, but this Choso guy sounded too formal for you to picture yourself having this stranger be a good company for your event. Ijichi sounded so sure though that you no longer questioned it; smiling instead now that you’ve finally solved one of your problems.

Life felt a lot easier.

At around four in the morning, you were too worn out to keep going. Your exam was in the afternoon so you still had plenty of time to sleep, your stomach grumbled, prompting you to leave your unit to get some snacks.

Keys in hand and feet cold in your socks, you locked your door, halting in your steps when you saw your neighbor. Different from his usual comfortable clothing, he was dressed in a formal white shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his large, masculine hands coming up to loosen his tie. He wasn’t aware of your presence, almost blindly walking to his door and sighing. You didn’t miss the fact his shoulders were slumped, and he looked absolutely worn out.

For a moment, you actually felt worried, until you remembered what he said to you.

“What, no pussy to fuck tonight?”

He froze in front of his door for a moment, slightly tilting back to see your aggravated stance. Upon seeing it was just you, he shook his head and turned back to unlock his door. “No thanks to you.”

“Aw, did I ruin your reputation?” you mocked sarcastically, “I’m surprised people aren’t smart enough to pick up the smell of women’s perfume on you already. Seriously, are people that desperate for touch?” It was ironic; you’d never admit it, but you weren’t any better than them. You were equally desperate to be touched despite your aversion to romantic relationships, but he didn’t need to know that.

“It’s normal when you’re someone people are naturally attracted to. Not that you’d get it, of course, because it’s clear you don’t get some.”

“At least my apartment doesn’t smell like pussy.”

“At least I don’t masturbate every night then pass out after one weak orgasm.”

Your cheeks burned at his offhanded comment, and even with his back turned to you, you could see the slight smile tugging at his cheeks. He must’ve felt so cocky, thinking that he’d defeated you, so you blurted out the most intelligent thing possible: “How dare you!” while grabbing onto his shoulders to make him face you. “Look me in the eye and take that back!”

“Whatever you’re planning,” he crooned, head tilted to the side and making strands of his bangs fall over his eyes. He looked absolutely handsome under the flickering lights of the hallway in that moment, and you hated how you weren’t able to take your hands off of his strong shoulders, his masculine and spicy perfume clouding your mind. “It’s not going to work. Surprise surprise, but you’re not as cute as you think you are.”

Your eyes burned with fire, the nerves in your body so closing to popping. He infuriated you so much. “And you’re not as sexy as you believe you are!”

“Oh, yeah?” The positions are suddenly switched as he cornered you beside his doorframe, both of his arms planted beside your head. Because he was taller, he had to lean down to look you in the eye, his warm, minty breath brushing over your lips. You stared at him with wide eyes, fingers raking over the wall in a silent attempt to flee. Upon seeing your pursed lips, he laughed.

“Then why are you so shaky? Do I make you nervous?” his head dipped down, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “Say…you only pretend to hate me, but you actually wish it was you I’m fucking every night, don’t you? Tell me…do you touch yourself when you hear me eating someone out?”

“I-I’m not—”

Before you could combust under his gaze, he pulled himself away from you, a satisfied smirk on his face at your flustered state. He chuckled lowly, keys spinning on his thick finger. “I was just teasing you, princess. No need to get so worked up.”

“I never want you near me again!”

He raised both brows as if to challenge you, and you knew from the glint in his eyes he was up to no good. “Princess, you jumped on me first.”

“I didn’t!” You shouted, immediately slapping your palm over your lips after realizing people were sleeping. He snickered at your reactions, and you pushed past him back to your unit, suddenly losing the appetite to get your precious snacks. “God, I hate you so much.”

“Believe me, the feeling is mutual.”

Difficult. Unbelievable. Complicated. Idiotic. Nothing was ever easy with him.

“Would you stop fidgeting?” your father scolded from his chair, his body barely moving as the stylists fixed his hair and makeup, but his eyes glared at you from the mirror. “You’re a lot more nervous than I am, and it’s my wedding.”

“Sorry, I can’t help it.”

Your father sighed to himself, standing up after they were done with him. He checked his appearance in the mirror for a while, nodding to himself in satisfaction. It was still a little surreal that he was going to get married again, to a woman half his age of all people, but he was happy, and his bride seemed to really love him too, so you no longer questioned your father’s decisions. He was an adult, anyway, he could make his own decisions.

