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#seeing the response to this fic has been like... Oh Yeah. this is why i do what i do.
pixiescoffeeshop · 3 days
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༘˚⋆𐙚。⋆𖦹.✧˚Hello There! My name is....Bluey ya! Anyways, so I was wondering if you could do a number five five by like making him deal with the apocalypse dilemmaજ⁀➴ ⊹₊⟡⋆ and maybe he starts seeing a girl near the coffee shop and starts telling his mind out to her? Could you I mean ya , I'm not the best at request...
Stay Bright Pix˚.⁺⊹ .ᐟ
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𐙚₊˚⊹ like i’m stuck in an apocalypse.
a requested five hargreeves short fic . . 📞🐈‍⬛
context : five finally gets back from the apocalypse, and when he does, he makes a visit at griddy’s donuts. — and he sees a girl there.
warnings : minor cursing .ᐟ
author’s note : THANKKKK YOU FOR REQUESTING !! also,, so sorry this took a while to respond back to 😭 but i’m here now !! your message is so sweet, stay bright too friend 🤍 without further ado, happy reading .ᐟ
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five didn’t want to deal with the whole .. apocalypse thing, he really just wanted to see his family again. but when that family has their own issues of their own, it’s hard to keep them all in one room without practically slicing each other’s head off.
so late at night, he made his way towards a place from his childhood. a place where they used to be able to still get along. and that was griddy’s donuts.
despite the place being a popular spot in town, looked old and abandoned now. the smell of espresso flourished in the brunette’s nose just moments before he sat down and ordered.
“hello, ready to order?” a girl, younger, had her notepad out, with her own black pen. for the first time in about 50 or more years, he’d recieved a genuine smile from her. she looked kind and sweet. his gaze had been broken off once she waved her hand in his face.
“oh uh — yeah, um,” he looked down at the menu. “can i just get some coffee? black.” five handed the waiteress the menu. she wrote down on her notepad with a nod, “coming right up.” she gave another wide smile before walking to the back to grab that cup of hot coffee for him.
a few minutes later, she came back and placed the cup before him. “enjoy.” she spoke. “thank you,” he glanced at her name tag.
(name).
“(name).” he nodded at her as he sipped the coffee. she gave another smile before turning and walking away.
— 𐙚₊˚⊹ ☕️
(name) continued to clean in the back as she listened to her tunes through her headphones. she hummed to the beat as she sweeped, and once she finished with the dishes and everything else and pulled her headphones off her head.
and instead of the usual chatter and noise that echoed across the diner, there was no noise at all. it was dead and completely silent.
the girl walked out from the back and found only but unconscious and bloodied bodies on the floor. only standing in the middle of the room was the same boy that ordered the black coffee.
the boy turned around to face her, her jaw practically on the floor. his eyes widened, thinking she’d scream or yell. —
“holy shit.”
was the only thing she breathed. five hunched over, the side of his stomach stinging. she picked up her feet and quickly took the first aid from the back of the kitchen. she ran over to the uniformed boy and let him lean on counter, his face painted with agony.
she panted, looking over at the bloody wound his hand held and his face. “remove your hand. i’ll — i’ll try treating it.” she opened the first aid, “agnes? agnes!” she yelled for the other waitress but did not get a response back.
“damn it, she must’ve bolted the second she heard the gunshots — why, — why, how?” she started asking questions as she treated the wound. he hissed, “i’m sorry! sorry.” she repeated, treating it a little more gently.
as she bandaged it, he sighed with relief. “who are you? did you kill these men?” (name) furrowed her brows at him. he shook his head, staring at her eyes. “i mean — yes. i did, but,” he let out a heavy sigh.
she bit her lip, how would she get him to talk?
“i’m (name) (last name). i’m a daughter, i’m only fourteen. but, i wanna know your story.” he continued to drown himself in her eyes. “five hargreeves. i’m thirteen but my consciousness is really older than it looks.” he clicked his tongue.
they continued to sit in silence, (name) leaned her back on the counter beside him. “you mean, the hargreeves family? the superhero family?” then her eyes widened. “you’re the boy. the one who went missing years ago.” five scrunched his face.
“how’d you know that?” he asked. “people talk.” she winked. he rubbed the bandaged side of his stomach. “i have five days to get rid of an apocalypse. in. this. body.” he emphasized with another heavy sigh. she wanted to ask more questions, but she let him unload before asking anything else.
“and my family’s are filled with crack-headed assholes, and the handler’s up my ass.” he scratched the back of his neck. she smiled a little at the sight and thought of a little boy cursing as such. “and the thing is,” he sighed again as he sat up.
“i wanted to go here to unwind and remember the only times me and my siblings ever got along.” he played with his fingers. (name) watched him talk. “but now, they’re just.. a bunch of dipshits.” he tossed one of the dead guy’s arms away.
“what about you? i’ve been stuck in an apocalypse to experience high school, how is it?” he finally asked her.
“like i’m stuck in an apocalypse.” she retorted back with a smile in attempts to lighten the mood. he snickered lightly, “always thought it would seem so. thank you, (name).” he finally returned the smile.
she smiled wider, “hey, you intrigued me. can’t help it.”
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moonstruckme · 2 months
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Heyyy there! I really (like really) love your writing!!! It makes my day when I see you've posted a fic! I was wondering if I could request one either with doc!remus or emtxmaradeurs where the reader is very sick and kinda out of it and she's taken care of. Like maybe he/them asking her 'are you with me/us' becuase it looks like you're going to pass out. If you've written something like this before my apologies. Have a great day!!!
Thanks lovely, hope you have a great day as well!
emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 670 words
When Remus and James get home from their shift, they find you and Sirius curled up on the couch, you with a mug of what appears to be noodle soup steaming in your hands. You’re taking sips of it like it’s tea. 
“Hello,” says Remus, perching on the armrest to peck his boyfriend on the head. “You two aren’t where we left you.” 
“One can only lie around in bed for so many hours,” Sirius replies, tilting his head back for a real kiss. Remus gives him one, and Sirius takes another for himself. “I’m very entertaining, but after a while we both needed a change of scenery.” 
“And why is our girl drinking soup like a warm beverage?” James directs the question towards you, but you don’t seem to notice. After a moment, Sirius answers for you. 
“She wasn’t doing very well with the spoon, and though I made some excellent points about how romantic it’d be, she wouldn’t let me feed it to her.” Sirius grins salaciously at you. You offer only a faint smile in return, and he squishes your thigh in his hand teasingly. “Eventually we had to compromise on a more innovative solution.” 
“I see.” James ducks his head, finding his way into your field of vision. “Sweetheart,” he says carefully, “are you with us?” 
You blink. Your eyes look fever glazed. “Yeah.” You match his gentle tone. “Hi.” 
He smiles softly. “Hey there. You seemed a bit far away, m’love.” 
“She’s only tired.” Sirius kisses the side of your head. “We’ve just had a nap.”
“Oh, must be nice,” James jokes. You smile in response. 
Remus frowns pensively as he plays with Sirius’ hair where it’s draped over the edge of the couch. It spills through his fingers like stygian water. “What’s her fever at?” he asks. 
“It’s coming down.” Sirius nods to the fever reducers sitting next to a half-empty bottle of cough syrup on the coffee table. “We’re working on it.” 
“What was it last you checked?” James presses, but Remus has already picked up the thermometer. He murmurs a quiet direction to you as he nestles it in your ear.
“Her cough’s gotten a lot better, too, if you haven’t noticed,” Sirius says proudly. “Right, babydoll? We haven’t been having many problems since the last time she had medicine.” 
That’s not saying much, James thinks as he looks around. There are still wadded up tissues strewn about the coffee table, enough that he wonders whether one of them ought to go buy more before you all get ready for bed, and even if your cough has abated the scrape of your voice indicates your throat still feels like you’ve swallowed knives. 
Still, he tries to sound upbeat as he says, “Yeah? That’s great,” and kisses your shoulder lightly. 
“I can see why you’re so tired,” Remus says. The thermometer beeps, and his brow pinches sympathetically as he reads the screen. “That nap was the first good sleep you’ve had in a while, hm, dovey?” 
“Yeah,” you say, your voice a thin rasp. “I still have to turn over every now and then when my nose clogs up, though.” 
“Poor love,” James coos, kissing your shoulder again. “I’m about to have a shower, would you want to sit in the bathroom with me and see if the steam does anything? I could use the company.” 
“That’s a good idea,” Remus agrees. “After you’ve finished your soup, though.” 
You give James a sweet, thoughtful look. “That would be nice,” you say. The sound of your voice makes him want to burst into tears. “Thank you guys for taking care of me.” 
Sirius makes an indignant squawking sound. “Um, that’s actually been me, in case you’ve forgotten. These two sods only just got here.” 
“Sorry.” You crack a smile, sleepy but real, and lean your head on Sirius’ shoulder. “Thank you the most.” 
He hums, quickly pacified, and lets his head rest atop yours. “Apology accepted. Luckily for you, I actually quite enjoy it.”
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baby-yongbok · 7 months
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Don't Go Insane
Neighbor!Bang Chan x afab!Reader
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✧Genre - Smut ✧Warnings: Unprotected piv (Wrap it up ya'll) ✧ Masterlist ✧
A/N: I have never ever written a fic in this format but it was the only was for my brain to process the idea😭This is a product of those fucking SINFUL photos that Chan took for Nylon Japan. I'm sorry if it sucks, I'm trying to get back into writing again so I might suck for a bit, sorry! Hope you enjoy! (not proofread)
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You weren't expecting to actually like your new neighbor since your previous one was such a dick but when you meet Chan he's more than kind to you. 
He always greets you in the hallway, helping you bring your bags up to your place when you get home from shopping and checks in on you when he hasn't seen you for a couple of days
You find yourself going out around the same time that he would usually get home from his morning workout just so you can talk to him. He's so sweet and charming and hot. Oh so hot. 
He brings you food when he's made too much dinner to fit in his fridge which is code for he wanted an excuse to talk to you and gave you 50% of his meal just to see your face. 
You invite him in to eat the first time that he brings you food and it quickly turns into spending Sunday nights eating together and laughing at his stories. It's your favorite day of the week now. 
You drop by his place to ask if he needs anything from the store every time that you go now. He's memorized the pattern of your knock and jumps to his feet every time he hears it. 
You're in line at the store one day when a magazine catches your eye. Is that…Chan!? You grab it, looking through with wide eyes before buying it and nearly forgetting about the rest of your items. 
You don't tell him that you saw it. He never said what he did for work and yeah he's hot - Oh so hot - but you never thought that this would be his occupation and you defiantly didn't think that this is how you'd find out.
You flip through the magazine all night. Staring at his beautiful chocolate gaze and his perfectly blushed lips. How is he even real?
You may have also stared at his shirtless pics for an hour too long. No one has to know that though.
He brings over a new recipe that he tried this Sunday. Setting up your usual spot on the living room floor when his eyes land on a familiar photo on your side table. It's him. You bought his magazine? He tries to act normal about it but his red ears and blushed cheeks give him away. 
You catch on when he glances at it for a second time and you internally body slam yourself for forgetting to put it away. You both eat quietly, blushing and trying to find the right thing to say next. 
“I'm sorry about that.” You speak first and he glances up quickly, straightening himself up with a shy smile. “It's fine, I'm just embarrassed I guess.” He's shy about being hot?? Why does that make him hotter?
“Are you always the shy type?” Your question was genuine but your tone was suggestive, almost teasing. It creates a shift in his demeanor that makes you shiver. “Not always, no.”
You don't know how it happened. It's all a blur. One second he was talking to you, confident and sweet. He was telling you about the shoot for the magazine when he got to the topic of the shirtless photos. The air around you thickened and the words that started it all slid off your tongue.
“You look so good it could drive me insane.” You chuckled but his eyes darkened in response. 
“Do you want me to?” His eyes are on yours, his gaze is heavy and intense. “What?” You drop your fork, swallowing hard. “Make you go insane?”
That's how you ended up with his lips on yours. He swallowed each and every strangled moan and replaced it with one of his own. His hands explored your body, fast yet cautious. A gentleman.
He pulls you into his lap, one of his large palms gripping your ass over your leggings and the other cupping your cheek to keep you still for him. He pulls you close, chest to chest. He's been waiting to feel you since the moment he first saw you. He feels like he's dreaming and he prays that he never wakes up. 
His breathing picks up when you plant sloppy kisses along his jawline. Mind numbing groans and hisses falling from his lips. “You're gonna make me go insane, fuck.”
His lips feel like heaven against your skin. Soft and all-consuming. He leaves marks along your collar bones, sucking and flicking his tongue over the delicate skin. Your head is spinning as you take him in. This beautiful man that you've been dreaming of for months finally has his hands on you. 
You grind against him, his fingers digging into your hips as he presses up into you. The way that he looks up at you with his lip caught between his teeth is intoxicating. “You're so fucking beautiful.” He smiles at your compliment, blinking a blush away and trying to keep his composure. “Took the words right outta my mouth.”
You pull back, sitting on the shaggy rug and frantically undressing. You're desperate, antsy, absolutely insatiable and Chan isn't too far behind but you could never tell by how composed he looks. How does he have that much self control?
He moves to sit on the couch and watches you as you strip. Taking in every beautiful inch of your body while he makes himself comfortable. You look up at him as he sits, man spreading at the edge of your couch and giving you the perfect view of his aching cock straining against his jeans. 
Fucking sinful
"Crawl to me, baby. Come here." He beckons you with two fingers that you're dying to be acquainted with. The smile on his face while you follow his order is enough to make you explode already.
He leans forward, cupping your face and kissing you with such soft hunger. So much passion and desire. A promise, like his kiss is asking you to be his. You palm him softly over his jeans earning a soft moan from him. "You want it?” He leans back, resting against the back of your sofa, giving you full access to his zipper and button. “Go ahead, take it, princess."
His teeth sink into his bottom lip as he watches you free his cock and his eyes roll back when you fist it confidently. Pumping him at a deliciously slow place. You want to drag this out. You don't ever want this to end. 
He puts his hand over yours once he gets fed up with your teasing. He loves how your hand feels around him but he needs more of you. He taps his leaking cock against your lips and you allow your spit to dribble down his shaft. "Stick that tongue out. There we go, baby. That's my girl. Look at that.”
He holds your hair back as you slide his length into your mouth, swirling your tongue around him. His fingers massage your scalp softly making you hum around him. He's a gentleman, a filthy one. 
He couldn’t wait to switch places with you, falling to his knees so fluidly that you couldn’t help but to groan at the sight of him. His gaze never left yours. His eyes were constantly asking for permission to continue and you eagerly granted it every time.
He ate your pussy like a fucking starved man. Lick and sucking the expanse of your cunt like he’d never see you again. Your moans encouraged him as he lapped at you, he wanted - no, needed - you to cum on his tongue. It’s all that he’s been dreaming of for the last month. 
He made you cum twice and had to hold back the urge to keep going. He’s definitely found his new favorite thing.
Nevermind, kissing you is his favorite thing. The way that you sigh into his mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue and biting his bottom lip drives him wild. 
You’re seeing stars as soon as he slips into you. His strong arms on either side of your head as he hovers, kissing you softly as you adjust to him. “Fuck, you’re a dream come true, ya know that? I’ve dreamt of this, princess.” You can hardly reply once he fills you to the hilt but you try to anyway, moaning out as your vision blurs. “Wanted you so bad, Channie.”
That was enough to break him. He snapped his hips into you, giving you everything that you ever wanted, ever needed, from him. He fucks you deep, speeding up gradually just to hear you moan his name a little louder. He wants to be gentle with you but with a cunt that feels this amazing he can’t help but want to make you fall apart underneath him.
You always imagined being on top when you finally got to be with Chan but it looks like that’ll have to be another day. The way that his cock is splitting you open makes you feel like you might have to call out of work tomorrow. 
“Look at me, babygirl. You liked seeing my pictures, huh? Did you touch this pretty cunt while looking at them?” You nod your head with such urgency that you’re positive that you look absolutely pathetic but Chan thinks that it’s cute, he’s in love with how fucked out you look drooling under him. “All you had to do was ask for the real thing.” He rolls his hips into you and your eyes roll back right after. 
He holds both of your hands as he slows down a bit, he wants to make love to you. Wants to treat you like the precious gem that he knows that you are but your cunt keeps fucking squeezing around him. He curses under his breath as he tries to compose himself but it’s no use. He watches as he disappears inside of you, groaning when he sees just how perfectly your pussy is taking him. “You’re gonna make me cum, baby. You’re too much. Too good.” 
Much to his surprise you cave before he does, chanting his name like a prayer while he rocks into you at the perfect angle. You feel dizzy as you unravel under him, nails digging into his strong arms and your legs wrapping around his waist in a desperate attempt to feel grounded. 
The way that you look cumming on his cock drives him over the edge. He picks up the pace, fucking you through your orgasm while he’s chasing his. The overstimulation draws out your climax causing a new wave of pleasure to hit you harder than the last. “Yeah yeah yeah, oh fuck such a pretty girl cumming on my cock like that, that's it baby.” He doesn’t even know what he’s saying but he doesn’t care he’s so close so so so close.
You forced your eyes open when he pulled out, you needed to watch him stroke himself over the edge and cover your stomach in his cum. You need to take in the way his eyes squeeze shut and his brows furrow while he moans for you. “Oh fuck fuck fuck.”
The giggles that you share after may be Chan’s new favorite part. He cleaned you up and wrapped his arms around you. Pressing kisses to your hair as you both talk about what just happened with smiles on your faces 
“This is a bit backwards but uh, can I take you out? Maybe next weekend?” The butterflies in your stomach go crazy as you blush into his chest, nodding happily and answering with a muffled ‘yes’ that makes Chan chuckle. “Maybe afterward I can fuck the sense back into ya, since I drove you insane tonight.”
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zer0wzs · 1 month
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"𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙤"
[ gn!reader ] jason todd does not know how greatly positive the impact of owning a dog is wc: 1232
AN: i whipped this up just randomly my apologies if its kinda just . eh??? i still like it to some extent and oh!! this is my first jason pov fic
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“That’s Milo, I’m guessing?” Jason mused.
“Yeah! Isn’t he the cutest?” You grin, pointing at the four-month-old beagle. It’s Jason’s first time meeting the dog. He’s only known him through pictures so far, but you’ve only had him for a few days anyway. “Gosh, he’s the absolute cutest.”
Like a slightly dismissive father, Jason wasn’t too keen on the idea of getting a pet. Rent is high enough as it is, even in terms of Gotham’s cost of living, and as wonderful as the idea is, it would only dent his schedule.
You, however, go against his views (Not that he ever forced it on you) and adopt a rescue puppy from a nearby shelter.
“I don’t know. You might like the dog more than me.” He joked.
He’s still on the fence about this. Though you live on the more well-off side of the city, the neighborhoods here still aren’t the safest place to walk dogs. He’d hate to see you devastated if the dog got hurt.
“Aww,” you pout, giggling as you walk up to him and pinch his cheek—Milo cuddled in one arm. He’s perplexed, for sure, but he doesn’t reject this affection at all. Hell, he likes it for sure. “My pretty Jay is jealous.”
He scoffs, not knowing how to reply. His snarkiness is wiped. How embarrassing. He felt his cheeks flushing and eyebrows cinching. God, this was embarrassing. You’re kind of embarrassing. He wants it no other way, though. “No, I’m not? I did not say anything like—”
“It’s okaaaay,” you hum, swaying on your feet as you put Milo back on the floor. You pull his cheeks and sway each other back and forth. “You’ll always be my number one.”
He feels a kiss on his cheek, and his body pulls him back to look at it. It has its own mind that is disposed of you at this point.
The faint smell of your citrus shampoo is less notable. It’s been slowly replaced by the eternal fuzzy dog smell Milo, like any other dog, holds. He doesn’t hate it. Although he loves your usual scent, this is nice too. 
“What do you think?” You ask, breaking the silence one more. He sees the way your shoulders freeze a little and the way your eyebrows worriedly pull up. “Do you think he’s cute, or—”
“I think Milo is very lively. Very energetic. I like him.” Jason assures you with a hand holding your face, thumb caressing the cheek. “I’m just worried that it would take a toll on—”
“I know, I know,” you sigh. “I got this, though! You know how long I’ve been preparing for this.”
And he does. He’s seen you do the research. He’s seen you visit the shelter multiple times. He’s seen you saving up the money for the puppy—including food, vaccines, medicine, toys, and whatever things you fear the dog may need. He’s seen it all, and he questions why he’s even doubting you.
You’re smart. You’re strong. He comes to the conclusion, though, that he still holds the position to worry. He believes in it. At the end of the day, your safety and comfort is his responsibility.
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You two are walking Milo—or, rather, you are; Jason’s just more than happy to accompany you.
He declines your many offers to hold his leash. He fears losing something that means so much to you or hurting him with a simple tug because of his sheer strength. He’s calculated, sure, but he’s not cut for this simple life. He knows roughly how much it would take him to bring down a squad of armed men, but he does not know when a batter is over or undermixed.
You don’t know that, though. It’ll stay that way, he thinks.
“I think this is it.” Your voice snaps Jason out of his thoughts. He looks at you and sees that you’re radiating, no, buzzing in excitement when you spot the sign that says, ‘dog park. “Here, Milo!”
You step inside the fenced area, and the puppy is more than eager to explore the new territory. Unclasping the leash from his collar, you give him a kiss on his snout before he runs to the pack of dogs—some big, some small.