“You’re waiting for your boyfriend, you say?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s he like?”

You stiffened at the question. Not wanting your sharp-eyed father to pick up on the smallest cues, you lied through your teeth despite not having any idea on who or what kind of person the escort was.

Other than discussing details of how you two supposedly met, conversations had been crisp and short. You were lucky that the escort seemed to be nice and smart enough to not always ask you to explain everything, and he was crisp and curt in his texts too. No flirty or suggestive messages, not even a single emoji. He seemed a little stiff, and while you worried if you could fake chemistry with someone who seemed like a wall, you were also assured by the fact he wasn’t some creep.

“Nice. He’s sweet. You’ll like him.”

“And when did you meet him?”

“Dad, do I have to tell this story all over again?” you groaned, “We met after exams, he goes to a different uni and he studies law—”

“Law. Impressive.”

“Of course you’re impressed,” you rolled your eyes. Coming from a family of doctors and engineers, your father, and pretty much everyone else in the family, also expected that you’d date someone who was equally intelligent and had enough connections in different industries at least. It just so happened you were really lucky your escort also really did study law for a bit before he became an escort; a detail you never got enough explanation for. “He’ll be here anytime soon. Just you wait.”

In reality, you were the one who couldn’t wait.

You were excited and nervous at the same time to see this mysterious escort, and you were in the middle of talking to your father and his bride when someone called you.

“Y/N?”

You turned around with a bright grin. That must be him! You clasped at the hems of your dress so you could meet this mysterious, rigid man properly, but the moment your eyes met his equally startled gaze, you choked on your own breath. “Y-you—”

Choso stood before you; handsome as ever in his suit and tie, his iconic twin tails still there. How ever would your father believe you now that he was a lawyer, especially with his messy hair and face tattoo? You loved it and found it sexy on him, no denying that, but your father was a little bit more traditional. But that aside, it was Choso?!

His professionalism arose and he regained his composure quicker than you did, the smile on his face so natural and alluring even you almost fell for it.

Choso wrapped an arm around your waist before kissing you on the cheek, and the skin felt extremely hot under his lips. You couldn’t move, couldn’t even speak, because Choso was pressed flush against you, and he looked at you with stars shining in his eyes you didn’t know whether to be flattered or afraid.

Maybe a fucked up mix of both.

“I’m sorry I’m late. Traffic was bad,” he explained with a small smile on his lips, and he looked so handsome and smelled so good in that moment you were left gaping at him as he bowed to your father, arm politely extended. “You must be Y/N’s father. It’s very nice to meet you sir. I’m her boyfriend, Choso.”

To your surprise, your father eagerly shook his hand with the brightest grin he’d worn the whole night before he faced you with a laugh. “No way,” he beamed, gesturing to Choso. “He’s your boyfriend? You managed to snag this fine man?”

“Dad!” your ears burned with embarrassment. Choso only laughed; making you painfully aware of his large, warm hand resting at the small of your back.

“I heard you’re a lawyer, son?”

“Yes, sir.”

Your father nodded in approval, the two exchanging over words about what his plans were for the future and how his studies were going. You stood there with a pounding heart, fearful that Choso could fuck up any moment, but he was so effortless and easy going. Had you not been the one paying him, you would’ve been fooled too.

So this was the life of an escort.

“So how much did my daughter pay you?”

“Dad, I didn’t—”

“I mean, there’s no way she actually charmed you with her non-existent social skills. My daughter here can’t even talk to someone and look them in the eye, much less ask someone out, so how did this happen?”

Choso laughed at your father’s lighthearted comment, saving the day for what seemed like the hundredth time already. “I approached her first, sir. We were both eating in this small diner and it was cramped, so we shared tables and started conversation,” Suddenly, his grip tightened on you as he pulled you closer, your ear now resting above the lulling and steady beating of his heart. How was he so calm?

He lightly squeezed your hip and it had you freezing under his touch, stiffening even more when he looked down at you so adoringly. “Guess it went downhill from there.” God, you had no idea who this man was.

“Really? What did you guys talk about?”

Choso opened his mouth to speak, but it was there, that damned glint on those dark eyes again that you clutched at his bicep. He may be damn good at this job, but knowing Choso, he was enjoying this way too much.

Anything you couldn’t predict or control properly was a huge no in your game, and you pulled Choso away before he could say something downright humiliating.