He sees your caution that borders on uneasiness, watching if the dogs are friendly to him or not. 
“He’s adorable,” he says to break the tension, watching him play with his friends.
The worry on your face is lessened as you look at him. “Well, they do say that pets look like their owners.”
“Mmm, I see it,” he hums, pulling you closer by the chin and giving you a peck on the lips.
 “You really think so?” You bury yourself to his side. Your skin is an awful lot colder than his. He supposes, though, that it's just his body. That it simply overheats.
“Mhm.” He nods, pulling you impossibly closer to him with your head tucked right under his chin.
“Aw, thank you.”  The two of you stand like that for a few minutes.
Jason thinks it's sweet. He feels a foreign tenderness that’s only known to you. He’s learned to like it.
This feeling brings him close enough for him to imagine a family with you. The two of you are parents, and Milo is a son—your son. 
Too soon? His eye twitches as he sweeps the dream under the rug.
“Jay, look!” You grinned, pointing to Milo and some other dogs.
He’s surrounded by a pack of dogs, but they are clearly far from fighting. He definitely is an outgoing pet, something he probably got from you—or would get if-, yeah.
“I’m glad he’s getting along well. For a second, I was worried that the dogs would be hostile towards him.” 
“I don’t any man or dog could be angry at him. He’s too cute to be mad at.”
You nod, resting your head on his shoulder. “I totally agree.”
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Jason is sitting by your kitchen island figuring out a jigsaw puzzle you got him when he hears you giggle uncontrollably.
“Milo, Miiiilooo,” You cooed, cuddling the puppy closer and closer to your face. He licks your face, teeth faintly grazing the tip of your nose. You’re only giddy about it. “I love you.”
It’s right then and there, after that interaction, where everything clicks: Jason realizes he does not want, or rather cannot, be with anyone else.
Ever so gentle and ever so kind, you are. It only shines through with how much heart you can and do pour into this puppy. No matter how many shoes he tears through, the rolls of tissues he makes a mess out of, and the times he’s chewed through your hair, it seems that your love is always bountiful and dedicated.
He realized how shallow this sounds. Maybe it’s just the way he was raised. To be grateful for any semblance of gift you had.
“Darling,” he calls out.
“Yes?” You answer, lying on the floor while petting Milo.
“I love you.”
Jason thinks that he wants to be more than welcoming to the small creature. Getting a dog might be a good idea.
Certainly, you seem confused, and he’s almost scared that you’ll reject it. He knows that that won’t be the case (or, at least, he listens to you tell him that).
“I love you too, Jay-love,” you smile.
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the-boy-meets-evil · 3 months
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34.6037° S, 58.3816° W | jww
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(your latest assignment has you jetting off to argentina hoping to finally catch the infamous art thief that's escaped your agency one too many times already. you know what's at stake if you lose your focus. enter the beautiful stranger that has you questioning everything you know.)
pairing: jeon wonwoo x f.reader genre: strangers to lovers, (kinda, v light) enemies to lovers | smut, fluff, angst rating: explicit, minors DNI word count: ~22.8k (idk what happened) warnings: art thief!wonwoo, secret agent!reader, brief mentions of death & bloody past (again, reader is a secret agent), mentions of past violence, mentions of weapons, food, drinking, VERY ambiguous ending smut warnings: multiple smut scenes, multiple positions, unprotected sex (don't do this), slightly rough sex, mild dom!wonwoo?, fingering, oral sex, choking, spanking, multiple orgasms, squirting, light marking, semi-public sex, food play (whipped cream, chocolate), i think that's it
a/n: this is for @svthub's world tour collab (check out the other fics here). i had so much fun writing this even if it got away from me a bit. thanks to @effortandmore for lending me her art brain. thanks to @highvern for constantly listening to me and @multi-kpop-fanfics for fit inspo. and as always, thank you to my bby @wongyuseokie for the banner & divider.
edited to add: i am considering an epilogue if that’s something anyone is interested in
tag list: @wonustars, @minisugakoobies, @crepecakeu, @tinyelfperson, @dokyeomkyeom, @amoryeonjun, @miriamxsworld, @hongrizoon, @gyuminusone, @aaniag, @naajaeminsgf, @straykidswhoo789, @kimseokgen, @beomesbabe, @haolistic, @vanishingboots, @babybae-shisui, @pyeonghongrie-main, @nuttywastelandmentality, @writingbarnes, @tomodachiii, @gyuhao365, @jjin-kun, @sdoulc, @wonwootakemyheart, @divinityyyy, @nightshadeinmoonlight, @imma-queencard, @jelly-n
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“We’ll be landing in about 45 minutes, according to the pilot,” a voice says, interrupting your laser-like focus.
You look up from your tablet and blink at him for a second. It takes you a moment or two to register he’s even standing there. Another moment to register what he actually said to you a second ago. In the meantime, you switch the program open on your tablet.
“Oh, thanks,” you say in response. 
He sits down in the seat opposite you and fixes you with a smile. “Must be a good book, you’ve barely looked up for the entire flight.” 
“Guilty,” you say with a practiced smile. 
Chan, you think that’s his name, seems nice enough. A little overeager and too ready to agree to something when his bosses tell him what to do. There’s that real thirst to prove himself. But, at least from what you hear, he’s got a bright future. He’s done well with what he’s been given so far, which are increasingly difficult assignments. You can see why. He’s easy on the eyes and he’s got that soft smile down. The kind of unassuming smile that makes people want to trust him. If he can keep it up, he’ll go far. 
“Thanks again for letting me catch a ride,” you say to fill some of the space between you. 
Chan only shrugs. “Any friend of Mr. Choi’s is always welcome. Plus, nobody really says no when the boss says something.”
A lesser person would have probably laughed at that. Hearing him referred to as Mr. Choi and the boss is a little comical to you. Not that it isn’t true because he is definitely Chan’s boss. It’s just, well, it’s a little more complicated than that. 
“Honestly I don’t really even understand what Cheol does,” you lie and turn on a little bit of the charm. It’s always good to practice on people that are trained to be charming themselves. 
“Do you call him that?” Chan wonders.
“Call him what? Cheol?” you ask and Chan nods, eyes a little wide. It catches him just off guard enough. “Yeah, but I’ve known him for years. What do you call him?”
“Sir, usually,” Chan answers too quickly. You can’t fully fight the smile that answer brings to your lips. “Glad to see I entertained you.” 
“He’s not nearly as bad as I’m sure he seems at work,” you say like you’re sharing a secret.
The truth is that you’ve been hearing about this new agent that Seungcheol is personally training for over a year now. So, you know that eventually, you’re going to all be laughing at this conversation in hindsight and he’ll also be calling his boss Cheol. For now, though, things are a little bit different. 
“He mentioned that you were heading down to do some research?” he asks and you nod. 
This part has always been a little tedious to you, the part where you come up with a cover story that you even have to feed to other people within the same organization. It’s been this way for your entire career. You were recruited at 18 years old and went through special training along with obtaining a degree. The Agency had two divisions, but you only ever learned about the second one if you were recruited to work there. It was that second division you joined right away. 
Training had been grueling. If it wasn’t some kind of physical endurance training, it was sitting in a windowless room studying history or a foreign language. Or it was combat training with whatever weapon was on deck that day. Or working to blend into any situation. You quickly learned that did not mean not being memorable. At least not in every situation. Sometimes that meant looking at ease in your surroundings even if eyes were on you. Thankfully, the charm seemed to come naturally to you and that was one less thing you had to worry about learning. 
The Agency officially works in maintaining international relationships between countries. That can mean a number of different things. Sometimes it involves an agent or team heading out to a location as official representatives. They can help with negotiation, security concerns, smoothing out issues, anything really. Unofficially, it often involves going undercover on a mission. That can involve either division, depending on the sensitivity of the mission. If it’s simpler, then someone like Chan gets sent out to work his way into a situation and influence the outcome so that everything stays calm. In fact, he’s here to charm a wealthy heiress that’s getting a little too close to revealing confidential information on government contracts. 
You, on the other hand, are officially here to study Argentinian culture and immerse yourself in local traditions. Chan doesn’t know that you work for The Agency as well. He doesn’t know that Seungcheol is like a boss to you. It’s not his preference. Seungcheol misses the days when he was by your side in the field instead of stuck in the office behind a desk. Unfortunately, several years ago he suffered a severe injury that just made field work impossible for him. It took a lot of convincing, most of which fell on your shoulders as the person closest to him, to get him to transition to his current role. Where you had never set foot in the main offices, he had been there periodically. He was known to people there. And he was so insanely smart that you pointed out he would be bored trying to assimilate into regular life. Why not get to do one of his other favorite things and tell younger agents (or even older ones) what to do? That had been the biggest selling point because he was good at being in charge. It had been a bit of a rocky transition at first, but now it’s smooth sailing. 
Unofficially, you’re here tracking one of the most infamous art thieves in the world. This is the kind of thing that has to be handled with the utmost secrecy. Other agencies and your own have tried to track him down and apprehend him only to have him slip into the wind. If you had to hazard a guess, you’d assume that there had been leaks during the previous attempts. You’ve also considered that he’s just really good at making a mark and blending into his surroundings. This is one of the most secretive missions you’ve ever been sent on despite seeming relatively innocuous. How much harm can an art thief really cause, right? Except, The Agency is largely funded by private investors and several of those investors have been victims and had art stolen. Despite that, the only people that know you’re making this attempt now are Seungcheol and the head of covert operations. His counterpart doesn’t know that you’re handling it, or even who you are. Instead, the main division of The Agency has a team headed to Amsterdam thinking that they’re after the notorious thief. 
Although it seems like it should be straight forward, this thief has been working in the shadows for years without anyone really knowing what he looks like beyond him being a man. The reports about what he actually looks like vary so greatly that nobody really knows what to believe. You and Seungcheol have spent months trying to put together a profile that seems most realistic and you feel as comfortable as you can. His appearance seems a little elusive, but the information that he’s going to be in Buenos Aires is the best lead you’ve gotten. It comes from someone that you worked with on a previous mission. You had been studying your profiles when Chan came over and quickly exited to a different application. 
“I am. I’m working on understanding the history of Argentinian culture through the eyes of Buenos Aires for a project,” you say with all the affection of someone who was actually going to be doing that. “I’m going to spend most of my time just out talking to people, learning their stories, that kind of thing.”
“Do you, uh, speak Spanish?” Chan wonders with clear apprehension. 
“I do,” you say with a light laugh. “Be a bit awkward if I didn’t, right?” 
“That’s impressive,” he says. 
“I speak several languages,” you say nonchalantly and then make a show of catching his eye. “I studied language and culture in university.” 
“You’re not what I’d imagine for one of my boss’s friends,” Chan admits. “Especially one close enough to get added to the manifest.” 
You shrug. “I’ve known him for a long time.” 
“He doesn’t strike me as someone with a lot of time for friendships or someone that you can ever really know,” Chan presses and you laugh.
“Married to the job, right?” you agree. “I’m a low maintenance friend. I spend a lot of time out of town for research, immersed in local culture. We’ve probably got more in common that you’d think.” 
“That makes a lot of sense,” he concedes, seeming to easily buy your cover. He stands up. “I’ll let you get back to your reading.”
The rest of the flight goes smoothly and you say your goodbyes to Chan and the others from the flight once you get off the plane. As is the plan, you take your suitcases to a local taxi and head to your hotel, checking in under one of the many fake names you used when on a mission. The room is nice, too, even if it’s nothing all that extravagant. It’s just another part of the cover. 
Since it’s been a long day, you figure that you might as well just order room service and settle in for the night. It’ll give you the chance to start getting your body used to the local timezone. Not that your body really has a home timezone anymore with how you’re constantly on the move. But, you still don’t mind the idea of resting for the night. 
You’re incredibly thankful to be in Buenos Aires in July since it’s the coolest month. It makes it easier for you to just walk everywhere. Before leaving your room for your first full day in your new city, you double check your messenger bag to make sure everything is in there: camera, multiple lenses,  journal, tablet and keyboard, sunglasses, wallet, and all your little bits to make it look like a bag you wear all the time. You smile at the receptionist on your way out, letting her know that you’re going off to explore what the city has to offer. She seems happy to see that you look better rested than after your long travel day. Even if heading out is mostly a cover for your mission, it’s also a little true. This city has been on your bucket list to visit for years and you’re not going to waste what might be your only opportunity to explore. It might even make it more believable as you’re trying to blend into the crowds around you.
After spending several hours wandering around and taking in everything you could, you find yourself at a local cafe in the early afternoon to have a cup of coffee and a light lunch. The whole morning flew by in a rush of colors and culture. It’s so easy to be interested in everything that’s before you because it’s just so vibrant. So full of life. Such a juxtaposition of history, tradition, and new influences. It’s one of the first times you’ve been somewhere and had to remind yourself that you are actually on a mission. You’re not just there to sightsee and fall in love. 
There are a lot of tourists in the cafe, which doesn’t really surprise you. Most places in Buenos Aires stay open during the afternoon for tourism, but you know that cafes in smaller towns would close. You figure that most locals probably avoid shops during this time of day as well. It feels lucky when you spot an open table in the corner until another patron moves and you see there’s actually someone sitting in one of the seats. It’s an uncharacteristically awkward moment for you, especially given how confident you are with everything else, that he catches you mid-decision. His eyes meet yours before looking at the coffee in one hand and the plate in the other. When he looks back down at the table, it clicks into place before you can turn around. 
“You, uh, can sit…” he starts with deliberate slowness that shouldn’t be throwing you off even more. 
You shake your head to clear it and smile. “It’s fine, I don’t just speak Spanish.” 
“Oh,” he says with a breath of relief. “Well, you can sit here.” 
“I don’t want to intrude,” you say and go to turn around.
“It’s busy. Are you going to just eat standing up?” he asks with a challenging raise of his eyebrow. 
“Well,” you start.
“I probably won’t be here much longer anyway,” he offers.
Reluctantly, you move to sit down with him. It’s kind of insane the way he’s thrown you off your game by just existing. Usually, you’re the one that’s disarming strangers with your charm, not the other way around. As soon as you sit down, he looks back at the book he has open in front of him. It gives you a chance to figure out if he’s actually that attractive that it’s thrown you off or if you’re still just jet-lagged. 
His glasses slide down a nearly too perfect nose and he pushes them up without missing a beat. His black hair is a little messy and a little long, falling carelessly around his face as he gets lost in whatever book he has open in front of him. His clothes make him look a little too fancy to be sitting in a cafe overrun with tourists like this. Somehow, he makes a cardigan over a dress shirt with nice, pressed slacks work without looking like he’s trying too hard. Everything about him just exudes calm, confident energy. Like the kind of person you would assume comes from old money. Unassuming, yet standing out without even meaning to. It reminds you of some of the landmarks you saw that morning, like rich history perfectly combined with modern needs. 
Thankfully, at least some of your training kicks back in and you manage to keep it from being too obvious that you’re one step away from fully checking him out. Your new tablemate seems content to sit in silence, though, so you pick at your food while going through some of the pictures on your camera. Today is about getting the lay of the land as much as anything else. It’s not like you can just find your infamous art thief without knowing where to look. 
“I’m sure you got some great shots,” he says, drawing your attention again. When you look up, his eyes are on your camera. 
“Oh, yeah, it’s so hard to really capture the feeling of something through a camera, but I definitely try,” you say.
“I saw you at The Obelisk and I thought, I’ve never seen someone so focused in my entire life,” he says, except now he’s looking at you.
“There must have been thousands of people there. How did you pick me out?” you ask with a laugh. 
The mystery man shrugs. “Like I said, you were focused. And not in the way a lot of influencers who travel for the perfect picture are. I knew that it was more than that for you.” 
“It is,” you agree. “I’m studying the history and the culture down here. Just got in last night.” 
“Can I see the picture you landed on?” he ventures. 
You hesitate. Your pictures are good, sure, but you’re not actually doing anything that serious when you’re down here. Since it’s supposed to be part of your cover, you should feel confident. After a moment, you hand your camera over to him with your favorite picture in the display window. 
“Be kind. My focus is language and history first, not photography,” you toss out. Another layer to the cover. It’s convenient, though. Not that you expected to be talking to someone like him about photography.
“This is amazing,” he says and seems earnest. “Can I look through the rest?”
Again, you pretend to consider. This time it’s for the sake of the persona you’re committing to. It’s not like there’s anything on there from before today since it’s a fresh SD card. 
“I promise to be kind,” he presses and you roll your eyes.
“Fine,” you say and he smiles. 
It’s hard not to notice the amount of care he uses while handling your camera. Maybe he knows something about photography and realizes it’s an expensive model. Or maybe he’s just gentle with something that clearly means a lot to someone else. It’s also easier to feel like you can appreciate things about him when his attention is somewhere else. Like he won’t notice the way your eyes map his features, noting the furrow in his brows or how smooth his skin is. Or the way his hair seems absolutely perfect without any product in it. None of it seems fair that he should just get to walk around looking like that.
“I’m surprised not to find a picture of myself on here,” he starts and it pulls you from your thoughts. There’s a moment where you wonder if he’s secretly self-centered, until you meet his eyes and see the glint there. “You know, with how you’ve been studying me.” 
“I appreciate beauty wherever I see it,” you answer, trying to channel more boldness than you feel. 
“Are you saying I’m beautiful?” he questions, entirely too at-ease. 
“I don’t think you need confirmation on that,” you scoff and look out the window. “Besides, it wasn’t me that noticed you earlier.” 
“A shame for me,” he muses. “I appreciate beautiful things as well.”
He hands your camera back with his eyes locked on you. It makes your skin feel a little flushed and you hate it. Hate that you’re always able to keep your cool in any situation and still so completely disarmed by this man. Hate that it’s him that breaks the moment, too, when he looks down at the expensive watch on his wrist with a sigh.
“Late for something?” you venture. 
“Something like that,” he agrees and puts his book away in a bag you hadn’t noticed. “I’m glad you sat down though.” 
“Me too,” you admit a little too quickly as he’s standing up.
“Enjoy your afternoon, beautiful stranger,” he says and you twist around.
“Wait, I didn’t get your name,” you call and he stops by the door. The smile he throws your way sends a tingle down your spine.
“I hope we’ll run into each other again, then,” he says.
And just like that, he’s gone. Slips into the crowd like he wasn’t even there in the first place. It makes you wonder, just for a second, if the entire exchange actually happened. Until you look back at the table and see the cup of coffee he had been drinking. Beside it, you notice a small piece of paper advertising a new installation at one of the local art museums. Not entirely out of the question, you think, for someone visiting this city and also interested in seeing your camera.
It’s then that you remind yourself why you’re actually here. You shake your head to clear it of any thoughts of the stranger, knowing you can’t make any effort to run into him again. The mission is the only thing that matters. Getting close to someone that could distract you in that way is not part of the plan. So, you can appreciate the banter and get back on track.
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The next few days pass relatively uneventfully. You continue to explore the city while always keeping your eyes and ears open for any indication of the art thief. It’s a little frustrating to not have much to go on, but you’re also one of the most patient agents and you know it’ll pay off eventually. Seungcheol keeps in regular contact, sending along each new nugget of information he’s able to find. Even if they’re seemingly insignificant, you file them all away, appreciating how hard you know he’s working given how few people know about the mission. He has to pull the relevant pieces to send to you without tipping off the team in Amsterdam. 
You’re also splitting your days. Making sure to get out to experience the local culture to maintain your cover, while spending just as much time locked away in your room so that you can do your own research. Everything points to him already being in the city as well. It also seems like this next heist might be two-fold for him. It appears that he’s got a client that wants a specific piece of art and that he’s also going to steal some pieces for himself to sell at later dates. It’s a bit unusual, from what you’ve been able to tell. He usually likes to keep each job simple to reduce the likelihood of getting caught. Then again, he’s been active for years and doing just fine. 
Today you decide to go to check out a museum that you’ve been putting off. It’s silly, but you didn’t want to show up there the day after that cafe since it seemed a little convenient to leave behind. You have to familiarize yourself with all the museums in the city, though, and it seems like this one could be your thief’s target. It has just the right amount of traffic. Just the right combination of popular pieces with lesser known artists. 
Once you’re there, you immediately move away from the popular sections. That’s not the kind of art you’re after because it’s not the kind of art the thief ever steals. It’s too recognizable. Too hard to move. Just too risky. Once you’re in a quieter part of the museum, you fight off any feelings of being a fraud. Art has never really been your strong suit. If it weren’t for this mission being so sensitive, you definitely would not be the first agent anyone would choose. But, it is sensitive and so you have to rely on your training to carry you through any conversations that might pop up. You have to rely on the hours spent pouring over lectures about the different styles and influences, the different periods, different techniques. Hopefully your talent at rote memorization will serve you well. 
“It’s a shame they keep one of the best artists tucked away in a corner like this,” a voice says from your side, pulling you from your thoughts. 
You answer without even thinking much about the voice or even turning to see the person who appeared next to you nearly soundlessly. “Makes it easier to appreciate in peace, though.” 
“You like surrealism, then?” he asks and it’s only then that you notice something familiar about the voice or the manner of speaking. Or the fact that he’s not speaking to you in Spanish. 
Before you even turn to your side, you know who you’re going to find. He’s looking just as put together and at-ease as he did several days ago in the cafe. His hands rest in his pockets, but his eyes on you are sharp. There’s something a little hard to read about him, you think. 
The smile you give him is practiced, designed to seem genuine. “I like Leonor Fini.” 
“You’ve got good taste,” he says and turns back to the piece. 
“I do like surrealism,” you carry on, turning back to the piece yourself as well, “but, with her work, I really appreciate the way she used female subjects through a female lens. Too many artists…”
You trail off, pretending you’re unsure if you should continue. He falls into the setup easily. “Men could only show female subjects through their own eyes, but women look different through the eyes of other women.” 
“Exactly,” you say and smile at him before turning back to the painting again. “There’s something so captivating about the work she did.” 
“I agree. That’s why this is my favorite piece here and in my favorite section of works,” he says confidently. 
“You already have a favorite?” you joke.
“Well, I’ve been here every day for the past several days,” he shares.
This makes you turn to him fully. “Because you love this section and this work so much?” 
This mysterious man actually looks down like he’s embarrassed to admit whatever he’s about to tell you. Like he’s gotten shy for a moment. “I do, but I was actually hoping to run into you.” 
That catches you a bit off guard and it takes your brain a minute to remember, once again, you’re here on a mission. “It would have been easier to run into me if you just asked for my number.” 
“Kind of ruins this whole mysterious thing I have going on, though,” he shrugs. 
You roll your eyes and extend your hand, giving him your fake name for the mission. His eyes sparkle for a second before he takes your hand. 
“Wonwoo,” he answers.
“Nice to finally get your name,” you tease.
“I figured you’d come check out the museum when I left the card there at the cafe,” Wonwoo says. 
“I knew that was on purpose,” you mumble.
“Yet you didn’t come until today,” he observes.
“I wasn’t trying to make it easy on you,” you throw out quickly.
“Okay, time to switch tactics, then,” he says. “Can I take you to dinner tonight?” 
“I’m not sure, can you?” you ask.
“Please let me take you to dinner,” he says.
It’s a bad idea and you know it. Everything about him screams distraction. This isn’t what you’re in Buenos Aires to do. Yet, there’s something about him that has you curious. There’s also the fact that this museum seems to be the most likely target for the art thief and this man admitted he’s been here every day. A small part of your brain is sending up alarm signals to keep an eye on him. He doesn’t seem like a secret art thief, but hasn’t your training taught you how to hide in plain sight? It’s entirely possible he’s doing the same.
Your brain goes into overdrive as it often does on missions. There are a million little details in the pages of your profile on the art thief. They come flooding back to you. The profile so thoughtfully pieced together by The Agency says he’s probably unassuming. The kind of man that fits into any situation in the same way as you do, like he’s not trying to fit in and it means he doesn’t stand out as not belonging. The profile suggests that he’s confident. That he would appear calm. Most importantly, he’s the kind of person that would absolutely look at home in the midst of art. So, whether it’s a good idea or not, you know you’re going to say yes. He must see the answer in your eyes before you voice it because he smirks. 
“What time?” 
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Wonwoo offers to pick you up at your hotel, but you insist that you’ll meet him at the restaurant. It’s safer that way, after all, being a woman traveling alone. At least that’s what you tell him. Not that anything about Wonwoo seems that threatening and you’re better equipped to handle yourself than most. You just don’t need him anywhere near your room even with everything put away. After going back to get ready, you made time to pour over the information you have. The more you consider it, the more it seems plausible that he could be exactly who you’re looking for. There’s only one issue: he asked you out. Everything you have suggests that he made agents in the past and slipped into the wind. You’re not cocky enough to think you’re too good to fall victim to the same fate. You keep your update to Seungcheol vague in case the lead doesn’t pan out. 
Surprisingly, Wonwoo picks a nice place off the beaten path for dinner. It’s not overrun with tourists and it’s not too expensive. Like him, it’s unassuming but quietly impressive. You try not to let your heart skip a beat when you see him in a simple white dress shirt and black dress pants. He stands to pull your seat out for you and then settles back into his seat across from you. This is for the sake of the mission. Either he’s the person you’re looking for or you’ll have enjoyed a free and tasty meal. Nothing more to it. 
His Spanish, it turns out, isn’t that great and so you help him through ordering since it’s definitely a place more for the locals. Or maybe it’s just an excuse to get your help. You’re not really sure you mind either way. He makes suggestions about which wines he prefers, but ultimately lets you pick, insisting that he will take care of whatever you land on. Once you get through ordering and all the small talk, it gives you a chance to really get to know him.
“Have you been here before?” you ask.
“This restaurant or this city?” he asks.
“Either,” you shrug.
“No to both,” he answers. “Clearly, my Spanish is a bit rusty. I’m so lucky that I found someone who’s so fluent.” 
“I’m not sure I believe you can’t speak the language,” you muse.
“I can speak enough Spanish to get by, but it’s not that good,” he assures you. 
“Interesting place to visit, then,” you observe.
“I’d miss out on a lot of beauty if I only went where I spoke the language fluently,” he retorts and you smile genuinely at that. He’s right. 
“Like the art in the museum?” you suggest.
“Or a charming stranger,” he counters. You’re impressed. “I do like the art as well, though.” 
“What other beautiful places have you visited?” you ask.
“Oh, I hardly think it’s that interesting,” he dismisses.
“Humor me,” you say. 
There’s a moment where he’s careful in listing off places. Like he’s weighing something that you can’t really place. He ends up listing some places that catch your attention. Each of them has some wonderful art museums and it piques your curiosity. You try to look just politely interested, commenting on how he’s lucky to be able to travel as extensively as he seems to. He plays it off with a vague comment about being fortunate with help from his family. It’s the kind of thing that you know passes on a first date. It’s not appropriate to mention money on a first date. So, that would be fine, if it didn’t also make you curious about who this man really was. After all, your art thief being well connected through family would definitely make sense.
Throughout the rest of the dinner, you try to enjoy it. Not that it’s hard to do. Wonwoo is actually a lot of fun to be around. The conversation flows easily and you’re able to connect on a lot of shared interests. At least, interests that you pretend to have for the sake of this mission. But, it feels like he might also be pretending on some of his interests. He’s just a little too calm and put together. A little too quick with his answers. A little too rehearsed with his comments. Maybe you wouldn’t think twice if you weren’t doing the same. 
By the time you finish the main course, you’re pretty sure that you managed to stumble into a date with the exact person that you’re here looking for based on his stories. It may have been a guess before. It feels nearly for sure  now. He mentions how you have to visit Japan when the cherry blossoms are blooming, which sounds stunning. He mentions Oktoberfest in Munich and how he barely remembers anything from that trip. Then there's the ice festival in China, Nordlysfestivalen in Norway, and a few other locations that sound beautiful. They also have one thing in common. Each place is also on your list for stolen art around the time of the events. 
Once you finish dessert, you’re making a decision that you know you should really clear with someone else before making. Sure, you’re pretty sure that Wonwoo is the art thief. And yes, it’s true that keeping an eye on him is in your best interest. One way to do that is to continue with the date. Yet, you’re not stopping to check in with Seungcheol. You’re not analyzing the pros and cons of doing this. After giving Seungcheol a vague update about a lead and promising you’ll have more information later on, he should be the first person you call. He’s not swept up in the atmosphere of a foreign city with a gorgeous stranger. No, you don’t do any of that. You’re just agreeing to go back to his room with him without a second thought. He’s painfully hot and you’re incredibly attracted to him, which is wildly unprofessional. But, you’re not sure you care. At least for the night. You can figure it all out later.
Wonwoo is quietly confident without being cocky. His gaze is so penetrating that it feels like he’s undressing you without it being slimy. He can hold a conversation about seemingly anything, but he’s also just as interested in what you have to say. In fact, you have his attention the whole night, regardless of anything else going on. It’s a little overwhelming to have someone so focused on you. But, when it feels a little overwhelming, he makes a perfectly timed, slightly sarcastic joke that makes you laugh harder than you should. The smile you wear all throughout the date is genuine. You’re actually enjoying yourself so much that you’re not sure you want it to end. Life has never felt so simultaneously complicated and easy.
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Wonwoo’s lips are hot on yours as he cages you against the door of his hotel room. That intensity you saw all dinner reappears and you feel like you might burn under his touch. He’s so in control. You’re still not entirely sure how you wound up here, but you’re not really trying to think too hard about it. The fact that he’s almost definitely the art thief becomes an issue for future-you the second he kisses you like it’s your last day on Earth. It’s not like he knows you’re tracking his movements and it isn’t exactly a bad thing to keep a closer eye on him. Nor is it the first time you’ve done something like this. It is the first time you’ve done it without thought, though, and genuinely been interested in the man you let seduce you.
He has his body pressed against yours with his arms on either side of you so there really is nowhere to go. It’s kind of hot and you’re not even pretending to be turned on. A definite bonus. Your hands quickly undo his belt so that you can pull the edges of his shirt out. The moment your hands make contact with his skin, he pulls away and hisses. They’re likely cold, not that you care. It gives you the chance to catch his lower lip between your teeth. You watch his eyes darken with lust as you run your hands up his back, scratching down lightly. 
“Just who do you think is in control here, baby?” His voice is so low in your ear that it makes you swallow hard. Everything about the endearment sounds sarcastic and it shouldn’t work, but you’re only human. Then he nips at your earlobe and you actually moan. 
“What are you going to do about it?” you challenge. It feels like a lot of heat between you. If your head were clearer, you might consider that it feels like two people who know they shouldn’t be fucking. Almost like he’s punishing you a little, which he might want to, given why you’re here.
“That’s a dangerous question,” he warns you. 
“Afraid I can’t handle it?” you ask and watch the way it nearly breaks his composure. You press forward into him, pulling him down so his ear is by your mouth now. Barely raise your voice above a whisper. “I’m not that fragile. I can handle a little pain.” 
That seems to set him off. You’re worried for a second when he pulls away, but that disappears as you watch his nimble fingers rapidly undoing the buttons on his shirt. He casts it aside and looks back at you. 
“I want you stripped naked and on the bed,” he commands. 
You’re not typically in the habit of taking commands but something about him makes you want to listen. Even if you want to challenge him a little. He turns his back and you do strip down. Mostly. You climb onto the bed wearing only your panties, legs spread open and waiting for him. When he turns around, you miss the flare of his nostrils at your defiance looking at his muscles. For someone so unassuming, he was certainly in good shape. 
“Is this your idea of naked?” he questions.
It’s funny, since he’s still got his boxer briefs on, though they leave little to the imagination. You can already see that he’s getting hard from the lead up. 
“I thought I’d leave that honor for you,” you say, injecting as much innocence as you can muster into every word.
Wonwoo looks at you for another long second before climbing onto the bed and getting between your legs. He pushes them further open and you bite down on your lip. 
“You don’t get to muffle those moans from me, sweetheart,” he teases, running a hand up the inside of your thigh.
“Or what?” you challenge again.
He raises an eyebrow at you and pulls his hand away from your thigh. You’re about to whine when he brings it back in a sharp slap. 
“Shit,” you hiss. 
“You liked that, didn’t you?” he asks. You nod with big eyes. “Use your words.”
“Fuck, yes, I liked it,” you rush out the second his finger traces a light line up your clothed cunt. 
“I can tell,” he snarks. “Just tell me if it’s too much.”
“It won’t be,” you insist. He pulls his hand away and looks at you surprisingly soft for a second.
“Tell me if it is,” he repeats.
“I will,” you promise. 
“Good,” he says and hooks his fingers inside the band of your panties, pulling them down your legs and casting them aside in one motion. “That’s better.” 
In another surprise, Wonwoo doesn’t dive right into your cunt the way you expect him to given how frenzied everything has been so far. Instead, he trails kisses from your knee up your inner thigh. Pausing occasionally to nip into the skin before running his tongue over the mark to soothe it. You’re writhing on the bed by the time his breath ghosts across your cunt. The chuckle is low and deep as you squirm when he moves to your other thigh. You’re going to die before he even touches you. 
“Jesus fuck, Wonwoo, if you don’t start eating me out…” you start, a hand winding into his hair.
He pops up and glares at you. “You’ll what? Did you already forget who’s in charge?” 
“I’ll…” you start, before cutting off with a sharp, “FUCK!”
He’s still got his eyes on you when his thumb runs quickly through your folds to press against your clit. There’s barely any movement but it anchors you in place. “That’s what I thought.” 
His kisses up your other thigh are much sloppier with a thumb still in place. It only makes you squirm more, searching for some kind of relief. When he finally gets to your lips, you expect he’s going to tease you again. You’re wrong. Again. His tongue dives into your pussy while his other hand keeps you spread open. This man knows what he’s doing and it’s immediately more than you’re expecting. You can’t stop your legs from snapping closed to box him in. That is, until he pulls his hands off you to spread your legs wide again, giving him the best access to you. It’s clear that he’s in charge and he wants you to know it. 
It’s everything you can do not to thrash around, but Wonwoo seems to be ready to help there. He’s got a hand on your stomach anchoring you down to the bed. You’re not even sure how he’s got enough hands to move them along your body the way he seems to. Without warning, he moves his mouth up to pay attention to your clit. And he doesn’t give you a break, sliding two fingers into you and immediately scissoring them open. He sets a brutal pace, curling his fingers to hit you where he seems to know you need him on some of the passes. 
“Fuck, Wonwoo, oh my god, fuck,” you scream out.
“You gonna come for me, baby?” he sneers at you from between your legs.
“Yes, fuck,” you moan. “Your fingers, oh my god.” 
“You’re so fucking tight,” he groans.
In the next moment, you’re coming so hard you squirt over those amazing fingers of his. Your vision whites out around the edges and your toes are curling. It’s all you can do to catch your breath as Wonwoo’s fingers pump through the high. 
“I don’t remember the last time I came that hard,” you admit.
“We’re not done yet,” he shares and the tone of his voice has you nearly clenching your legs together. “Turn over. Get on your hands and knees.” 
“So bossy,” you say with a roll of your eyes. You turn over anyway, though, and put your ass in the air. 
“This is a really good fucking view,” he says. You feel the bed dip when he gets back in place after removing his boxers. 
Wonwoo has one hand on your hip and the other is running up your back to press you down further. To help you get that perfect arch of your back. You wiggle your ass at him and are rewarded with a stinging smack. Your moan is muffled by the pillow, so you turn your head to the side. Already know he wants to hear you. When he smacks your other ass check, you nearly scream out.
“That’s it, I want to hear you,” he encourages. 
“Please, Wonwoo, just fuck me already,” you beg. 
“One orgasm wasn’t enough?” he asks and you can hear the cockiness in his voice. Bringing a ringing smack down on your ass again. You scream out at the sting. 
“No, I want you to split me open,” you whine. In any other situation you might be embarrassed by the admission, but not now. Not with him. Not when it’s so clearly turning him on. 
“Greedy little thing,” he comments. His fingers press into your cunt again and you nearly yelp. 
There’s no time to adjust when Wonwoo removes his fingers and immediately lines himself up at your entrance. With one snap of his hips, he’s fully inside you and you’re hissing. He’s bigger than you were guessing, even with the outline in his boxers. And he doesn’t give you a break as he starts fucking you hard. All you can hear is the sound of his skin slapping against yours and the mingled moans from both of you. You’re sensitive from both the pace and the earlier orgasm. Your legs feel like they would collapse under you if they could. 
As if the pace isn’t enough, Wonwoo snakes an arm around you to reach for your clit, rubbing circles into it at the same pace as his thrusts. You can tell he’s nowhere near close, but you’re about to lose control again and you’re not sure how to stop it.
“Fuck, Wonwoo, slower, I’m going to - fuck!” you whine out. 
“You gonna come again? So soon, baby?” he taunts. 
“I can’t - fuck, please,” you beg. “I’m so close.” 
“I want you to  make a mess of my dick the same way you made a mess of my fingers,” Wonwoo directs. 
“But you haven’t…” you start and Wonwoo removes his hand from your clit. You cry out at the loss until his other hand grabs your hair to yank you back against his chest. When it’s clear you’re not going to move, his hand moves from your hair to your throat.
“I want you to come for me. Right now. Show me how good I feel inside that tight pussy,” he directs.
It’s one of the most surprising reactions, the way your body immediately responds to him. He’s got you coming just as hard as the first time and he doesn’t give you a chance to second guess any of it. As the shocks rip through your body, you notice that Wonwoo does slow down his thrusts. Doesn’t pull out of you, though. You collapse forward and arch your back again so it’s easier to meet Wonwoo’s continued pace.
“You’re so good at listening,” he praises.
“Not usually,” you mumble into the pillow through the haze. 
“I must be special,” he says as he lazily fucks into you.
“Jesus Wonwoo, you can fuck me. I know you haven’t finished yet,” you grumble.
“In a rush to go somewhere?” he teases. 
“No, but it must be…well, I don’t know. Hard for you,” you mumble into the sheets. 
“I’ve got excellent control,” Wonwoo says, all confidence. “I’m not in a rush to end this.” 
Despite your instance, he continues to lazily snap his hips into you. It’s so slow, way too slow. He reaches down to pull you up against his chest again, still keeping the pace. His hands are on your breasts, squeezing them to anchor you to him. He rolls one of your nipples roughly between his fingers to see what he gets as a reaction. Your moan seems to spur him on further. Each time pain shoots through some part of your body, it only seems to turn you on more. It’s easy to forget why you agreed to this in the first place. 
For all the demands, Wonwoo is actually very attentive as well. He peppers kisses from behind your ear all the way down your shoulder and back, paying special attention to the areas that seem to get the best response from you. He’s also careful with where he nips you, never biting hard enough to leave a mark somewhere that couldn’t be easily hidden. The entire experience has been so all-consuming that there isn’t space for any other thoughts in your head. It’s just him and this hotel room that’s entirely too fancy. 
He must feel that you’re starting to get worked up because he pushes you back down into the bed. His pace finally picks up again, which is good because you’re sprinting towards being too sore to actually enjoy it anymore. The pace gets much faster again, not nearly as rhythmic as before. His fingers dig into your hips as he thrusts. It’s the first time it actually feels like he’s losing control. 
“Oh my god,” you cry out. “I’m gonna come again. Oh my god!” 
“Me too,” he groans through a stuttered breath. “Fuck, where can I come?” 
“I don’t care,” you cry out. You’re about to have your third orgasm. “On my back, on my ass, I don’t fucking care, just come with me.” 
You press a finger to your clit to try and help you over that last bit to tumble over the edge so that Wonwoo can chase his own relief. The second your body starts shaking, you feel him pull out. He must pump his cock a few times because there’s a slight delay before you feel something hit your back. You feel a little proud with how much cum you feel on your skin, like maybe he was a little more affected by you than he wanted to let on. 
As soon as Wonwoo lays down next to you on the bed, you also collapse onto your side. The bed is soft, but your knees are still a little sore from spending so much time on them. Wonwoo immediately pulls you into him so that he can kiss you breathless. His hand is behind your head, keeping you from pulling away. The chemistry between the two of you is intense. Not something you were prepared for. It’s clear that if one of you doesn’t stop, then you’ll be fucking him again. And your body needs a break.
“I should get cleaned up,” you say when you pull back, more than slightly breathless. 
“Let me just get cleaned up a little and then you can take a shower,” he says. 
He presses a kiss to your temple and then gets up off the bed. There’s no point in pretending you aren’t watching him as he walks to the bathroom. He’s all lean lines and unexpected muscles. Nobody should be allowed to look the way he does, to look so good that Greek gods would be jealous. And yet here he is. 
A few minutes later, he emerges from the bathroom and arches an eyebrow at you. There’s a towel slung low around his hips in a way that should be a sin. “You’re going to make me think that you want more.”
“I don’t even know if I’m going to be able to stand,” you joke as an answer.
It surprises you a little when he comes over to the bed and helps you up. That is, until you see the way his eyes take you in. There’s nothing soft there, only predatory. Like you’re a meal he wants to return to. Your brain still feels a little slow to catch up, but registers something like he’s analyzing you. Still, he helps you get to the bathroom, points out the toiletries, and then disappears back into the room. 
By the time you’re clean and wrapped in the softest bathrobe you’ve ever worn, Wonwoo is sitting at the table wearing shorts and his glasses with nothing else. He’s scrolling absently through his phone and picking at some snacks that hadn’t been there when you had gone to shower. You didn’t think you’d been in there long, so it’s surprising he was able to get something up so quickly. When he notices you’re out of the bathroom, he indicates the food.
“I ordered us some snacks and they were happy to get them up here quickly,” he says. 
You take a seat across from him a little apprehensively. This is the part that you hadn’t really considered. How do you excuse yourself from the situation in a way that ensures you’ll see him again? It’s not that you want to have a repeat, though there’s part of your brain that is not opposed like you should be. It’s just…well with the room and the toiletries and the fast room service, you’re sure that this is the man you’re looking for. Which, admittedly, might make things a little complicated. But, you do have a job to do.
“I guess I am hungry,” you admit and reach for something.
“Glad you’re not going to make me eat alone,” he muses. 
“You already paid for dinner and drinks, I wasn’t expecting more treats,” you admit. 
“Seems fitting after the mindblowing sex,” he says and watches you, a clear glint to his eyes. “I can’t get over how insanely hot it was to watch you squirt for me.” 
Your cheeks redden without your permission. He’s so free with admitting it even with the moment having passed. Maybe he’s more trouble than you realized. 
“Seems like I wasn’t the only one to enjoy myself if my back is any indication,” you toss out. 
“I really enjoyed the way you told me I could come on your back,” he shares.
“And my ass,” you remind him.
“I got that too,” he reminds you. “And what a nice ass it is.” 