“Dad, just go focus on your wedding. I want to spend time with my boyfriend, okay?” You couldn’t even begin to fathom the inward cringe upon your words, the feeling only worsening when Choso fought back a laugh masked with a cough. Before your father could say anything else, you dragged Choso rather harshly, but he didn’t mind; he followed you obediently. “Come with me. I need to talk to you,” You didn’t stop until you were both alone in a desolated corner, and finally, you hissed at him. “What are you doing here?!”

“I should be asking you the same thing – but it turns out you’re my client.”

“Client? So you really are my escort?”

“Yes, I am.”

“So those women…”

“All my clients,” he confirmed your thoughts. “I assure you they knew what they were getting into. In fact, they were the ones who asked for that special service that caused you to lose your sleep every night. That woman the other day was just pissed because she booked me for three days, but I lied that I was available until the duration she wanted when I wasn’t.”

“You mean you were still working an escort for somebody else?”

He shrugged. “Pretty much.”

“Why did you lie then?”

“It’s more money,” Choso stared down at his hands before his eyes flitted back up to yours, his face unreadable. “I’m saving up so I can move somewhere else. Our apartment isn’t exactly the most ideal considering my profession. I need to find someplace quieter with thicker walls this time,” he smiled, “That way, I’ll no longer bother my sweet neighbor,” your lips felt dry at his words, your tongue darting out to lick at them while Choso scrutinized you under his gaze.

“I have to admit though – you asking for escort service is the last thing I’d ever imagine you doing. Not that I’m complaining since it’s still money in my pocket, but you’re not the most pleasing company to be with.”

“Oh, you bet, Choso. Had I known you were going to be my escort, I would’ve declined long ago,” you groaned, your head dropping in your hands. “What was Ijichi thinking when he said I would be compatible with you?”

“You’re not,” he stated, “But I am compatible with you – as I am with pretty much everyone else. I’m one of the best escorts, and soon you’ll see why.”

You didn’t understand what he meant by then, but it seemed Choso was quite eager to show his skills off when he dragged you back inside the reception event. The whole time, you couldn’t pay attention to anything or anyone else other than Choso. It still felt hard to believe that the whole time, he really was doing his job, and upon seeing how easily he had people believing you two were an item despite you just standing silently beside him, you felt guilty that you disrupted his “work” like that.

Guilt gnawed at you as Choso made everyone laugh, and soon your relatives were cooing, praising you and congratulating you that you were “happy” now.

Back then, you always looked down on him and even called him a mere fuckboy, but Choso was so much more than that. He was intelligent; his past as a lawyer proved that, and whatever happened that caused him to work in this industry kept lingering in your mind.

There was no denying it now.

You respected this man – admired him even.

“And now it’s time to join the newly married couple on the dance floor! Come on, people, bring your dates up here for a twirl!”

You remained planted in your seat, too comfortable with Choso’s jacket draped around your bare shoulders. You’d lost count of how many times your head ducked down for the lack of sleep, and as much as you loved your dad, you wanted nothing more than to go home and rest.

Choso offered his hand to yours, a teasing smile on his face. He wriggled his eyebrows up and down, and he looked so utterly ridiculous that you couldn’t believe the boring man you were texting was the same infuriating yet undeniably attractive bastard who was your neighbor was the same fun. The world is very small, it seemed, and you weren’t sure whether you were brave enough to venture these strange places and feelings.

“Uh-uh. No. I’m not dancing.”

“Two left feet?”

“No, I’m wearing heels. My feet hurts.”

“Then take it off.”

“And get my feet dirty?” you scoffed. As if to prove your point, you snuggled deeper into his jacket that smelled heavenly like him, closing your eyes as you pretended to sleep. “Sitting here isn’t so bad. Plus, look at them, all staring at each other with goo-goo eyes. It’s revolting,” you shuddered.

Through the sickeningly romantic music playing in the background, Choso fell silent. You cracked an eye open, frowning when Choso studied each of your features carefully. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You seem to hate the idea of love.”

“Because it’s pointless.”

Choso narrowed his eyes at your answer, brows bunching up at the way your shoulders squared to keep yourself away. Then, he stood up and sighed, offering his hand to you once more.