“Careful or I’ll ask you to blow my back out again,” you say, voice slightly betraying that you’re affected by his very presence. 
“That makes me think you were going to head out and never see me again,” Wonwoo ventures.
“I haven’t decided yet,” you say, trying to be coy.
Wonwoo fixes you with a stare that you can’t quite decipher. It nearly makes you squirm under the intensity. Is he just like that? The kind of person that does everything with that burning look in his eyes. 
“Let me ask you something, Agent,” he begins and your mouth runs dry. You do everything you can not to let him know that you’re a second away from losing it. “Do you fuck all your targets? Or am I special?”
The way he smirks at you lets you know that he knows he’s onto something. Knows exactly who you are. Or maybe who you work for, at least. He’s made you and you’re not entirely sure you’re safe anymore. You’re also not entirely sure what the best move is. Probably take half a second too long to decide if his face is any indication. 
“Agent? Target?” you laugh out. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” 
“Don’t you?” he presses. “Really, we shouldn’t be lying to each other so early in the relationship.” 
“I’m here doing…” you start.
“Research, yes. That’s what you said. And you almost had me when it took so long to run into you again. Your Spanish is flawless. It doesn’t sound like someone that learned at some secret agency. You’re much better at languages than any of the other agents that have come after me. And waiting so long to meet me again, genius. It really had me second guessing who you were,” he says. “But then, you made a mistake. Do you know what it was?” 
“Going on a date with someone that’s clearly a little delusional?” you ventured. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 
“Oh, I think you do,” he says, confident. “I’ll tell you where you fucked up. It was dinner tonight. No, not something you said or did because you were shockingly smooth with it. It’s that you agreed to it at all. I suggested a place no researcher would ever go to. Because it used to be the site of a religious monument, but it fell into disrepair. A local crime family took it over. Only locals bother going there, but no researcher ever would.” 
Your heart sinks. Through all your research and all your planning, you knew that you would never be able to get everything. There just wasn’t the time. So, you had to hope that the person you were chasing wouldn’t notice any small missteps. Or would write them off with your cover story. What you had not planned for was this. In all your careful consideration, you had not planned to go on a date with the art thief himself. He had you and he knew it. It’s hard to see the right path out of this. 
It had been a gamble to get close to him the way you had. A gamble that you questioned taking and took anyway. A gamble you took without clearing it with Seungcheol. Usually, getting close to a target this way, you talk to him to make sure that he thinks it’s a good idea too. Make sure that this kind of move will fit the profile for the person that you’re chasing. This time, you’re flying blind. You had gotten a little ahead of yourself. A little sloppy. This isn’t the type of work you’re known for. It’s not the reason that you were sent down to Buenos Aires to chase him on a secret mission. 
“One mistake,” you sigh with a shake of your head. 
“Yeah, just the one,” he agrees. 
“So why did you invite me back here?” you ask. 
Wonwoo shrugs. “I’m curious about you.” 
“Curious? You risked inviting me back to your actual hotel room over curiosity?” you ask, looking around. 
“Who’s to say this is actually my room?” he says with another casual shrug. You clock it on his face as soon as he says it. 
“No, it is your actual room. The comfort, the speed of the room service, the way things are laid out. It’s not staged. This is just where you’re staying,” you observe. That makes him smile in a way you’re not expecting.
“Good eye,” he agrees. “Now for my question. Do you fuck all your targets?” 
“No,” you say shortly. 
“Why even agree to go on a date with me, then?” he presses. 
You sigh and sit further back into your chair. Take a piece of fruit from the table to buy yourself some time. “I don’t know. It wasn’t a good decision, obviously. I wasn’t even sure you were my target. There was just…something about you.” 
“So you’ve never fucked a target before? I’m special?” he asks with a smirk.
“I didn’t say that,” you respond. “I just don’t usually fuck a target without clearing it first.” 
“Who knows you’re here with me?” he asks.
“Nobody,” you answer. It’s too honest. 
You’re not sure if you should have admitted that and even less sure if he’ll believe you. It is the truth, though. Nobody in the world knows where you are right now. It’s kind of a crossroads for you because Wonwoo isn’t dangerous. He’s never been violent, as far as your information shows. Despite being physically separated from your bag, you’re not exactly unarmed. And yes, he does look like he’s in shape, but you’re still confident that you can take him if it comes to that. Once again, your mind is running through a million calculations a second as you realize you definitely should have talked to Seungcheol. 
“I’m trying to figure you out,” he admits.
“How’s that going?” you ask sarcastically. 
“Not as well as it would normally,” he says. It’s something else that’s honest between the two of you. More honest than you’re expecting. “Most people are too easy to figure out. It’s boring. Nothing about you makes sense to me.” 
“And what about me is so difficult for you to figure out?” you ask, still lacing your words with sarcasm. 
“You know, despite me figuring out that you’re after me, you’re actually the best agent that they’ve ever sent. You fit into your role seamlessly. You’re just the right amount of charming. You blend into your surroundings because you don’t try to do anything to dull yourself. Against my better judgment, I am impressed. And yet, you still decided to come on the date. You’re clearly the best they have and you’re still here,” he says, gaze soft but analytical on you. 
“I’m going to keep my mouth shut,” you say carefully. 
“Why?” he asks. 
“You disarm me,” you admit. “I know so much about you and yet, here I am. Unwilling to leave even though you know what I’m here to do.” 
“Do you still want to turn me in?” he asks.
“Are you going to disappear into the wind the second I walk out that door?” you counter. 
He regards you for a moment. A moment too long, really. It makes you squirm in your seat. This isn’t going at all how you would have imagined. “No.” 
“Why?” you ask.
“Because I’m waiting to see how this whole thing plays out. You haven’t said that you want to turn me in. I can see you’re conflicted about it. So, I’m going to see how this plays out,” he answers. He holds up a hand when you open your mouth. Seems to predict you’re going to ask why again. “Because…okay, look. I know this is really weird. I know you’re here to try and find me. But, you’re actually interesting and that sex was fucking good. So, I don’t know, call me cocky. I’m not ready to let you walk away just yet.”
“If I can walk at all,” you grumble. 
“You were walking just fine from the bathroom. Maybe I need to really make sure you can’t walk,” he muses. 
The eye contact is too much and you turn your head away. You’re positive he’s onto you, especially when you carefully cross your legs. It’s just that he’s right, isn’t he? You can sit here and pretend that you only slept with him to keep him close while you tried to figure him out. Can say that it was all just part of the job and you didn’t enjoy it. Can say that you wanted to take a different approach since nobody else has been able to catch him.
That’s also very clearly a lie.
Seungcheol likes to know what his agents are up to, particularly when it comes to agents like you that deal with secret missions. Since you started as friends before he had to retire to his desk, he’s also very protective of you. He hates it when you suggest using your charm on a target like this. So, no, this isn’t just another target. This is something else entirely. You have to admit that you actually enjoyed it. That you would like to do it again. That you actually don’t even want to leave his room because you’re not convinced you’ll ever see him again. Which is really stupid, isn’t it? You should not care if you never see him again. Unless it means that you failed your mission. That’s not why you’re worrying about never seeing him again, though. 
Just as you’re about to open your mouth and say something else, your phone chirps from your bag. It’s a sign. You know it is. The sound is tied to Seungcheol. Which means he’s looking for a check-in. Which means you’re late, something that never happens with you. You’re standing up to get your phone before even realizing it. Wonwoo’s eyes track your movements. 
Cheol: hope you’re enjoying your trip! Send pictures when you can
It’s code. Sent through a normal message so that it doesn’t look suspicious. And so that it gives you the chance to ignore it if you’re not in a place where you can answer him. You don’t even hear Wonwoo approach as you’re mentally calculating how to respond to this.
“Is that code?” he asks and you nearly jump out of your skin at the sound of his low voice by your ear. God, nobody should have a voice like his.
“It’s my handler, I guess you could say,” you answer.
“Are you going to call him?” he asks.
“He’ll worry if I don’t,” you say and realize it’s true. 
Wonwoo steps around you to grab his own phone and then returns to his position at the table. “I’ll be quiet if you want to call.” 
There’s something kind of hot about how he says it. Like he doesn’t actually want to let you leave. Or like it’s an order to stay. You’re not sure if you’re reading too much into it. When you look over at him, his eyes are on his phone, but his lips turn up in a smile. He knows your eyes are on him and he’s still playing a game. A game that you just might lose, for the first time in your life. 
With a sigh, you shake your head and just fire off a text in response. You don’t have it in you to call Seungcheol and you also aren’t exactly sure what to say. He’s always been able to read your tone like it’s his own. After telling him you might have a lead, he’s going to know something is wrong. This is going to be a problem.
You: it’s been amazing, i’m loving each new thing i get to see in person. I’ll have some pictures to show you tomorrow!
It’s a signal that you’re not going to have anything new to share with him tonight and not to contact you again until you check in the next day. You’re not really sure if this is the right decision, but you need time to clear your head. This is the only way that you can see getting that. It’s too hard to think about making a decision when Wonwoo is still half naked and looking at you like you’re prey. At least you can assume that you could take him if you needed to. Thankfully, he’s not really looking at you like that kind of prey. 
“I’ll call him tomorrow,” you say.
“And what will you do tonight?” Wonwoo asks, looking up at you.
“I’m all yours, at least for tonight,” you say. 
You’re surprised the look he gives you doesn’t melt you into the floor. “I can work with that.”
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The next day brings more confusion than the night before. At least you’re back in your own hotel room and out of the intoxicating orbit of Wonwoo. The downside is that you couldn’t leave his bed without agreeing to lunch plans with him. Both of you wanted to get breakfast together, but hadn’t been able to get out of bed in time for that. You turned down his offer to just buy you new clothes so you wouldn’t have to leave his sight. Thankfully, he does seem to understand that you need a minute to process everything in the last 24 hours. It’s been a bit of a whirlwind.
That’s not what you need to focus on right now, though. You don’t have any more messages from Seungcheol, which is what you expected. Still, you need to call him before he doesn’t something to check on you. Like sending Chan to your hotel with some made up story. You don’t want to put anyone in that position. You also don’t really know what you’re going to say. When you left Wonwoo’s hotel room, he made it clear: the choice was yours. He wants to see you again and he also knows that he’s asking a lot. Too much, probably. So, he’s giving you a choice. If you show up at lunch to meet him, then you’re at least willing to get to know him a little more before deciding anything. If you stand him up, then he’ll know you can’t agree to that. It’s a major gamble for him because you know what he looks like and his real name. You have more than you need to put an end to years of his hard work. 
Nothing in your life has prepared you for this. Not really. Sure, you train for missions and you perfect your skills. But, emotions have never been part of it. It’s always been so easy to separate your humanity from your job. Kind of like you just switch of anything that makes you normal and go into mission-mode. You once compared it to being an actor because you’re just playing a part. None of it is real and none of it is really your decision. This is uncharted territory for you.
Once you catch your breath, you pull a device out of the secret pocket in your bag so that you can connect it to your phone. It’ll scramble the signals and make the line secure so that you can call Seungcheol. It’s a bit of normalcy that you’re craving in the madness around you. 
“Finally, I’ve been worried,” Seungcheol answers. 
“I answered you right away,” you point out.
“Yes, to say that you would not be calling me,” Seungcheol presses and you sigh.
“Because I don’t have anything new to report,” you say without even realizing when you made the decision. The lie flows so easily. “I’ve been cataloging everything on everyone I see at the museums and galleries. Cross checking the names coming into the country. Surveying anyone that sticks out as I check things out.” 
“Hey, it’s okay,” Seungcheol cuts in.
“I’m here to find him, though,” you point out. You’re not sure why you’re doing this. 
“I know,” he says. “But, I’d rather you be safe.”
“I’m always safe,” you lie. Thankfully, he doesn’t seem to pick up on it. 
“I know, but I also know you’re competitive,” he says. “Remember, we’ve already sent no less than 6 teams to find him and they’ve all failed.” 
“I don’t fail, though. That’s why you sent me,” you say. You’re not even sure why you’re arguing with him. 
“Just be careful. What happened with that lead you thought you had?” he asks. 
“A dead end,” you say with a practiced sigh. “Does the intelligence say he’s still in the city?” 
“I can’t imagine he’d leave without taking anything,” Seungcheol says. 
“Good point,” you say. “I’ll keep looking.” 
“Do you want me to send back-up?” he asks.
“It’s your mission,” you say noncommittally. “If you think it’ll help and we can still fly under the radar, then by all means.” 
“I was thinking of Chan since he’s still kind of in the area,” he says.
“Ah, yeah, I’m not sure,” you admit.
“You’re right, I know. I do want you to formally meet him soon, though. But, definitely not mid-mission,” he agrees. “Just be careful and keep me updated. If it goes on too long, we’ll just pull you. Maybe he got spooked.” 
“Yeah, that works,” you agree. 
“See you when you’re back,” he says.
“See you,” you answer and hang up.
It feels awful to lie to him, of all people. He’s one of the only people that you’ve ever trusted in your life. The only one that knows exactly who you are, knows all your demons, and still accepts you. He knows just how many people are six feet under because of you, knows the ways you’ve had to use your body, knows the lies you’ve told and the people you’ve hurt, both physically and emotionally. He knows all your scars and he accepts it. Because you know all his scars, too. It sucks to lie to him.
Sometimes they say that indecision is still a decision. That’s where you are now. You can say that you haven’t made a decision about what you’re going to do with Wonwoo. You can say that you’re waiting for more information. But, in a way, you’ve made at least one decision in his favor. You didn’t tell Seungcheol that your lead turned out to be the art thief himself. No. Instead, you’re showering and getting ready to meet him again, about to make yet another decision. Maybe you were always going to agree to lunch rather than stand him up. He’s got a lot to lose here too. It’s far more complicated than it should be. 
Your head is a little in the clouds by the time you leave your room to head down to the lobby and out into the comfortable winter air. If you spend a little more time than strictly necessary making sure you look nice, well that’s your business. The only drawback is that you don’t have Wonwoo’s phone number, at your own insistence, and so he may think you decided to stand him up. That worry lasts as long as it takes for you to reach the lobby. That’s where you see him, sitting casually in an armchair with his eyes locked on you. There’s no reason for the way your heart skips over such a simple outfit. It’s just a t-shirt and a leather jacket. Why are you nearly losing your mind?
“What are you doing here?” you ask and he gives you the most charming smile you’ve ever seen. It probably even puts your own smile to shame.
“I took a chance that you would decide in my favor,” he says and stands up.
“Confident,” you say, “but still, I was supposed to meet you at the restaurant since I hadn’t decided.”
“It’s a date. I’m picking you up,” he says and surprises you by placing a gentle kiss on your cheek . 
“Isn’t that chivalrous of you,” you comment while trying to convince your heart to stop beating out of your chest. 
“Shall we?” he asks and motions for you to walk ahead of him.
The chivalry doesn’t stop at picking you up at your hotel, unfortunately for you. He opens the door and then gently takes your hand. There’s a hand on your back when you step around him. He puts himself between you and any traffic. It’s the best anyone has ever treated you and you hate that you’re even noticing that. Now, you’re thinking that you should have stood him up for an entirely different reason.
Lunch feels like the most normal thing in the world. The real reason for being in this beautiful city doesn’t come up at all. Instead, you talk about life and interests. The type of music and food that you like. What you do in your free time. It’s exactly what you imagine first or second dates to be like. Not that you have much experience with actually dating. 
It only gets deeper from there with Wonwoo telling you more about himself. Not about how he really makes money, but it certainly helps you understand how he got involved and how he stays under the radar. As it turns out, he comes from a lot of money. He doesn’t say it in a way that sounds like he’s bragging. It makes sense, though. Everything about him screams old money, which fits the profile you put together. The way he carries himself, the way he speaks, the way he dresses. It doesn’t feel like someone that’s made his money from stealing art. You learn that he’s involved in a lot of charities, which surprises you a bit. You also learn that he sponsors students in a video game design program in his home country. There’s so much more to him than stealing art. In fact, that seems to be such a small part of who he is. It’s more than a little surprising, which is odd since it’s usually so hard to surprise you. It’s clear that he’s grown up around art. All this time and he’s just been hiding in plain sight. 
The two of you sit at lunch for so long that the servers finally, very politely, indicate that it’s time to leave. It’s never been this easy to sit with someone in your entire life. It’s a level of comfort that you should absolutely not feel with someone like Wonwoo. But, you can’t help it. You can’t help the way you feel around him. Can’t really fight the feelings that keep threatening to bubble up. 
The roads aren’t nearly as busy when you walk back towards your hotel. Even though it’s a tourist city, it still quiets down in the mid-afternoon when the local businesses close down. The tourists seem to use the time to also relax or take advantage of certain monuments being quieter. It lends itself to the comfortable silence that settles around you and Wonwoo on the walk. 
When you reach the lobby, you turn to face Wonwoo and your breath catches a little. The sun in July isn’t as strong, but it still provides a backlight like he’s some sort of dark angel. Which sounds insane, even if your head. There have been so many beautiful people in your life, yet this is the one that has you forgetting how to put words together. It’s like he knows exactly what you’re thinking when he steps into your space and takes your face in his hands. He kisses you so fiercely that you forget your name. It’s the kind of kiss that doesn’t look like much from the outside, but changes your entire world on the inside. 
“Well how am I supposed to go back to my room and leave you now?” you ask against his lips when he pulls back. You can feel the smile on his own lips when he kisses you again.
“Isn’t it obvious?” he whispers. 
“No,” you whisper back and kiss him again.
“I don’t want you to leave me,” he says. 
That makes you pull back sharply so that you can search his face. Does he realize how that sounds? It makes you wonder if he means more than just tonight. What is he trying to do to you? How many ways can one man make you reconsider everything you stand for? Nothing about his face looks smug or even insincere. In fact, he looks the way you imagine you feel. A little smitten and a lot unsure of what to do next. 
“And what would I do instead?” you ask, though you have an idea where he’s going.
“Go pack a bag of some of your things and come stay with me for the next few days,” he requests. It’s just bordering on a demand, even though it’s clearly your call. 
“Are you crazy? We barely know each other,” you protest without much heat. 
“What better way to get to know each other?” he counters. He grabs your hips, pulling you close to his body so he can wrap his arms around you. “And think about it. I can see you’re still not sure what you want to do. If you’re with me, you’ll know where I am at all times. I can’t get into any trouble while you’re still deciding.” 
“I suppose you do make a point,” you concede. 
“I have never done anything this reckless in my life. So, I’m just asking for a chance,” he shares.
It’s a little insane for him to say this is the most reckless thing he’s done in his life. Surely, stealing art is crazier than this. Which would make you lean towards not believing him if it weren’t for the voice in the back of your head. That little voice that agrees with him. You’ve put your life in danger more times than you can count, but saying yes to the man in front of you feels like the most dangerous idea yet. Maybe it’s because you know it’s not your body you’re putting on the line, but your heart. And maybe, just maybe, that’s what he means too. That he’s never taken the chance to chase someone like this. Or maybe you just want to believe that you might be special. 
All you can do is nod at him and watch the smile that breaks across his face. It’s honest, unguarded. It’s real. There’s nothing behind it except genuine happiness that you agreed to spend the next few days with him. Before you can second guess your decision, you give him one more kiss and nearly run up to your room. 
Being separated from him gives you the chance to actually catch your breath. To focus on what you need to bring with you. Since, apparently, you’re not going to reconsider if this is actually a good idea or not. You know you should. You know that this is another one of those moments that you chalk up to indecision when your actual decision could not be any louder. Again, you’re reminded of what you’re doing here. What you’re supposed to be doing here. This man is your enemy. He’s the person you’re supposed to be arresting and bringing into The Agency to face sentencing. You’re a good agent. You always put the mission ahead of yourself, your thoughts, your beliefs, or even your relationships. This isn’t a version of yourself that you recognize and it should stop you in your tracks.
Instead, you decide which dress to pack away and what pair of shoes looks best. For the first time in your life, you’re diving in first and asking questions later. Or never. 
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It shouldn’t be surprising that you end up naked in Wonwoo’s bed minutes after crossing the threshold to his hotel room. Not with how things have gone so far for the two of you. Yet, what is surprising is that the sex is even better than the night before. You’re catching your breath, tucked into Wonwoo’s side, body tacky with sweat but so impossibly happy. His hand that’s around you absently traces patterns into your skin. It’s honestly like you’ve known him for years. It’s insane to realize how comfortable you feel when that’s not something you ever experience. Not like this. 
It’s also shocking to you how much this man wants to share with you. He carries on your chats from lunch as if he hadn’t just fucked you into his mattress yet again. Like this means more than some dirty sex holed up in a hotel in a foreign city. Makes you feel like you might actually mean something to him, which is a very dangerous feeling to have. Both of you know that this can’t mean more than what it is. At least, you think you know that and you think he might too. But, there’s a clear understanding that you won’t talk about it. Not now, at least. 
Wonwoo decides that he wants to take you somewhere fancy for dinner. The type of place that you would never consider going to while on a mission. Though, you’re always prepared for anything. When you were packing up your things in your hotel room, you even grabbed a couple nicer dresses. All they needed was a quick steam, which the hotel staff had been only too happy to accommodate. Any protests about it being too much fell on deaf ears. He was set and the two of you were going to a famous restaurant. All you had to do was shower and get ready. Your dress would be ready by the time you needed it. 
It’s clear you don’t really understand the limits to Wonwoo’s wealth, if there even are any, when you arrive at the restaurant. It’s the kind of place where you usually need reservations well in advance. It’s not the kind of place you can just show up at. Despite that, the host leads you back to a semi-private area where you’re tucked into a corner booth. It’s clearly one of the nicest tables in the place. You think you catch Wonwoo sliding the host something when he shakes their hand before he turns back to you. All thoughts go out the window when he slides in right next to you, not leaving any space. 
Wonwoo’s Spanish really is very remedial and so you help him decipher the menu and order. It gives you pause when there aren’t prices anywhere on the menu, but he’s quick to wave off any concerns. Insists that it’s his treat. You don’t want to think that’s something you could get used to. It isn’t like you have any real trouble affording nice things. Your salary is high and you don’t have much to spend money on. This is a different level, though. It’s even different from the times you’ve gone on a mission and charmed your target. That always feels temporary. Like you’re something of an imposter. You don’t get those feelings here with Wonwoo.
Letting him pick out which outfit you wore may have been a mistake. You discover this once you get your drinks and the waiter leaves you alone. His hand rests possessively on your thigh, against the bare skin of your leg exposed by the slit in your dress. His body is angled towards you and he’s encouraging you to continue telling your story. But, he has to know he’s distracting, too, with the way his hand slides further up your thigh. What started as arguably innocent ventures quickly into dangerous territory. 
“You were saying?” he prompts. His hand is inside the fabric of your dress now, keeping you from pressing your thighs together like you want to. 
“I, uh…” you stutter as he digs his hand into the soft flesh there. “Wonwoo, aren’t you worried?”
“About what?” he asks innocently.
“Getting caught,” you hiss and look down at your lap.
“No, sweetheart, I’m not worried,” he says and you glare at him, “because you’re going to be good for me and be quiet.”
“I don’t know…” you start and stop as soon as his pinky grazes along your entrance through your panties. “Fuck.” 
“Doesn’t seem like you actually want me to stop,” he points out.
“I, fuck, you know I don’t but there are people,” you say softly.
“I paid good money for this table. I don’t think we’ll be disturbed,” he tells you. 
“I…” you start. When he pulls his finger away, you nearly whine.
“I need to hear you say you want it,” he says.
“What?” you ask, a little louder than you intended.
“Use your words,” he directs and you glare.
“Fuck you,” you hiss, earning a chuckle out of him. 
“Not yet,” he retorts.
“Fine, yes. I want your fingers inside me here in this damn restaurant,” you say.
He’s expecting this answer. It’s written all over his face. This time, he doesn’t tease you. Doesn’t waste any time because you may not have much of it. He simply pushes your panties to the side and slides his first finger into you. The angle doesn’t make it easy but his fingers are long and slender, like they were built for something like this. It’s hard to keep from making a sound, so you try to do anything to distract yourself from the way he pumps into you. Or the way he adds a second finger so quickly. 
When you pick up your drink to take a sip from the straw, you watch his eyes on you. They seem to darken the second that you wrap your lips around the straw. His fingers pump into you even faster. And his lips are demanding on yours when you set the drink back down. You moan softly into his mouth without really considering if anyone is paying attention or if they can hear you. His tongue tangles with yours frantically while he tries to get you off right in that booth. 
This is new for you. You definitely didn’t think you would get so turned on by the fact that anyone could walk back over to see what you were doing. Anyone could hear the noises you’re making. Anyone could figure it out. When he feels that your pussy clenching around his fingers, he pulls away from the kiss. Leans his forehead against yours so that he can whisper filthy things in the space between you. Tells you how good you feel and how he loves watching you when you’re about to come. Moans about how tight you are. How pliant you are for him. Reminds you to be quiet. Tells you he can’t wait to taste you on his fingers. That’s what finally pushes you over the edge.
Your fingers grip the edge of the booth underneath you as you come hard and fast. He lazily guides you through it and then follows through by bringing his fingers to his lips. It’s so hot that you consider asking if you can just leave and go back to the room to be fucked properly. But, then your stomach rumbles and you think better of it. It’s only another few minutes before the first course arrives with a slightly knowing look from the waiter. After that first course, you excuse yourself to the bathroom to clean up, at least a little. You deem your panties ruined and just remove them, tucking them away into your bag. You’ll have to be a little more careful the rest of the night.
This dinner is somehow even better than the first and it has nothing to do with the place being expensive, though the food is definitely amazing. You also don’t think it really has anything to do with the way Wonwoo fingered you under the table. That’s definitely a first for you. Exhibitionism hasn’t been your thing before, but maybe he’s got you learning new things about yourself. It had only taken him a minute to realize that you weren’t wearing underwear anymore. It definitely took him another minute to regain his composure.
The thing that actually makes this dinner better than the first is the man across from you. With his walls down, the entire night just feels that much more. It’s one of the only times you’ve ever felt your own guard come down. It’s not smart and you don’t care. You think you probably look a little punch drunk to anyone that can see your table. Then, you meet Wonwoo’s eyes again and think he probably looks the same. You never really have the chance to enjoy dates, but even if you did, this would still probably top them all. It’s all the little things. The way Wonwoo carefully brushes a strand of hair out of your face. The way he offers you a bite off his own plate when you say it looks good. The way he brings your knuckles up to his lips and presses feather light kisses to them. 
“Are you going to insist on ordering dessert here too?” you ask after the main course. 
“I was thinking we might have dessert back in our room,” he says and you raise an eyebrow.
“Our room?” you question.
“Don’t test me,” he cautions. 
“I wouldn’t dare,” you say and lean into him to press a slow kiss to his cheek. Your hand brushes over his lap as a way to get closer.
“Is this you not testing me?” he asks when your hand brushes across his lap again.
“What? You can make me come on your fingers but I can’t tease you a little?” you ask innocently.
Wonwoo grabs your hand and anchors it on your own thigh. “We’re getting out of here and then you can show your appreciation however you want. We don’t need to give them more of a show.” 
It seems like it takes an eternity to pay the bill (which Wonwoo doesn’t let you see) and get a cab back to the hotel. The promise of something else simmers between you the entire time. Wonwoo keeps a hand on you the entire time. A hand on your lower back out of the restaurant, fingers intertwined with yours in the cab, an arm around you walking into the hotel. When you get into the elevator, he pulls you back against his chest as more people join. He masks it as affection and presses a kiss to your cheek, but you feel the desire beneath it. 
The moment you cross into the room, you slip out of your shoes and turn around to press a kiss to Wonwoo’s lips. The tension between the two of you is thick and it’s hard to remind yourself to come up for a breath. He overwhelms every one of your senses. There’s nothing but him in every corner of your brain when he kisses you like that. 
It’s almost embarrassing when he breaks the kiss and you chase his lips. “How about dessert?”
“I thought that was just your way of saying…” you start and he directs your attention to the table. There’s an assortment of fruit, whipped cream, and melted chocolate there. 
You’re a little hesitant when he starts to walk to the table. It just feels incredibly intimate, which is true for a lot of what's happened with Wonwoo. But, this still feels different. It feels like more, once again. Wonwoo realizes that you’re not behind him and turns back to you. He closes the space between you yet again and places a hand on your cheek, impossibly soft. 
“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” he asks. 
“I’ve never done…this,” you say softly into the quiet between you and him.��
“Pretty sure we’ve already fucked several times,” Wonwoo says to lighten the mood.
“No, I mean, this…I don’t know. The desserts and the whipped cream and chocolate. It just feels, I don’t know, intimate,” you admit. 
“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” he assures you. 
It’s absolutely insane that you’re hesitating. It doesn’t have to be some super intimate thing. It’s not like Wonwoo hasn’t already seen every inch of you and gotten to know your body better than anyone should in that period of time. But, this is far beyond the point where you can convince yourself any part of this is for the mission anymore. This isn’t just to keep him close. This is no longer indecision, as much as you want to pretend that it is.
“Is this your go-to move, then? Have a bunch of sweets delivered to the hotel room and seduce people with being all gentle?” you ask.
“I’ve definitely never done this before,” he says and it’s too honest. 
Instead of answering him you just kiss him because it’s the only answer you can think of. Somehow, knowing that this is different for him too makes it feel less overwhelming for you. You drag him back towards the table until you’re leaning against it. Your back arches into him as he licks into your mouth. His hands wrap around you to keep you tight against his body. He pulls away again and you’re ready for it this time. 
Wonwoo reaches an arm behind you and dips a strawberry in some of the chocolate. He brings it to your lips and watches intently as you get your mouth around it. The first bite sends a little bit of juice and chocolate over your lips. Just as you’re about to wipe it away, Wonwoo pulls the remainder of the strawberry back and kisses it away. It’s like that one action unlocks any hang ups you have. You twist around to scoop up some whipped cream with your finger. Your eyes lock on Wonwoo as you slowly lick it off. With it still in your mouth, you kiss him hard, enjoying the way your tongues dance and the tastes. 
The two of you take turns dipping fruit and feeding it to each other. The kisses become more and more desperate in between feeding each other. It’s a little messy, though, so you unbutton Wonwoo’s shirt and slide it off his arms. He undoes your dress to slide it off your body, removing your bra along the way. You rid him of his pants and briefs as well so that you’re not the only one standing there naked. 
When you reach back to get more fruit, Wonwoo grabs your hand to stop you. There’s a question in your eyes that he leaves unanswered as he moves things out of the way behind you. Then, he’s sitting you on the edge of the table and reaching for the whipped cream, which also answers your question. He puts some of the topping on your breast and sucks into your skin to lick it off you. Your legs part on their own as you lean back on the table to encourage him to get closer. He swirls his tongue around your nipple before softly nipping at your skin. Without warning, he bites into the flesh of your breast and laves over the spot to soothe you. 
Food should not be this sexy. Maybe it’s just that it’s Wonwoo tempting you, but you’ve never been this turned on. His tongue is everywhere across your breasts and your stomach. Covering you in kisses while also licking the whipped cream or chocolate off of you. Your nails scratch down his back each time he nips into your skin. Somehow the sensations are everywhere all at once. You wrap your legs around his waist to anchor him closer to you. 
“I need you inside me,” you whine out with Wonwoo kissing along your neck.
“Are you sure you’re ready for that?” he asks into your skin.
“Feel for yourself,” you encourage. 
Wonwoo pulls away from your neck and looks at you with lust. He presses his fingers to your mouth and you suck them in without even thinking about it. They’re sweet as you swirl your tongue around them. “Fuck, that’s hot.” 
As if it’s confirmation, he ruts against you, seemingly hard just from all the making out and the food. You pull his fingers from your mouth and guide them to your already dripping pussy. He’s not the only one that’s gotten insanely turned on. As soon as you guide his fingers through your folds he groans again. 
Neither one of you is in the mood to wait and he doesn’t waste any time angling his hand so he can pump his fingers inside you. Just presses two fingers right in and adds a third to try and open you up. It makes you scream out, praising his fingers with how quickly they work you over. He removes his hand entirely too quickly and you’re whining at the loss. Wonwoo runs a hand along his cock, pumping a couple times and catching some of the precum to spread it along his length. It’s not enough, but you don’t really care right now. 
“Please, Wonwoo, I need you,” you beg.
“Feeling a little desperate, princess?” he teases, that cocky smirk back on him. 
“Just fuck me already,” you whine. 
Wonwoo doesn’t say anything else, just lines himself up and presses his tip into you. It stretches you out and you’re a little surprised that he goes so slowly. Then, you realize that it feels like more when he’s inching into you like this. His eyes watch you for any signs of discomfort. He leans forward and catches your lips in the neediest kiss of the night when he bottoms out in you. You lean back onto your elbows, bringing him along with you. The kisses get sloppier as he starts to thrust into you. 
He pulls away from you to reposition and presses your leg up so that he can get deeper. You let your leg fall over his arm so that you don’t have to hold it up. The moans between the two of you are loud enough to drown out the sound of skin on skin as he fucks into you hard. You can’t help it, though, and you throw your head back in pleasure.
“Look at me,” he directs roughly. 
You moan in response but tilt your head back towards him. It feels like a chore and that’s when it occurs to you. Taking hold of his free hand, you move it to your throat. For a second, his eyes go wide and his pace slows. He’s searching your face for a clue before he grabs your throat a little more forcefully.
“Are you sure?” he asks.
“Yes, fuck,” you groan out. “I’ll tap you if it’s too much.” 
“You’re so fucking hot,” he utters, flexing his fingers on your throat.
Somehow, Wonwoo seems to know the perfect amount of pressure. It’s just tight enough that it makes it a little harder to breathe, but not so much that it’s actually choking you. He seems more comfortable than when he did it the first time. It also makes it easier to keep your eyes on him the way he wants. Everything feels heightened and it’s entirely too soon that you’re rushing to your high. You clench your walls around Wonwoo and he fucks you harder, groaning at the increased tightness.
“Gonna come all over my dick again?” he asks and you moan. 
You can’t really say anything and you don’t want to. This is all you need. Your hand winds down your body and you look at Wonwoo with a question in your eyes.
“Go ahead, baby, touch yourself,” he directs you. 
Asking for permission to do anything is unlike you, but there’s something about wanting to please this man that drives you to all sorts of new things. You rub your clit in time with his thrusts and it seems like only moments pass before you’re tipping over that edge. 
Heavy breaths eventually subside to find Wonwoo slowly, almost lazily, fucking into you. His hands are now both on your hips as he waits for you to come down. You sit up with him still inside you and kiss him, slow and full of all sorts of unspoken things.
“You really are fucking amazing,” you say, voice a little hoarse. “You can move faster.”
“I was thinking we might need to get into the shower,” he says with a smirk, pressing a finger to your skin. You’re about to object when you watch him pull it away and it sticks. 
“Maybe I can take care of you in there, then,” you say and kiss him softly. 
His eyes seem to light up a little at that. He slides out of you gently and walks slowly into the bathroom. You meant what you said. Shower sex is definitely not your thing because it’s never as sexy as people make it out to be. It can be slippery and there aren’t really any good positions. That doesn’t mean you can’t help him out a little. 
Wonwoo has other ideas first, it seems. Once the water is warm enough, both of you get in and he lathers up a loofah to gently wash all the stickiness from your body. It’s gentle in a way you’re not expecting and impossibly thoughtful. You relax against his back with his arms around you while he makes sure all the remnants are gone. 
When you’re clean, you turn around to face him and kiss him hard. The water falling on your back creates the perfect sensation with the heat between the two of you. He gathers you against his body, hands sliding down to grip your ass. It’s all you can do not to melt right on the spot. You think that you could probably kiss this man for the rest of your life and never get bored. Or never fully prepare yourself for the way it makes you feel. 
You drop to your knees and take his cock in your hand. He leans back against the wall of the shower as he looks down on you. It’s crazy to you how turned on this man gets (or stays) just from kissing or skin contact. No matter what, his body always seems to be ready for you. You run your tongue along his length and swirl your tongue around the tip. You’re impatient and you know he’s been waiting, so you don’t waste any time before you suck him into your mouth. You relax your throat and swallow as much of his cock as you’re able to, alternating between bobbing and hollowing out your cheeks. 
“You look so good looking up at me like that,” he groans. 
You hum around his dick and Wonwoo grabs the back of your head to anchor you there. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes before he releases you and you can get a breath. Even in this position, you can tell that you actually have control over this man. It’s a great feeling since he’s been in control every other time. His hips buck when you suck him back into you. It’s definitely a powerful feeling. The groans also tell you what you already know, you’re good at this. He’s putty in your hands. 
With a few more bobs, he’s coming down your throat and then slumping back against the shower wall. It doesn’t stop him from helping you up off your knees. You pepper light kisses along his collarbones before he surprises you and pulls you into another kiss. It’s never been your experience that a man wants to kiss you like that, but he doesn’t shy away. 
“We better get out of this shower before we run through all the hot water,” he says between kisses.
“You’re right,” you say with a sigh. 
The two of you step out of the shower and Wonwoo is quick to wrap you up in a towel. It takes everything in you to tell your heart to calm down. You know Wonwoo feels all the same things you do. Even if he's not free with vocalizing his emotions, his actions tell you exactly what he’s thinking. If you know where to look, that is. You’re realizing that you definitely know where to work. 
Twenty minutes later, your skin care routine is done and you’re curled up in bed in one of Wonwoo’s oversized t-shirts. You know your alarm is going to be too early tomorrow since you need to check in with Seungcheol, but all you want to do tonight is curl up and talk more with this incredibly interesting man. 
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Something seems to shift now that you’re holed up in Wonwoo’s hotel room with him for the next however many days. Before, he seemed hesitant to talk about the real reason you two crossed paths. You’re not sure what causes the change or why he trusts that you’re not going to just turn around and burn him. Maybe it’s just that you haven’t done it yet. 
“What made you want to start stealing art?” you ask while the two of you are sitting outside on the balcony. This room really is too nice. It almost makes it hard to leave and explore. 
“I don’t know if it was that I wanted to steal art,” he chuckles. 
“Okay, how did you start, then?” you ask with an affectionate eye roll. 
“It’s going to sound stupid,” he says with an uncharacteristic shyness. “I guess, I don’t know, I grew up in this house where nobody ever seemed to care what I was doing. I stole the first piece from my parents and sold it off to someone I’d met at this underground club. I figured my parents would catch me and then at least I’d have their attention for a minute.”
“I’m guessing they didn’t catch you,” you comment.
“They didn’t even notice it was gone,” he says with a chuckle. “How old were you?” you ask.
“16,” he answers immediately.
“So you’ve been doing this…?” you start, doing the math in your head.
“12 years, yeah,” he says. “It took awhile to get to the point I’m at now. I think for a while I was figuring that my parents would somehow catch on and give a shit about my life. By the time I was 19, I was really good at it and I’d made a lot of contacts. I still moved in all those circles so I never looked out of place at a gallery or a museum. Nobody looked twice at me.”
“Did it ever get lonely?” you ask and Wonwoo regards you for a moment. “I just mean that you were still part of all these circles. You still went to all these parties and it seems like none of them knew you at all. You were hiding in plain sight because nobody knew you well enough to see it.”
“I had the networks of people that I sold to or accepted jobs from,” he says.
“But everything I’ve ever seen says that you rarely met with those people in person. It was always online contact and leaving pieces somewhere after the money had been wired,” you share.
“I guess your agency got a few things right,” he mumbles.
“It sounds loney,” you say sympathetically.
“I wish you were a little less observant,” he says like he’s trying for a joking tone. 
It’s immediately obvious that he’s a little tired and definitely lonely. You can’t really imagine that type of life. Sure, you’ve been working on your own or with a single partner for your entire adult life. But, you’ve still been part of an organization. There are people that know you at your core. There are people that you can turn to when everything in life feels like it sucks. No matter how bad things get, you know there are people out there who can support you.
Almost involuntarily, a series of images pop into your head. Wonwoo in a suit at a charity gala, the type of person that everyone wants to approach. You can imagine people whispering behind their hands about going to speak to him or ask him to dance. Maybe trying to approach him at the bar. Then you see him just as clearly at home afterwards, alone and sitting on his couch with a drink in hand. You see him perusing a museum to get the lay of the land so that he can steal it later. Once again, alone. You see how he probably sits at home communicating with all his potential buyers. 
Wonwoo reads the look on your face and assures you that it’s probably not as bad as you’re imagining things. Yes, he admits that he’s lonely sometimes and that he’s alone more than he’s with other people. It’s hard for him to let anyone in. He doesn’t want to have to account for his time or trust that they won’t blow his cover. There’s nobody in his life that he can be totally himself with, at least not until meeting you. But, he insists that it hasn’t been so bad. Mostly, he prefers to be on his own anyway. He likes the quiet and the solitude. Likes to be able to enjoy his down time however he likes. He gets enough socialization when he goes to events as he’s expected to. 
Which brings up a question. After over a decade of doing everything solo, why has he trusted you with all of this now? His answer comes more immediately than you would expect, yet it makes sense. You have something to lose here, too. Possibly even more than he does. After all, there have been a lot of teams that have been close to unraveling his mysterious identity. You, on the other hand, are supposed to be tracking him down. Not spending time locked away in his hotel room with him. That brings you up a little short because he’s right and you’re not planning on going anywhere. 
He admits that you intrigue him. All his life, Wonwoo has appreciated a good puzzle or a good challenge. You present both to him, though it hasn’t been as much of a challenge to get you to give him a chance as he expected. It is a challenge to try and unravel you. To try and figure out what made you say yes to the date and what makes you stay now. You also meet him on a level that nobody ever has before. You nearly blush at the way he describes your intelligence and how he feels more turned on by your brain than anyone before. Normally something like that would make you cringe. But, somehow Wonwoo makes it sound both sexy and endearing. You’re just as challenged by him, too, so maybe you get it. 
It also brings up some very conflicting feelings in you because it’s a reminder that you have a life entirely separate from him. You have a life that doesn’t allow you to account for this time. At some point, you have to make a final choice. It’s way too late to just turn Wonwoo in without any sort of repercussion. It’s too late to act like this is all just in the name of bringing down one of the most difficult targets you’ve had to track. In the name of getting to know Wonwoo better, you’ve also shared a lot about yourself. A lot that someone like Seungcheol would be able to clock immediately as being true. Every moment you stay with Wonwoo makes your future more complicated. Things are already too hazy. 
“Okay enough heavy stuff,” you declare and stand. “Let’s go do something.”
“Such as?” he prompts. 
“We’re in a beautiful city, let’s go see some of it,” you suggest.