“I won’t really ask you to explain why, because frankly, I don’t care,” you stared at his large palms for a few seconds. There must be a ghost possessing your body because you looped your fingers through his and allowed him to guide you on the dance floor despite your mind’s protests, and soon, Choso’s eyes were all over you. “But if you don’t want your money to go down the drain and you really want to convince everyone, I suggest you forget about that mindset for just a few more hours,” his voice dropped down to a low whisper, his forehead pressed to yours. His eyes turned solemn, his hand on your waist gentle. “Dance with me. Let’s show them how madly in love we are with each other.”

“We met just last week, remember?”

“Love at first sight, princess,” Choso kissed your forehead, sending your heart thumping and running to another dimension. Oddly enough, you didn’t mind, and your hands travelled from his strong arms to his broad shoulders instinctively. “Take your heels off. You can step on my feet and I’ll dance for us both. Just put your arms around my neck – yes just like that,” he nodded with a smile when your fingertips nervously played with his hair, and Choso began to dance you both in time with the music. “Are you good?”

“I don’t like this lack of space between us.”

Choso smirked, “Why, do I get you all hot and bothered?”

“Jesus, Choso, you can’t be serious for a minute, huh?”

“It’s kind of hard to be serious when you’re so flustered and adorable right now,” you pulled at his hair in response, but of course, he wasn’t really hurt.

“Look at me,” he demanded, but you refused, keeping your gaze planted on your bare feet on top of his again. “Hey. I said look at me,” he tilted your chin up until you’re forced to be like prey under his gaze, his breath tickling the bow of your lips. “I am your escort for tonight – and I humbly ask that you do your part as my client so I can perform my job well. I need you to look into my eyes and pretend you’re in love with me.”

“I don’t want to fall in love with anyone,” you suddenly admitted, “I’m scared.”

“You don’t have to be,” he replied, softly this time, and his hands ran down tenderly to your hips to pull you closer to him. “I’ll be there to catch you.”

You couldn’t remember who leaned in first. The only thing you remembered was that the music faded in the background when you kissed him – or maybe he kissed you – fuck, you didn’t really remember. Eventually, the kiss grew too heated, his hands squeezing your waist while you moan at the taste of chocolate and wine on his expert tongue.

Choso easily read your mind and swooped you away from the crowd, the both of you stumbling until you made it out to the venue and onto the beach.

The salty air kissed your skin while Choso carried you bridal style, arms looped around his neck while he kept moving his lips above yours. He was laughing through the kiss with how messy and eager you were, tugging at his shirt to encourage him to unbutton it. Choso set you both down on the darker, isolated part of the beach where nothing but the sound of waves lapping against one another could be heard with your breathless pants and his chuckles.

You were lying on his jacket, dress bunched up to your chest while your legs were spread wide open for him. “Ch-Choso,” you choked out when his tongue ran flat across your slick folds, his hands keeping your hips pinned down to the sand. “I-I, please.”

“I got you, princess,” was all he said before he completely dived into your heat, his sharp nose brushing into your cunt.

It didn’t take long until you were spasming in his hold, legs closing around his head. Choso groaned into your pussy, a finger working its way inside your sopping cunt while he licks and slurps your arousal like it was fucking water. Now you understood why those girls always lost their mind – Choso was a fucking expert when it came to worshipping pussy.

Choso pulled his fingers out of you, making you whine at the sudden emptiness, but he was kind, eager to please you that he immediately replaced it with his tongue.

You cried out when you felt his tongue entering your hole, one thumb pulling the hood of your lips up to reveal your sensitive pearl. Choso rubbed your clit fervently, his other hand reaching up to squeeze and tug at your breasts while he drank your juices dripping down his tongue as if you would be his last meal – and he honestly wished you were, because you tasted like heaven on him and he wanted more.

Once he felt you clamping down on his tongue so tightly he struggled to retrieve his warm muscle back, he helped you reach your high by pinching your clit. You moaned out his name, the sound sending blood straight down his cock, and he groaned into your pussy the moment you grinded on his face as you relaxed from your orgasm.

Choso didn’t give you the chance to recover from your orgasm, pulling you up to his lap before he’s kissing you again. You moaned when you tasted yourself on his tongue, his face and cheeks sweet from your arousal and cum.

You should be ashamed, but you couldn’t find a single bone in your body that felt shy right now. Choso was right – there was no point in being shameful when it came to your pleasure.

The kiss was sloppy, more tongue than lips and teeth clashing onto another. Choso grinded you on his hardened erection in search of your heat that would bring him relief, but he slowed down and pulled away from you, a string of saliva connected from your lips. He wanted you – wanted to fuck you so badly – so he searched your eyes for the answer when you aligned the tip of his cock to your entrance. “Is this okay? Are you sure with this?”