Wonwoo wants to take a minute to actually plan something, but you veto that. He’s definitely not the spontaneous type, which you figured out before you were even sure who he was. It makes more sense now, knowing who he is. So it feels like more of a win that he relents and agrees to just go with the flow. It’s not as if you’ll be flying totally blind anyway. You did a lot of research before coming down for the mission and you know a lot of the places to see, both tourist places and some that are off the beaten path. 
Once you’re outside of the hotel room, things feel different in a way you can’t quite put your finger on. Everything in the hotel room feels real in the sense of getting to know each other. The conversations can be heavy and there’s that constant need to rip each other’s clothes off. Being outside exploring a foreign city feels real in an entirely different way. None of the conversations are heavy since you’re just appreciating the sights. But, you and Wonwoo trade off in taking pictures of each other (or even snap some together) and it feels like a glimpse at another life. It isn’t a fantasy world because it does feel real, but it doesn’t feel like an actual reality either. It almost feels like a mission you’re on where you and him would pretend to be a couple. You have to remind yourself this is actually a mission and you’re running around with your target because Wonwoo isn’t your partner.
When you’re in Plaza de Mayo, you take a step back to allow Wonwoo to purchase something to eat. It’s too cute to watch him stumble through his Spanish, constantly looking over at you as if asking for help. All you can do is smile as he mixes up hombre and hambre. The older woman putting the food together only smiles softly. There’s something incredibly cute about watching this stoic man get flushed over ordering in another language. 
The next few days follow mostly the same pattern. You wake up earlier than Wonwoo so that you can pretend to work on the mission and actually check in with Seungcheol. Wonwoo pretends that he’s still asleep sometimes. Other times, he gets up and works on his own things. It’s cute that he’ll do anything to make it seem like you have privacy. Breakfast in the room always comes next because it’s an easy way to get ready for the day. 
The days themselves are all a little bit different. You see the Piramide de Mayo, the Floralis Generica, the monuments to Juana Azurduy and General Jose de San Martin, Teatro Colon, the planetarium and several other interesting sights. The planetarium is a personal favorite of yours because it’s just kind of weird in an affectionate way. It’s hard to truly pick a favorite though because each new stop teaches you more about the local culture. It’s the kind of place that just makes you want to fall in love with it. There’s so much beauty and so much to appreciate. Each new stop also seems to involve learning something new about Wonwoo and somehow him trying his hand at Spanish again, only to fail. You’re wondering if he does it just to entertain you. 
While you’re seeing all the tourist spots, you take time to see the things the locals recommend as well. Sometimes that’s hole-in-the-wall food places or stands that someone mentions. Other times it’s a park that’s too out of the way for tourists. Even other times still, it’s a hidden access point to the beach. Thankfully, it’s still cool out and getting Wonwoo to agree to the beach isn’t difficult. You idly wonder what it would be like to try and get him to visit the beach in January when it’s the dead of summer. 
You want to try as many local dishes as you can while you’re there, too. Given his way, Wonwoo would probably eat in the hotel room just as much as out of it, but you don’t know when you’re going to get this chance again. So, even though he’s worn out from spending so much time around people, he lets you drag him out again every night. He even seems to enjoy himself.
At the start of whatever this is, it was always you asking Wonwoo all the questions and trying to volunteer as little about yourself as possible. You’re still an agent and you’re still supposed to be after him. The least you can do, while you’re totally ignoring your mission, is try to better understand Wonwoo and his motivations. Even if you don’t end up turning him in, it's an invaluable experience to get to look into the mind of a criminal. When will you get another chance like this? When will you be this close to someone to ask personal questions? No part of you even considers that he’s lying to you. You’re positive that he answers everything truthfully.
Somewhere along the line, it shifts. Maybe because you know everything you want to know about the man across from you. Or maybe because you genuinely feel comfortable about him. Either way, he’s the one that’s asking you questions now. Surprisingly, though, he doesn’t want to know anything about your work. He doesn’t seem to care about any of that. There’s a nagging thought that thinks he might just be trying to make you comfortable. You try to quickly brush it away, though, and just answer any of the personal questions he asks. Wonwoo wants to know the simple things like where you grew up, what your family was like, and what you wanted to do when you were younger. The things that allow him to really know you. It’s terrifying. 
By the time you get back to the hotel that night, you’re exhausted. It feels like it’s been a never ending span of days in the best way. You collapse on the bed without changing. All you manage to do is take off your shoes. Wonwoo leans over you and kisses you, softly at first. But, like every other kiss with him, it leaves you gasping for air after a minute.
It’s amazing how he seems to take your breath away and even more amazing how he always seems like he’s ready to tear your clothes off. You’ve never had someone like him in your life. But, that also brings you back to reality. Wonwoo asked you to give him a few days staying in his hotel room. It’s definitely been longer than that without either of you seeming to notice. There’s a level of comfort that neither of you talk about given that this all has an expiration date. And that expiration date is rapidly approaching. 
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Staying with Wonwoo turns out to be longer than either of you planned and neither of you has a complaint about it. You’ve been checking in with Seungcheol every morning and Wonwoo pretends not to listen. It’s been like living in a little bubble where reality isn’t a concern. 
That’s just the thing, though, isn’t it? This isn’t real life, not for you. This isn’t something that lasts long term or that you can even sustain. The reality is still there. Wonwoo is one of the most infamous art thieves to ever live and you work for a secret agency tasked with bringing criminals like him to justice. You’re not exactly sure what the last however many days have been. All you know is this is just a break from reality. A brief glimpse into an alternate life that can never be. It’s been amazing and something you won’t ever forget. You’re hoping that you’re both on the same page about that, at least.
“I should probably go back to my hotel today,” you say. 
Wonwoo looks up from across the room where he’s reading while you pretend to work on your case. It helps to at least log in to the system. “To get more stuff?”
“I can’t stay here forever,” you point out. 
“No, I expect at some point we’ll leave and head to the next place,” he agrees with a shrug. 
“We?” you ask, eyebrows flying up. 
“Yes, we,” he says like suddenly you’re slow on the uptake. “I’ve got a few places in mind that I’d love to take you, but it’s really up to you.” 
“Wonwoo,” you start and your heart sinks.
You are definitely not on the same page. Probably not even in the same book, if you’re honest. Everything over the past days with him has been amazing. The perfect little escape from your reality. But, that’s all it’s been: an escape. Or maybe that’s all you’ve let yourself think it was. Anything else seems like entirely too much. His face drops as he watches you.
“You’re not coming with me,” he realizes.
“I didn’t even know you would want me to!” you state, too loud for the space.
“How could you not? I’ve been telling you all the places that I wanted you to see,” he says and that hits you harder than a physical blow. He’s been giving you all the signs that this isn’t just a bubble.
“I didn’t think you were serious,” you point out.
“Clearly,” he says, voice thick with disappointment. 
“Wonwoo, come on. It’s not like I can just, what? Run away?” you say.
“Oh, no, there’s a whole life waiting for you back at your precious agency,” he says with derision. 
“It’s all I’ve ever known,” you plead.
“And I’ve shown you that there’s more to life than whatever this is for you,” he counters.
“I can’t just leave them,” you say with a shake of your head.
That seems to make Wonwoo angrier than you expect. “No, of course not. How silly of me. You have to get back to your handler that so clearly loves you.” 
“Seungcheol does not love me. We’re friends, sure, but that’s it,” you disagree.
“Let’s pretend that’s true and it’s normal for a handler to speak to you the way he does. Or that it’s normal for him to worry so much about your safety. Who are you going back to apart from him? Who’s waiting for you?” Wonwoo asks.
The questions wash over you like acid rain. Painful and harsh and unrelenting. The worst part is that he’s right. You have wondered if there are some feelings there from Seungcheol. You also don’t have anyone waiting for you. It’s really a half-life, if you’re being honest. Less than a half-life, probably. The past few days with Wonwoo are the most alive you’ve felt since you were a child, before joining the agency. 
“I can’t just…this is my job, Wonwoo. And you’re an art thief. A very famous one and…” you start.
“Have I stolen anything here?” he asks and that brings you up short.
“Well, no, of course not. You’ve been with me,” you say simply.
“And I will leave this city without stealing. I will switch careers entirely if it’s that important, though it doesn’t seem like it is since you haven’t turned me in,” he says and it’s almost like he’s talking to himself. “I’ve been all over the globe trying to feel something. Trying for anything. I started stealing because I could. I wanted to get the attention my parents never gave me. I kept going because I was looking for a challenge, which it is, at least sometimes. I was looking for someone, I think. Then, I find you and you’re everything I didn’t know to ask for. But, you’re telling me some job where you can’t even have a life is more important than this? That my job, which I’m completely willing to give up, is too much of a barrier?”
“I have a life,” you scoff.
“Really?” Wonwoo challenges and folds his arms. “When was the last time you went on a real date? Not with a target, but a real date just with someone you wanted to know? When’s the last time you let yourself just breathe and explore a city? When’s the last time you did something just because you wanted to?”
“Plenty of people are married to their jobs,” you begin.
“I thought you were brave, you know,” Wonwoo muses. “I thought you were someone who would realize how rare this is. It’s not like everyone is lucky enough to meet a person that completes them like this. I guess I was wrong. I guess all I was really good for was fucking you and that’s all it was.”
“Of course that’s not all it was,” you disagree. There are tears threatening to spill over. This isn’t at all how you imagined it going. You weren’t prepared for him to try to fight for you. “The last few days with you have been everything I never thought I’d experience. But, it hasn’t been real, Wonwoo. It can’t be real. Life doesn’t work that way.” 
“Why can’t it?” he fires at you.
“Because I don’t deserve it!” you scream, tears finally streaming down your face. “Because you don’t know my scars. You don’t know the things I’ve done. You don’t know the mistakes I’ve made. You don’t know that I have demons that are constantly chasing me.” 
“I’m a fucking criminal,” he points out. “Who am I to judge?”
“Exactly,” you agree but rush to finish your thought before Wonwoo can interject. “You don’t…question the decisions you’ve made. You stand on everything you’ve done. But, you also do so much good with charities and helping students and just giving back. Plus, I’ve looked at your crimes. You only ever stole from the rich to sell to other rich people.”
“Yet you still were sent to chase me,” he points out. 
“Yeah, who do you think pays our salaries?” you ask flatly. “My point is that…I don’t know. I’m standing here across from you and I feel like I’m the infinitely worse person in this situation.” 
“It really can’t be that bad,” he reasons.
“I’ve taken lives, Wonwoo. More than I can count. And without even questioning if our reasoning was solid for taking them out. I’ve used my body in ways that I may never recover from, thinking it was my choice at the time. I’ve done what I was told and I’ve been good at it. Too good, maybe,” you say. You’re talking to yourself more than him at this point. “I’m the one they send when they don’t want a record. I’m the one they send when nobody else can do it. I’ve spent the last 10 years of my life training and doing what I was told. It’s given me scars that you can’t see and won’t ever heal. All I know is this. They’re not just going to let me go. And even if they did, you don’t deserve all the baggage that I come with. You’re not a bad guy.”
“And you think you are? A bad guy?” he asks.
“I know I am,” you say.
“That’s all you are if that’s all you see, but I see so much more,” he argues. 
“I still can’t just ask them to walk away,” you press.
“I wasn’t suggesting that you ask,” he says. “You deserve a chance to start fresh. To see what you can be without the weight of the world hanging over your head.”
“I don’t deserve anything more than what I have now,” you disagree.
“What about love? Do you deserve that?” he asks, changing directions.
“I don’t know,” you admit.
“And me? Do I deserve love?” he asks.
“Yes, without question,” you answer immediately.
“So give me the chance to experience love,” he begs. “I never thought I’d love anyone and I’ve never taken this kind of chance on anyone. But, I’m asking you for a chance. Just one more.” 
There’s so much tension in the air between you. So many things still left unsaid and so much emotion. The air between you and him seems to crackle. A storm brews behind his eyes as he waits for you to answer him. It seems insane to think that he could feel that for you after such a short time. But, really, what do you know? You have unquestionably never been in love before, not really. There’s never been the time or space for it in your line of work. Relationships never seem to get deeper because you’re always keeping secrets. Can’t ever tell them what you really do for work. And then there’s Wonwoo. He knows so much about you already and even though it’s barely scratched the surface, it’s still more honest than you’ve ever been. He doesn’t want to run away and that scares you more than any mission you’ve ever had.
It’s just…it’s too much to decide now. You spend your whole life having to make split second decisions, yet can’t about this. Don’t have the data that you have on missions. Don’t know the pros and cons. It’s uncharted territory. It’s scary in a way you’ve never experienced. You’ve stared down the barrel of too many guns and this still feels infinitely more terrifying. Maybe he can love you after such a short amount of time because he seems to realize what you’re going to say before you say it. 
“Don’t,” he says softly when you open your mouth. “I’m going to leave the day after tomorrow. I’m going to set the flight to leave at 1 in the afternoon. That gives you time to change your mind.”
“And if I don’t reach you before then?” you ask softly.
“Don’t ever expect to find me again,” he says with a finality that surprises you. When you meet his gaze, it’s harder than you’re expecting. “I really care about you and I’d love you to come with me. But I know how stubborn you are. It’s part of why I love you so much. So I’m leaving my heart open until the day after tomorrow. Then it’s over.”
“You’re an amazing person, Wonwoo,” you say and press a kiss to his cheek. “You’ve challenged a lot of my ideas about right and wrong. I’ll never forget that.” 
“I’m not accepting this as goodbye. I’ll still hope to see you before I leave,” he says and presses the gentlest kiss to your forehead. 
Your throat is too tight to say anything in response to that. All you can do is gather up your things and head out of the hotel room. Everything in your body feels tired from the unexpected heaviness of the conversation. It hurts to see Wonwoo looking so hurt. As crazy as it sounds, you do mean that he deserves the absolute best. You also meant it that made you rethink a lot of your preconceived notions. You actually questioned things for the first time in your adult life. Despite all of that, you still walk right out of the hotel room.
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You spend nearly every minute after walking out of Wonwoo’s hotel room considering his offer. Go as far as scheduling your flight out of Buenos Aires for the same time as his. Genuinely, you’re not sure what you want to do. At least Seungcheol understood failing the mission. Somehow, he still sees it as a win that nothing was stolen from anywhere in the city while you were there. He assumes that your presence somehow spooked the notorious art thief. Thankfully he doesn’t realize just how right he is. 
The biggest surprise is that Chan, the slightly overeager agent from the flight down, will be meeting you when you get on the plane. He’s only wrapping up a second mission that popped up in the area. The Agency is sending him along so that you can debrief about your actual mission and start looping him in going forward. Apparently, as great as you are and as (almost) perfect as your record is, the agency still wants to have someone for you to work with when you need them. Since that can’t be Seungcheol, he’s recommending a promising younger agent. This apparently also includes you being the one to tell him all of this yourself. 
The airport is busy when you get there, an unsurprising side effect of planning flights during the afternoon. There’s also the fact that private planes have to leave from the international airport, which is always somewhat packed. Getting through customs and security is surprisingly smooth and soon you’re going to have to face your literal crossroads. 
In one direction is the familiar. Nothing about working for The Agency is easy. There’s a sense of routine to it, though. A sense of generally knowing what your days or weeks or even months will look like. You know how to make coffee in the shitty break room when you’re actually on site (a rarity). You know how to play nice with the other agents. You know how all the tech works. And you’re good at the missions themselves. That’s just to say you don’t have to learn anything new. You’re lucky enough to have a semi-boss that you get along with. There’s a sense of routine to everything from mission briefings to flights to the missions themselves. There’s comfort in knowing you don’t really have to make the decisions. Sure, you have to figure out which course to take on the ground with a mission. But, that usually only means picking option A or B. All of the possible courses of action come in the briefing. You just have to evaluate the factors and figure out which pre-determined option fits best. It’s easy. As fucked up as it might be to admit, you like doing something that you know you’re good at. It’s nice to get praised for constantly succeeding. It’s the easy decision.
And in the other direction…well, it’s the unknown. Being with Wonwoo has been nothing short of the best feeling of your life. The most alive you’ve ever felt. It’s kind of crazy but part of you thinks you may love him. Can see how the whole future plays out, even if it’s not crystal clear. The two of you could start over somewhere new where he doesn’t have to steal art and you don’t have to chase criminals with questionable methods. Both of you have the funds (even if he’s better set up) to start over. Both of you clearly have the skills to disappear into the wind, too. It’s not like your legal name exists anywhere anymore. Very few people even know it, not that you would go back to it. 
It’s easy to get lost in the daydream. As much as you love the sun of Buenos Aires, you can’t imagine Wonwoo in a place like that during the actual summer. Everything about him makes you think of somewhere cooler, somewhere that you’re not constantly sweating. That would let you take breaks to sunnier weather. Places where you could soak up the sun while he took refuge under an umbrella, watching you with all the affection in the world. Actually, you can picture visiting a lot of places with him. He would be the perfect travel partner to see all the beautiful corners of the world that you’ve never been able to appreciate. It’s like going somewhere for a business trip. You’re there working, not to appreciate everything around you. 
There’s something kind of poetic about being at an airport as an actual crossroads in your life. It’s like you can get on a plane going anywhere. Quite literally, since you’re not sure where Wonwoo’s plane is going. Not that it really matters. If that’s the path you pick, then it’s for him rather than the destination. 
The only question left is whether you’re ready to leave your entire life behind. Are you ready to say goodbye to the agency that saved you? Are you ready to cut yourself off from the few people who actually know you and accept you as you are? Can you live without having any closure on that part of your life? Would you feel guilty that Seungcheol would be left with a million questions about what happened to you? Or would it hurt you to know that he would blame himself for your disappearance somehow? Then again, maybe he would know, on some level, that you just finally reached the point of needing to walk away. That’s something you and him have talked about before, in the early hours of the morning after too much to drink. What would you do if you could walk away from this life? What would life after The Agency look like? 
With a deep breath, you pick your path and you don’t look back. That’s the only way you know you’ll have the strength in your decision. 
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i hope you all enjoyed this as much as i enjoyed writing it! please reblog or comment and let me know 💕
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flemingsfreckles · 1 month
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Best Friend’s Sister
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Jessie Fleming x Charles!Reader
Synopsis: just as the title says, classic best friend’s sister fic, except your little sister is more protective over Jessie than she is you.
Warnings: suggestive comments, mentions of sex, language
WC: 2.6k
A/N: hi I’ve been trying to write some shorter stuff, if anyone has requests for some small 1-2k fics they’d like to see feel free to send them my way.
“You single Jessie?”
“Oh my god, leave her alone.” You feel your sister come up from behind you, her hand clasping over your mouth.
You had just moved back to London after spending a few years in school over in America, meaning you were finally back to annoying your younger sister Niamh.
“I’m so sorry. Please ignore her.” Niamh leans over your shoulder sending her roommate an apologetic look.
“Oh, she’s fine, I promise.” Jessie waves off your sister and Niamh releases her hand on your mouth. You can’t help but notice the way Jessie smiles and her cheeks tint pink.
You sister had invited you over to catch up and while you knew she lived with Jessie and you had heard all about the midfielder, you hadn’t really gotten to ever speak to her or gotten to know her. When you were greeted by brown eyes and a face dotted with freckles instead of your sister's paler skin and blue eyes, you had a sudden infatuation with the Canadian. She was beautiful, but you couldn’t say that, you hardly knew if she was single, let alone gay, but you were determined to find out.
The more time you spent with her, the more you poked and prodded at her personal life, which wasn’t easy, she tended to keep to herself most of the time. Each time you visited, you became more and more bold with your comments and questions until finally you were outright complementing the woman.
“You’re really pretty, you know that Fleming?” You said over your shoulder as you made your way out of their apartment, your sister out of earshot.
“What?”
“You heard me.” You say as you grabbed your keys and headed out the front door after spending the afternoon at your sister’s place. You were hoping you left a confused Canadian standing in the kitchen thinking about you. And you had, you just didn’t quite know it yet but Jessie had started to develop her own little crush on you, the more you flirted and teased her, the more she fell.
The longer you were in London, the more and more you found yourself growing close to your sister’s best friend. The closer you grew to her, the more your crush blossomed. You came over often, for dinner, to play games, or watch movies. It was nice, getting to finally spend regular time with your sister again and you definitely didn’t mind an excuse to see Jessie.
One evening the three of you were sitting on the couch playing Mario Kart, which pretty much consisted of you beating Jessie and Niamh pretty handily each round. Niamh had gotten up between races to grab some snacks.
“Hey, would you be able to look at my bed?” Jessie turns to you on the couch, poking your shoulder.
“Why?”
“I think it’s broken?” She says as if she’s not sure if it’s broken or not.
“Damn, didn’t know you were seeing anyone, good for you breaking beds, you don’t strike me as that type.” You send her a wink and a smile.
“No no no,” Jessie immediately is waving her hands, a blush creeping up her cheeks. “It’s not like that.”
“No? Not into wild crazy sex?” You try to bite back the smirk asking to crawl across your face. You had found with your new developing crush, you had also developed an interest in winding up Jessie, just to see her cute, panicked responses.
“I- uh”
“Hey!” You hear Niamh shout at you from the kitchen. “Leave her alone.”
“I’m teasing, you don’t have to answer that.” You smile at Jessie placing your hand on her bent knee. “I’m happy to look at it.”
“I threw my suitcase from my trip on it a little too hard I think, it’s now slanted, Niamh suggested you look at it, said you’re good with that stuff.”
“Yeah Niamh would know I’m good with that stuff, I was always fixing stuff she broke around the house when we were kids and she wanted to practice passes in the hallway.”
“Hey you broke plenty of stuff too!” Niamh says as she comes back over to the couch, she stands before the two of you, giving your hand a stare causing you to realize it’s still resting on Jessie’s knee. You quickly pull your hand back, placing it in your own lap and Niamh sits down placing herself between you and Jessie.
After a couple more laps of what you considered easy victory and embarrassing defeat of Jessie and Niamh, the three of you put on a movie which has Jessie falling asleep on the couch within minutes.
You feel yourself starting to doze off as well causing you to stand up from the couch.
“Tell her I’ll stop by to fix her bed tomorrow.”
The next evening you let yourself into their apartment with the key Niamh lent you and are immediately hit by the smell of garlic and herbs coming from the kitchen. You wander through the entryway to see Jessie at the stovetop, stirring a pot.
“Hey.” You say, not wanting to startle her.
“Hi.” The way she smiles over at you nearly has your knees weak, a warmth spreading through your chest.
“Whatcha doing?”
“Cooking.”
You hum in acknowledgment, moving into the kitchen to where she was.
“Did you invite me over just to wine and dine me Fleming?”
“Maybe I did.” She says matter of factly, giving you a quick grin. “But I also seriously need help with my bed frame.”
“Where’s she at?” You nod in the direction of your sister's room.
“Not here.” Jessie says, a suspicious smile on her face as she turns back to face the stovetop.
“Huh, so it’s just us?”
“Just us.” Jessie repeats. You quickly find yourself moving in her direction, putting yourself behind her, leaning up against the granite island in the middle of the kitchen. Jessie turns down the burner before turning to look up at you, stepping closer so her body is nearly flushed to yours. She looks up at you, wide eyed, her tongue poking out to wet her lower lip.
“Jessie.” You say, almost warning her, she knew what she was doing, putting herself in this close proximity, looking up at you with wide eyes.
“You know we shouldn’t.” Jessie whispers, just loud enough to fill the tiny space between the two of you. Her eyes betray her as you notice the way she stares at your lips between words.
“I know, but maybe that’s why I want to.” It was half true, first and foremost you found Jessie to be extremely attractive and smart and something about her charmed you, her shy demeanor mixed with her confidence. The other half of you, the sibling in you, wanted to piss off Niamh. She had always been the golden child of the family. Professional athlete, good student, you often felt average in comparison.
Plus if the beautiful girl you were looking down at wanted to kiss you, you certainly weren’t going to stand in the way of that. You knew you had started developing feelings, you weren’t sure if she had as well, but the way she smiled at you, found herself at your side, would text you nearly every day about whatever thoughts popped into her mind, you had an inkling she felt similarly.
“I want to too.” She says.
“Say stop and I’ll stop.” You whisper, giving Jessie plenty of time to make a decision. You let your hand slowly come up to her cheek, tilting her chin up slightly in your direction. You give her one last look, down to her lips then back up to her brown eyes before closing your own and leaning in.
Your lips meet hers in a sweet kiss, lasting only a second before you pull back at the sound of the front door opening. You and Jessie give each other identical wide eyes stares. She quickly turns around, giving her attention to the pot on the stove and you turn back, beginning to put away clean dishes that had been drying. Part of you wants to giggle when your sister comes around the corner but the other half of you likes having a little secret so you compose yourself as you put away a stack of plates.
“I didn’t know you’d be over.” Your sister says, you look over at her, an unassuming expression on her face.
“I told you I’d be coming back to help Jessie fix her bed, she asked last night but then someone” you point over your shoulder to Jessie “fell asleep on the couch before I could look at it.” You defend your own presence to your sister who just rolls her eyes at you. The three of you stand in the kitchen, Niamh watching and you and Jessie occupy yourselves with your tasks.
“How was your appointment?” Jessie says, thankfully breaking the awkward silence that had fallen over the kitchen.
“Oh good.” You zone out as your sister begins to chat to Jessie, discussing her appointment and various other training and team related things that quite frankly were of no interest to you.
Jessie finishes up cooking, plating food for all three of you before you sit down at the table. The three of you eat and you offer to clear plates once everyone has finished. Niamh excuses herself off to bed, saying she had gotten up early and was exhausted.
“Want me to look at the bed? Maybe you can actually sleep there instead of the couch tonight.”
“The couch was comfortable.”
“Whatever you say.” You follow Jessie down the hall past your sister's room and into Jessie’s. The slant in her bed is so obvious you giggle upon seeing it.
It takes about half an hour but you finally upright the Canadian’s bed. “Should be good to go, hop on, make sure it’s alright.”
“I think you should also test it, you know, since you fixed it.” You watch as she scoots herself over to one side of the bed before patting the space next to her. You look between her and her hand, squinting, questioning her intentions by inviting you into her bed after you had just kissed in the kitchen.
You follow her request, climbing in to lay next to her. Jessie slides herself back in your direction, putting her body against yours and her head ever so slightly resting on your shoulder.
“Close your eyes.” Jessie says, tilting her head up to look at you. “That’s the only way to test it fully.”
“Whatever you say Fleming.” You close your eyes, feeling yourself relax into the pillow under your head. You feel Jessie shift against you and then you feel her lips press against the side of your cheek. You can’t help the grin that comes across your lips as she pulls back and rests her head more firmly on your shoulder, one arm coming across your stomach to rest.
You’re woken up by an aggressive tug on your sweatshirt, pulling you from the comfort of the bed you were in and the warmth from the body beside you. Before you know it you’re against the hard wall of the hallway, your sister's bright blue eyes staring harshly into yours.
“What the fuck are you doing?” She empathizes her words, pushing you hard against the wall as she questions you.
You’re still in a sleepy haze, blinking rapidly to figure out what exactly your sister was going on about. “What?”
“Why are you in her bed?” Niamh is whispering but her tone tells you she is pissed off. That’s when it sets in, you must have fallen asleep next to Jessie, in her bed, in her room, in her shared apartment with your sister.
“I helped her fix it and then, I don’t know.”
“You cannot put yourself in her bed just because you have a crush.”
“Niamh.” You try to get through to your sister but she’s too focused on the fact that she found you in her best friend's bed she won’t listen.
“No, you’re my sister and that’s my roommate and my best friend, you can’t push yourself on her just because you can’t handle your little crush and Jessie is too fucking nice to tell you off.”
“I didn’t push myself on her Niamh, Jesus.”
“So what then? You’re claiming she invited you into her bed?”
“I sort of did.” You hear Jessie’s voice, causing you and Niamh to quickly turn your heads in her direction. Jessie stood in the doorway, eyes daring between yourself and your sister and where Niamh’s hands still held you hard to the wall. “Niamh, I’m sorry, I should’ve said something sooner. I just, I didn’t know how.”
You watch as your sister's gaze softens unexpectedly. “Oh.” Is the only word that comes from her mouth but you feel the grip on your sweatshirt begin to loosen.
“Are you two, like, together?”
You glance at Jessie who shares a unsure look in your direction.
“Uh.” You don’t want to overstep.
“We’re uh.” Jessie looks at you and to the floor.
“We haven’t gotten to that conversation yet.” You finally say, a tight lipped smile across your face knowing Niamh probably wouldn’t be happy with that answer.
“Oh, but you’re sleeping together?” Niamh’s hands drop from your collar.
“No.” You and Jessie both are quick to blurt out before looking at each other.
“No, not like that. I mean yes we were asleep together, but that was the first time and we were just sleeping. We haven’t, we aren’t, uh, yeah.” You suddenly feel shy discussing the topic in front of you sister and Jessie,
“Okay.” Your sister brings one hand up to pinch her forehead between her thumb and forefinger. “Jessie, can you give us a second?”
“Yeah, of course.” She steps back into her room and closes the door leaving you and Niamh in silence in the hall.
“Look Niamh I would’ve told you. I just didn’t know what was going to happen.” You try to explain yourself before your sister cuts you off, her uptight tone returning.
“If you hurt her, I swear, I’ll put my fucking hands on you.”
“Niamh.”
“No, let me speak, she’s the nicest, most genuine person I know, and if you so much as corrupt one tiny cell in her body, I will have it out for you. She’s not someone you can just mess around with and then move on, not her.”
“Hey, shouldn’t you be having this conversation with her, not me, I’m your sister, you should be protecting me.” You throw your arms out, not understanding why your sister is so worried about you.
“Well no offense, I’ve seen your track record. I’m more worried about her getting hurt, not you. So I apologize for wanting to make sure you don’t keep her around just long enough to get laid so you can lose interest.”
“God Niamh, that was years ago, I was a teenager and stupid. I’m not like that anymore.” You knew your sister was right. You had been careless with girls when you were younger, you had liked the chase, when the chase was over, you would lose interest and move on to chasing another girl, this process repeated itself through your late teens eventually stopping a couple years ago when you finally realized the chase was not all that it was made up to be. You wanted serious, you wanted long term, and now you wanted Jessie.
“How am I supposed to believe that?”
“I don’t know, but let me prove it. We're not even together yet Niamh but I’m going to treat her right, I promise. Let me prove I can be good for her.” You hold out your pinky to your sister, something that the two of you did as kids to make promises. You never broke and pinky promise and neither had Niamh.
Niamh took a second, looking between your outstretched pinky and your face. “Fine, I’m trusting you.” She looks at your face before bringing her hand up to link her pinky with yours.
“Thank you, you won’t regret it, and neither will she.” You give Niamh a quick wink before releasing your pinky before heading through the door of Jessie’s room, leaving your sister rolling her eyes behind you.
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mattybsgroupie · 3 months
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sleepover | matt sturniolo
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contents: established relationship; handjob (m receiving); thigh riding (f); p in v; creampie; mommy kink; sub!matt
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notes: i wrote two dom!matt fics in a row i do not recognize myself. back to the sub!matt agenda, somebody has got to do it, i am the chosen one!!! (please it’s a trump meme) this is a silly little one i wrote cuz i’ve been dreaming some weird things these last few days and i’d very much like to fuck matt afterwards. not proofread but hope you enjoy it. always so thankful for every like, comment, reblog and follow, love y’all sm ♡ btw next week i might post a chris request i got idkkk
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i woke up out of breath, sweat dripping from my forehead as i tried to calm down. it was a nightmare - a terrible one, where i no longer had matt and no matter how much i’d scream, my voice wouldn’t come out. my phone buzzed, the screen lighting up the ceiling and part of my room. it was 3am.
i reached for the nightstand, first taking a sip of water and then grabbing my cellphone, checking my notifications. i had one missed call from matt and two other messages, which only read “babe, you up?”
i felt as the weight of the world had been lifted off my shoulders, my chest gradually lowering as i got more relaxed. i smiled and speed dialed the first number on my list.
“why are you awake!” matt picked up in a surprised tone, not really waiting for my answer. “i just texted you, did you feel it coming or something?” he giggled.
“hi, babe” i said, my voice still shaky. “i just woke up, actually”
“what happened?” matt asked me once again, clearly concerned as he heard how i sounded. i gulped and gave a few taps on my chest as i rested my back on the headboard. “what is it, hm? bad dream?”
“uhum” i nodded, even though he couldn’t see me. he knew i’d soon be curled up between the sheets, trying to fall asleep again. “what about you babe? can't sleep?” i asked, already knowing the response.
matt sighed and i could picture him running his fingers through his hair, trying to not upset me “anxious”.
“i’m sorry to hear that, matty” i pouted from the other side of the screen. “do you wanna facetime?” i suggested what we had done plenty of times. we’d be facing each other, talking nonsense until one of us fall asleep - of course, when things didn’t take a turn to either matt’s or my own horniness.
“actually… was thinking about coming over” i smiled, but he couldn’t see it. he always made me feel like a teenage girl, changing the reason of my nervousness to something silly, like him coming over.
“no way, you’re not getting the road right now” i said, playing hard to get.
“what?” matt sounded confused. “why not?!”
“it’s late and i worry about you” i responded. “don’t you have something schedule for tomorrow?”
“i don’t give a fuck” matt said, “i wanna be with you right now, do you wanna be with me?” i nodded and as if he could see me from there, he continued. “please, mommy?”
“i’m waiting!” i jokingly hang up on him after gasping by the nickname, as if it was too bold of him to call me that.
- ♡ -
i heard three knocks on my bedroom door and didn’t bother getting up. i rolled myself on the bed, waiting for him to join me.
“did i take too long?” matt asked, biggest smile on his face. he locked the door and quickly came next to me, lying down by my side.
“yeah, you know mommy doesn’t like to wait” matt widened his eyes, gulping at my words, realizing what he had done over the phone.
“i just said that so you could let me come over” he said, acting tough as he rolled his eyes before resting his head above my chest, snuggling into me.
“oh, that’s too bad” i pouted, my fingers running through his hair. “you got me all worked up…”
matt quickly raised his head, blue eyes staring at me in surprise, grin growing on his face. “did i? really?”
“of course, my good boy always gets me going” i teased, matt’s cheeks turning red. “why? you came here to sleep?”
“i mean” he started, grabbing my waist, turning my body over and changing our positions. he was now under me, his hands resting on my hips while i adjusted myself in order to get comfortable on his lap. “not anymore”.
matt leaned in for a kiss, holding the back of my head and bringing us closer. i could feel his beard slightly tickling my face as he deepened the pressure of his lips against mine, silently asking to go further by sticking his tongue and teasing me. i opened my mouth and matt’s tongue quickly slid in, the wet sounds taking over my darkened room.
one of matt's hand moved to my breasts, massaging it over the shirt. i gasped for the sudden contact, pulling away from the kiss, which led him to go to my neck instead. he trailed his lips down, altering between biting and licking my skin. my hands went to his hair once again, tangling my fingers on his curls.
matt lowered his head and stopped right above my nipple before looking at me with needy puppy eyes. i nodded vigorously, but instead of removing my shirt, matt hid his face underneath it, streching the cloth in order to fit inside. i felt his wet tongue teasing my nub and since i could no longer pull his hair, i rested my hands on his bare thighs. as matt started to swril his tongue, i threw my head back and couldn't help but start to move my hips forward, trying to get some friction to my already wet pussy.
i let out a moan when his free went to my other boob, his thumb circling the hardened nub that poked through the shirt. i wanted to look at him - wanted to see how his beard looked like rubbing against my skin, which color the hickeys he left would be, how much would the saliva run down my torso.
with my eyes closed and feeling matt sucking my tits, i tried to touch the hem of my shirt in order to remove it, i couldn't stand one more second without looking at his eyes again - however, my palm met something harder, covered by a soft fabric. i groped his shaft and received a muffled moan from matt, still busy in my tits. now with my eyes open i could finally take my clothes off, revealing matt with his messy hair, beard wet from rubbing his face against his own kisses, lips swollen.
“look at me baby” i called and carressed his cheek, “you said you wanted to sleepover and now look at you, already a mess for mommy...”
“i'm s-sorry, mommy” he started, “can't help it, you taste so good”.
“yeah? did you miss me?” i teased, starting to drag myself over his thigh once again. “we saw each other two days ago”
“it's too much” matt complained, hands going to my hips, helping me set a proper pace. “needy again”, he glanced at tent on his shorts, where my palm rested.
“is mommy's baby needy?” i almost mocked him and he nodded pathetically, but still not letting me take full control as he started to pump his legs' muscles, making my pussy clench. i opened my mouth, but nothing came out of it. matt's grip tighetned and he forced my body down, completely leading my movements.
“mommy seems needy as well” matt spoke, smashing his lips against mine. i let out a frustrated whine, wanting to feel more - i needed him inside of me. “aren't you?”
“yes- fuck” i said, trying to come back to my senses regain control of the situation “babe, be a good boy for me hm?"”
when i finally stroked matt's boner, his hands rapdly went to my ass, both palms groping it harshly as i entered inside his pants. i wrapped my fingers around his aching cock, and being the good boy he was, matt lifted up his hips, allowing me to pull down his shorts and reveal his hardened dick. he touched my waistband in response, silently asking if he could do the same to me. i mimicked his moves, letting the fabric slide down my legs.
“thought i had told you to not wear panties to bed” he said, pulling the strings of my underwear. “isn't mommy supposed to be good as well?” matt was driving me crazy with all the teasing.
i suddenly started to move my fist up and down, quickly jerking him off. matt was used with me starting slow and building up his excitement until he climaxed. but tonight, it didn't seem like he wanted to be treated kindly. matt threw his head back and closed his eyes, groaning loudly “f-fuck!”
i brushed my thumb over his tip, matt’s body immediately reacting, jointing his hips forward into my fist. i dragged my finger on his slit as matt’s nails dig into my skin, spreading the pre-cum down his shaft. his breathing got heavier, chest rising and falling quickly while he bit every inch of skin he could reach.
“not talking back anymore?” i asked, gradually stopping my motions, receiving a groan in response.
“mommy, don’t be mean” he pleaded as his sneaky fingers made their way to my entrance, pulling my panties to the side. he kissed my neck, making my eyes roll as i melted into his touch.
“matthew” i caught his attention since i didn’t really use his full name often. “stopping teasing so fucking much and just fucking say it”. he widened his eyes before letting the grin grow wide on his face.
“please, please, please” he said, “ride me, momma”i immediately got out of his thigh, adjusting myself to be in between his legs. i could feel matt’s cock being lazily dragged against my now bare pussy, panties removed as soon as i got up.
i lowered myself on his shaft, nearing my throbbing cunt to his leaking tip. both of my hands went to matt’s shoulders, looking for balance as his grabbed my hips, helping me fully sit on his length. matt’s dick was huge, stretching my walls as he hid his face on the crook of my neck, tickling beard making me giggle as i tried to adjust myself to his size.
“wasn’t so hard, was it?” i asked, getting comfortable to move my hips up. as i started riding, matt wouldn’t say a word, only muffling moans in my ear. he denied with his head, whining as i fastened my pace.
“c-close” he said, gripping tighter. “mommy- fuck”
“hold for me baby” i spoke, already out of breath, bouncing harder on his dick. matt decided to stick his face on my boobs and dragged his tongue along my skin, biting my nipple and holding me by my waist, jointing his hips forward in order to reach his high quicker.
“yes baby, just like that” i praised, matt now pounding mindlessly into me. “good boy, good boy” and that’s what took for him to snap, groaning loudly as his cock twitched and he released the knot on his lower belly, spurts of his warm cum filling my insides.
his spasms brought me closer to the edge, but i wouldn’t stop riding him. i kept on bouncing on his cock, now in search of my own climax. “mommy- mommy, fuck!” matt cried from the overstimulation. his whimpers got louder and so did my moans as my orgasm washed over me, mouth hanging open with my trembling body as i came over matt’s shaft.
i was too tired to remove myself, letting my weight fall over him. matt rolled us over, both of us laying in my bed. he turned to the side and pulled out, the mix of our realeases running down my legs and staining my sheets. matt let out a chuckle as he wrapped his arms around me, bringing me closer to his chest.
“should we sleep now?” i asked, running my fingers through his tummy.
“kid” he called, pointing to my bedroom widow. “the sun is already up” he spoke - as if this was gonna stop us from sleeping till noon. “but that’s why i came here, right? sleepover”
“of course, you’re always so clever” i rolled my eyes and giggled, allowing my body to relax next to his. i closed my eyes and knew that, while matt was around, the bad dreams would no longer come.
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taglist (drop a 🌸!): @thepubeburgler @submattenthusiast @pearlzier @mattsfavbitchhh @her-favorite @bugeyedgrl @mattswhore-44 @sturncakez @riowritesitall @joemamaaa42069 @mattttypooh @sturnsmia @sturnthepot
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Hi! congrats for 700 followers!! 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼 i love your fics and one shots <3
following the game… can i suggest Navy (ofc) Rabbit and if possible starfish too 🥺🥺🥺
Thank you 🫶🏼
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HI SORRY THIS TOOK A BILLION YEARS BUT GUESS WHAT IT'S DONE NOW :) thank you for your patience sweet friend
Pairing: Trafalgar Law x Female Reader
Trope/Prompt: Friends to Lovers x Body Worship
Summary: Law finds out you've never had an orgasm. A doctor treats a patients ailments. You get the idea. MINORS DNI
WC: 3100 hehe
TWs: inexperienced reader, alcohol consuption, fingering, oral sex f receiving, power dynamic kinda, smooth talking Law, body worship and praise, pet names, ugh it's porn.
Climax (+18)
——
Sure, the Heart Pirates weren’t the scariest or the biggest or the baddest pirate crew out there… but they were still pirates at the end of the day. The Heart Pirates could drink. Although Law himself didn’t indulge in as many rowdy evenings as the other members of his crew, he still enjoyed socializing with them. They were his crew, after all. 
This particular evening, Law found himself bored of his work and decided to venture out from his office and into the common areas of the ship. Law shuffled tiredly towards the sound of glasses clinking and slurred voices talking over each other. He almost decides to turn back to his bedroom and try to get some shut eye. His back ached, the twinge in his muscles pleading with him to go to sleep, but he hears something else. Your lilted giggle floats through the metal halls of the submarine and straight into his ears. He wanted to at least see you before he went to bed… something sweet to think about as he fell asleep… 
“Yeah, okay well you’re stupid, so.” You sip from your freshly cracked beer and roll your eyes at Shachi. 
“Wow! What a good insult, y/n! You’re so fucking creative!” Shachi jeers at you with a big fake smile on his face. “I set you up, and you lost! You have to finish your drink, I don’t care that you just opened a new one!” 
“Unless you want me to barf on your cards, probably not.” You chuckle. 