“Yeah,” you gritted your teeth when his tip entered your tight cunt, your walls sucking him in greedily already. Choso’s head dropped down to your shoulder, his teeth sinking down to your shoulder. You slowly sat down on his thick length, but then froze before he could bottom out. “Wait, no, I’m broke! I can’t pay for your extra services!”

“It’s free for you, princess,” he rasped out, “Now sit on my lap so I can feel you around me already.”

“Do you always have to be so vulgar?”

Through the pleasure that had his abs rippling, Choso managed a laugh. “You might want to get used to it.”

“Why would I?” you breathed out, eyes shutting tight once he fully slid into you. He allowed you to get used to the sudden stretch; it had been too long since you’ve been touched this way that you were impossibly tight around him right now. Your chest rose and fall with each faltering breath, your nails running down his back when Choso gave a deep, experimental thrust that immediately hits your sweet spot.

You moaned, cheek resting on his shoulder as Choso set the pace, squeezing your ass as he bounced you up and down his cock. “You’re gone after this. Once this contract is over, you’re moving away and I won’t get to see you anymore. I-I won’t lose sleep anymore after hearing you fuck all those women and gosh, I hate you so much, you know that?”

“I hated you too,” he groaned through your skin, “Or at least, that’s what I told myself so I wouldn’t get hurt.”

“Hurt? I would never hurt you,” Really, you praised yourself for still being able to form coherent sentences even after Choso kept fucking into you.

“I’m an escort, princess, I’m everybody’s and nobody’s at the same time,” he explained almost angrily, and his lips zealously sucked love bites to the sensitive flesh of your neck, “Even if you won’t hurt me, we’re bound to crash and burn at some point. This is why we’re not allowed to get attached to anyone,” his lips brushed over her collarbone, his canines dragging along to make red marks. “Why we’re not allowed to fall,” he squeezed her breast in the palm of his hand, twisting the peaked nipple until you whined, hips bucking deeper into his cock. “Why we’re not allowed to love.”

“I-I don’t understand.”

“I’ve always liked you,” he laughed through the pleasure, holding your hips down so he could drive his cock deeper into you. Yes, he was selfish, yes, he was frustrated – and his feelings burst through the way Choso powered into you. You fell limp in his arms and he easily caught you like he always did, his eyes blown wide as he stared right into your eyes, his dick still pummeling through your gummy walls.

Choso inhaled sharply when you clenched down on him, an elongated moan spilling past your lips. “I liked you the moment you moved in and you fell flat on your face before you could greet me.”

“Shut up, don’t remind me of that!” you raked your nails down his back hard enough to draw blood, and Choso concealed the pain with light chuckle, the pain only prompting him to absolutely use you. “You’re seriously bringing it up now when you’re – ah, fuck – b-buried in me?”

Choso tugged at one of your legs and wrapped it around his waist, the sudden change of angle had you pressing down deeper into him. It felt like you were sinking closer and closer to his cock, the tip of his dick kissing your cervix until you’re crying out in his arms, scratches evident on his back.

“For now,” he breathed out, “I want to at least be selfish enough to want you now, just for now if fate won’t still allow it.”

“W-we can try,” you said in your lust-filled gaze, lips crashing down messily to his while you bounced on him, your hips slamming down at the same to meet his thrusts. “It’s not going to be easy, but we can try, right?” You cupped his face, surprised with the sudden vulnerability from his hooded eyes, looking so innocent and beautiful as if he wasn’t painting your insides white.

“Okay,” he nodded, brows pinching together. And that was all the both of you needed before Choso sank his fangs down the column of your neck to hold on his low groans; your head thrown back as you both drown in the pleasure of being with one another.

In the blink of an eye, all tenderness is Choso’s touches replaced by the hunger in his eyes and the power of his lust-filled thrusts. You were a moaning mess by the time your hips sit flat on his pelvic bone and his balls brush on your ass from how deep he was hitting you, and you felt his teeth nibble at the side of your breasts again as he warned, “But for now, I’m not going to go easy on you – not when I’ve wanted you for so long and I’ve been so hard for you these all time.”

And you allowed him. Because nothing was ever easy with Choso, but for him, you’d try pushing through hell and back.