“And I have seen her throw up. It is NOT cute.” Ikkaku pipes up. Ikkaku leans in and whispers purposefully loudly to Penguin. “Shes a scream-puker.”
“Okay so, I am not a scream-puker!” You defend yourself. 
“Yeah, you are.”
Your head whips around towards the galley door. Law stands there leaning against the frame, looking exhausted, but that wasn’t out of the ordinary for him. 
“Last time you had the flu I thought we were under attack and sounded the Tang’s defensive alarm.” Law says as he smirks at you. 
You pout and turn back to the table. 
“Okay that one time… and I was really sick, you know!” You huff. 
“Room for one more?” Law grabs a beer out of the fridge and sits down at the dining table without waiting for a response. 
“Of course, Captain!” Ikkaku chimes in. “We were just telling Shachi he has to finally tell that girl from the last island to stop calling him.” 
“She’s sooooo hot though! And she’s totally into me!” Shachi pleads his case. 
“We will never see her again!” You interject. 
“So? She doesn’t know that! And besides, the phone sex is better than nothing-” 
“You’re having phone sex? Here? On my ship?” Law immediately butts in and cocks his head in confusion. 
“… is that? Is that not cool? Did we have a rule about that or something?” Shachi questions. 
“No.. it’s just vile, Shachi.” Law shakes his head. 
“Hah! He thinks you’re fuckin’ gross!” Ikkaku points and laughs directly at Shachi who was making quite the face. You couldn’t help but laugh. 
“Oh whatever, I’ve been getting the best sleep of my life thanks to this! I’m like, almost twice as productive as I normally am!” He tries to build his case back up. 
“Why?” You ask, curious what those things had to do with each other. 
“What do you mean? Everyone knows how great the sleep is after you finish, am I wrong?” 
“You are correct there.” Penguin adds, sipping his beer. Ikkaku hums in agreement.
“Hah, okay. Wouldn’t know.” You add softly, secretly hoping no one would hear you. 
“What?” Ikkaku turns to you and asks. 
“Nothing it’s just that I… wouldn’t…? Know..?” Really pleading with your eyes for her to read between the lines and you wouldn’t have to say it out loud yourself. 
“Wait okay… you’ve never… had an orgasm?” Ikkaku’s eyes widen. 
“Correct.” You take a deep breath. “At least I don’t think I have.” You feign a laugh. 
“Oh you’d KNOW.” Shachi affirms from across the table, also staring at you with a bewildered expression. “Woah… that’s crazy. Are you a virgin or something?” He continues. 
“No!” You defend yourself. “The guys I’ve been with just suck, apparently. Can we stop talking about this?” You knit your eyebrows together and rub your eyes. 
“No way this is fascinating. How old are you? Twenty five? And you’ve never had an orgasm? Like never once? Even by yourself?” Ikkaku probes further. 
“Oooookay guys I never miss a good time to shut the fuck up, so I am going to head to bed!” You stand up from the table and straighten out your boiler suit. You were met with pleas and apologies from your crew mates, while your captain remained stoic during the entire exchange. You felt his eyes burning a hole through you as you left the galley. 
You swiftly make your way through the metal corridors of the ship towards your stateroom. You weren’t upset at your crew mates, it really was fascinating how you had made it this long in your life without feeling the peak of physical pleasure. It wasn’t for lack of trying, you had tried several times to pleasure yourself… and taken a small handful of lovers, none of whom could make you cum. 
You slip off your boiler suit and let it fall to the floor in an off-white heap. You pick out some grey pajamas, a thin camisole and matching shorts, throw it on and sit on your bed to brush out your hair. You untie your hair from the thick bun on your head and let it cascade down your bare shoulders. 
You had almost finished brushing our your locks when you notice the room has somehow changed… as if in the blink of an eye everything was sheathed in a faint blue glow. A familiar blue… 
“Wait no!” You could barely yelp out before you ass meets a different surface in an instant. “Ah!” You gasp and open your eyes to see that you’re no longer in your own bed, but in Law’s. You blink rapidly for a few moments to try and regain your surroundings. You catch your breath. 
You look up and see Law standing at the edge of his bed, looking at you with his shirt unbuttoned. Did he already have it unbuttoned when you were drinking… or did he take it off since then…? 
“Gods, Law.” You sigh and shake your head. “You can’t keep doing that to people. You could have just called my snail or something.” 
“Heard Shachi’s been keeping the line busy tonight.” Law looks down at your barely covered form on his bed. You push your legs up to your chest and wrap your arms around them. He smirks. “So… is it true?” Law walks slowly around to the side of the bed, eyes never leaving yours. He was like an animal stalking its prey. 
“T-the orgasm thing?! T-thats what you brought me here to talk about?!” You could feel your cheeks flush bright red. You sink your head further behind your legs. “I-it’s really not a big deal…” You turn your eyes down to avoid his gaze. 
“You know, the human orgasm is really just a tool.” Law continues eyeing your body and ignoring what you had just said. “The reason it feels so good goes back to our earliest days of evolution. All living organisms, even plants, exist with one similar purpose in common. Do you know what that is, y/n?”
You pick your head up a bit from behind your knees. 
“T-to… n-not get eaten by a larger thing?” You sputter out.
“Reproduction.” Law answers his own question. “Every creature is designed with a primal need to create more of itself…” He paces towards his nightstand and back before taking his massive sword off his back and setting it against the bedpost. “The male orgasm is necessary for human reproduction, obviously. But the female orgasm…” He trails off and you look up and lock eyes. “Is it a bit more complicated…” 
“O-okay?”
“Some professionals say the spasming of the female reproductive organs during orgasm allows for easier penetration through the cervix for the ejaculate to pass through… and some say the female orgasm doesn’t even exist at all…” 
“Are you seriously doctor-ing me about this?!?” You finally find your voice a bit stronger in your throat. “I’ve lived this long without it and-“
“I however, y/n, don’t care what the purpose of it is. And I do know it exists. And I plan on giving you at least one this evening.” Law says as he sheds his button down off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. Tattoos on full display, his chiseled abdominal muscles right at your eye level paired with the topic of conversation made you press your legs together even harder. 
“C-captain that is highly unnecessary and unprof-“ You try to protest shakily. 
“Nonsense.” Law steps so his thighs are against the edge of the bed. His right hand comes up to drag two fingers up your calf and rest his palm on your knee. He rubbed soft circles onto your knee with his thumb. “Now if you’re done being so stubborn, we can get started.” 
You leaned back on your elbows and blinked up at the man standing before you, your captain. You couldn’t believe this was really happening, but you were too stunned to question it. You trusted him with your life and more, why not let him try and help you?
“Alright.” You say softly, more to yourself than to Law. 
“Good. Now take your clothes off.” 
You cock your head back in surprise and your eyes widen. 
“Getting straight to it I guess…” You chuckle nervously. 
“We can go slower, if you’d like?” Law takes his hand off your leg, a genuine look of care in his grey eyes. 
“No no! I-it’s fine! I just didn’t, you know… like… well I wasn’t really planning for anyone to see me naked tonight is all!” You say awkwardly. 
“The only thing I care about tonight is pleasuring you. Will you let me?”
You don’t say anything in response, but you lift your thin grey camisole over your head and throw it to the floor. You didn’t look up to see Law’s response, you just shimmied your shorts down your legs and resumed your position laying on Law’s bed. 
Fully bare in front of your captain, you could feel your cheeks become hotter than they’ve ever been. 
“So what should-“ You begin.
“Fucking gorgeous.” Law interrupts. 
“S-sorry?” You question. 
“You are so fucking hot. So pretty.” Law was no longer staring into your eyes, but raking his gaze all over your naked body. “Spread your legs for me, yah?” Law asks, a bit more pleading than his normal demanding tone. It was like something shifted in him once you had taken your clothes off. He returns his hand to your knee, bringing his other hand as well this time to gently push your legs open to expose your sex to him. You hear him suck in a breath. 
Suddenly, Law pounces on you. You’re knocked back on the bed further and your head hits the mattress. Law chuckles playfully above you as he supports himself on his hands, black shaggy hair falling towards your face. 
“Hi.” He grins down at you. 
“H-hi..” You manage to smile back. Law leans down further and begins placing wet kisses along your neck, craning your head to the side almost involuntarily.  “O-oh okay.. t-that’s fine… AH!” You feel a cold hand pinch your left nipple.  
“So sensitive… this is going to be easy..” You feel Law’s mouth curve into a smile as he litters more kisses on you, this time across your collarbone. He moves his head lower and captures your right nipple in his soft lips and sucks gently. You let out a long sigh and throw your head back against the mattress further. Quiet gasps left your mouth as he worked your chest in his hands and tongue. 
Without fully realizing that Law’s hand had left your breast, you feel it cup your mound firmly without warning. You try to close your legs instinctively at the sudden contact. 
“Ah ah, no y/n. You’ve been hiding this pretty thing from me for too long.” Law says as he pulls back from your chest. He pressed his fingers against the top of your slit and started rubbing it in circles. “I promise it’ll feel so good.”  
Law leans up and places a gentle kiss on your parted mouth, you were too dazed to kiss him back just yet. He pulls away and settles himself on the floor on his knees in front of where you were laying. Strong arms hook under your knees and drag you swiftly so that your legs were hanging off the bed and your sex was mere inches from his hungry gaze and spit-slicked lips. 
“Even more fucking beautiful than I’d imagined…” Law says as he spreads your pussy with his thumb and forefinger, exposing your throbbing clit and dripping hole to him. “So eager and ready for me…” 
“Wait you imagi- SHIT!” You cry out as you feel Law’s hot tongue lap at your clit. It was so good, so thoughtful, so precise… he knew exactly what he was doing. “Oh my god-“ You had never received better head and he was only just getting started… maybe he was going to fulfill his promise. He alternative between suckling at your sensitive pearl and taking wide swaths over your whole sex with his entire mouth, as if he was trying to drink up every last drop your pussy was offering him. 
“So sweet…” You could barely understand what Law was muttering about, he was so drunk off your essence that all you could really hear was pained moans and groans of “mmhmmpph” as he enjoyed your taste. Your back was arching off the bed and you grabbed at Law’s hair, pulling him impossibly closer to you as you wanted to make sure he kept going. 
You moaned loudly as he slipped two fingers into your eager hole. He distracted you with harsh sucks to your clit as he crooked his fingers upwards inside of you. 
“Wait fuck!” You cry out, feeling a foreign sensation as Law pulled on that spot inside your walls. 
“Yeah there it is baby… there it is right there… let it happen…” Law cooed into your wetness as he continued to hammer into your sweet spot with his two fingers. He resumed his ministrations on your clit. 
“Law! I can’t!” You gasp as that warmth and pressure in your lower half grew stronger and tighter. 
“You can… get out of that pretty little head of yours, babe. Stop thinking and just let it go…” 
You try to center yourself and clear your mind, eliminating all thoughts except for the feeling of Law’s hands and mouth on you. It wasn’t hard to do, his presence took over your every sense entirely… the heady smell of his cedar cologne, the absolute determined and lust-filled look in his eyes that were peeking up at you from between your legs, and the overwhelming feeling of his mouth lapping up your juices with fervor. 
“I-I think… ah! Fuck!” Your shoulders lurch forward on their own, your walls starting to tighten sporadically around Law’s thick fingers. 
“You’re so close, pretty girl… just a little more… squeeze those tits for me, yah?” Law asks before returning his mouth to your throbbing nub. 
You do as you’re told and you wrap your manicured hands around your own breasts. You pull desperately at your nipples and cry out from the intense pleasure. 
“Law!” You moan your captain’s name as tears prick the corners of your eyes from the sensation. 
“Cum.” Law growls.
With a strangled scream, everything in your body released and your breath caught in your throat. Euphoric waves pulsed from your sex outwards and you felt the tears fall freely from your lash line as your legs shook. Your scream turned into a moan, and then fell into a whine as you suddenly felt too sensitive to have Law’s touch on you and you squirmed away. 
You caught your breath after what could have been 30 seconds or 5 minutes and take a look between your legs. Law stared up at you, face and bangs soaked in some sort of liquid… your liquid… and a stupid grin plastered across his face. 
“Holy fuck, I’m sorry I-“ You stutter out through heaving breaths. 
“Don’t.” Law stops you. “Don’t apologize. That was so fucking hot. Didn’t peg you for a squirter. Nice.” He rubs his hands on your thighs as he stands up. Your face flushes impossibly redder. “How do you feel?” Law asks. 
“I…” You flop your head back onto Law’s bed. “I feel like I got hit by a sea train but also incredibly light? My legs feel like pudding.” You sit back up on your elbows. “Law… captain… That was amazing…” You smile up at him. 
“Good.” Law looks down at the mess you’ve made between your legs and on his comforter. He looks down at his chest and sees even more remnants of your release. 
“How about we get cleaned up before bed and I can show you a few more things, yah? You’re staying with me tonight.” Law offers you a hand and you stand up on shaky legs to follow him to the bathroom. 
“Hmmm maybe this time it can be your turn?” You glance down at Law’s obvious bulge straining against his spotted jeans. “I owe you one, right?” You smirk. 
— —
>:)
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Movie Posters- Miguel O’Hara x teen!spider!reader
The awaited Father’s Day fic :D love all of you, and I hope you like this<3333
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“Lyla?”
“Yeah?”
“What the hell is this?”
“It’s a cake, dumbass.”
“Yeah I know, dipshit. Why is it on my desk?”
“How should I know?” The AI shrugs, “maybe check the icing? Dumbass.”
The perpetually tired old spider rolls his eyes and opens the box to reveal a red and blue cake with his logo iced onto it. There’s a chocolate piece with writing on it.
“Get an empanada at exactly 11:26 am today for your next hint.” Miguel reads out, “I mean- sure I guess?”
From somewhere above, another spider in a purple suit smiles and disappears.
——
At exactly 11:26 am, Miguel is at taking the empanada from the spider behind the counter who also hands him a small box.Nodding in thanks, he looks at the post it on the plate.
“Good job, open the box after eating the food.”
He doesn’t waste time in scarfing the food down before opening the box.
A battery. And another note.
“Good job, at exactly 1:30 pm, go to Jessica’s quarters.”
“What?” He says out loud, attracting the attention of some of the other spiders, “nothing to see here.” He snarls and they all go back to eating in silence.
He internally groans, because he knows you’re behind this.
At one thirty, he glares as Jess smirks and hands him a paper bag filled with confetti.
Amongst the confetti, he finds another box.
Another battery, another note.
‘Almost done, now at five, go to the main hall of spider society to find the last part of your gift.’
“I’m going to kill that kid.” He swears as he carefully folds the paper and holds it as if it made of glass
“You’d kill yourself before letting anything harm her.” Jessica replies.
He doesn’t answer, only clenching his jaw in response to his colleague’s words.
Because nothing has ever been truer.
———
At five sharp, he opens the doors to the main hall to find a single spotlight shining onto a table with the last box on it.
He rips the ribbon wrapped around it and opens it to find a remote with a single bright red button and another note.
‘Two batteries and one remote. You know what to do, wiseguy.
Also, happy Father’s Day ;)’
He has never assembled something faster, as he quickly puts the batteries in the remote. And hesitantly presses the button.
The spotlight switches off and the momentary darkness in the hall is then replaced by a single hologram of a butterfly flying around him.
It rests on his nose and flies around him, as if wanting him to follow it. In front of him, a portal opens and the butterfly flies through it, expecting him to follow.
On the other side is what is supposed to be a media room. Complete with wooden panelling and a projector and speakers. He sees posters of what used to be his favourite movies and songs. Photos of his favourite soccer players. His hand moves to over his mouth at the photo of him and Gabriella.
“Don’t be mad.” Your voice reaches his ears and he whirls to see you look at him nervously, “i wanted to make this special.”
He clenched his jaw and scoffs, looking around the room once more, he eyes the empanadas and the movie, his favourite, ready to be watched.
He then looks you in the eye, and for the first time in entire time you’ve known him, you feel nervous.
He stalks towards you and after a few seconds of painful silence, he wraps his arms around you and hugs you.
“Oh honey, why would I be mad?” He whisper into your hair.
You let out a sigh of relief, “i know how much she meant to you, she needed to be here today. I..know I’m not your real daughter or anything, but you’re my dad.” You hug him tighter, hiding your face in the crook of his neck, and he gingerly picks you up.
“You’re my kid. Understand?” His voice is shaky.
You nod and he puts you down, a small smile on his face.
You giggle, “wanna watch the movie?”
His smile turns into a smirk, “come on what are we waiting for?”
Your smile disappears, “wait, shit! I forgot my glasses!”
“I thought spiders had 10/10 vision?” He raises an eyebrow.
“Sorry that your spider is a blind bat.” You snark.
“You’re hilarious.” He munches on the popcorn you’d made for him.
“Yeah I know.” You grin and open a portal to get your glasses.
A few minutes nts later, you emerge, a frown on your face. You go to stand in front of him and he looks up at you, “What?”
“They were on my head the whole time.”
“Oh were they?” He hums, “must’ve missed em. I have horrible eyesight.”
“Asshole.” You roll your eyes and adjust your glasses as you plop down next to him and start the movie.
He throws popcorn into your open mouth, “don’t talk to your father that way.”
“Shut up.”
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moviesismylife · 9 months
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Overprotective mate (Azriel x f!reader)
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Summary:
You offer Azriel a place at your house, to get away from Nesta and Cassian’s lust. You get injured on a mission for Rhys, and Azriel goes all mother hen mode.
Warnings:
Mentions of intimacy
Blood, injury
Mentions of alcohol
Tropes:
Who did this to you?
Friends to lovers
Note:
Hey lovelies, this is my first fic on here, so please be nice. I really enjoy writing and drooling over fictional characters, and I know you do too. So let’s feed our delusion together. I know y’all are thirsting over Azriel as much as I am.
Enjoy x
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Y/n
I knock on Nesta and Cassian’s door, clothed in my fighting leathers.
The door knob twists and the door freaks, as I spot Nesta’s head poking through the door.
“Y/n, what are you doing here?” She asks as he opens the door fully.
“Coming to see you, and also to talk to Azriel about something” I tell her.
She steps aside to let me in, and I do. The door closes behind me, and the warmth of the house hits my body.
My back is facing her, so she walks around me to face my front.
“Sorry about the mess, I was going to clean it up, but I got a little distracted” she says, a hint of a smirk on her lips.
“Okay ew, I did not need to know that” I say, making a disgusted face, and she just chuckles in response.
“Nes who’s here” a male voice says, as it enters the hallway we’re standing in.
“Cassian” I say smiling at him.
“Y/n!” He squeals, and runs over to hug me.
He lifts me off the floor easily, and spins me around.
I laugh, as I hug him back.
He lets me down, and stands next to Nesta.
“Where’s Az?” I ask them both.
They look towards the living room, and I take that as a hint.
I leave my weapons in the hallway, and head into the living area.
As I enter I can’t spot him, but I hear some noises coming from the kitchen, so naturally I head towards them.
When I enter, I spot Azriel with his back to me.
He has a towel slung over one of his shoulders, and the water is running in the sink. He’s clothed in his Illyrian fighting leathers, sculpting his body like a god.
“You just got done with your morning workout?” I ask, to make him aware of my presence.
He turns around, not at all startled, and just leans against the counter.
“Y/n. What are you doing here?” He asks, as he sips from the water bottle he must have been filling up.
Fuck he looks insanely good. His hair is damp from his workout, and his cheeks are slightly tinted. His skin is glowing from the sweat, but he still manages to smell absolutely divine.
“I’m actually here to talk to you” I say, as I place my elbows on the kitchen isle in front of me, leaning forward.
“Okay…about what?” He asks me, putting down his water bottle.
“Well I have an offer for you” I tell him.
“What kind of offer?” He questions.
“To come live with me, instead of the two horndogs you’re living with right now” I answer him.
He raises his eyebrows in confusion.
“Look I have a spare room in my little cottage on the edge of the city, and I’m barely ever home. So do you need somewhere private and quiet to stay, my place is open” I explain to him.
“Oh uhm, are you sure?” He asks.
Honestly I’m kind of shocked he’s agree so quickly. I mean I would want to get away from Nesta and Cassian’s fucking too, but I expected him to mull it over more.
“Yeah of course. It’s no trouble. Besides as I said, I’m almost never home, so you’d basically have the place to yourself” I tell him.
“That’s generous of you, but I would have to talk to Nesta and Cassian about it first” he says, as he puts his towel down on the counter.
“Yeah, no of course” I say, and he gives me a slight nod, before walking off to find them.
*about 15 minutes later*
“Why do you have to leave us Az? I liked having you here” Cassian whines, as me and Azriel are standing in the hallway, ready to leave.
“It’s okay babe, we’ll have the house all to ourselves now” Nesta grins at him.
That makes him shut up, and grin back.
I roll my eyes and pick up my weapons.
“You’ll be free to visit anytime” I tell them both, and they nod at me.
“Okay you ready?” I ask Azriel, as I offer up my arm.
He links his in mine, and I winnow us out.
——————
We land in my own hallway, and I let go of his arm.
Again, I put my weapons down, and he does as well.
“Okay, you want me to show you around?” I turn to look at him.
He just nods. Not exactly a man of many words.
I walk left and into the living room.
“Okay, so here is the small living area, and in there is the kitchen” I say, pointing to an archway leading from the living room.
Then I walk back into the hallway.
“That door leads to a small bathroom” I hint to the door on the right.
“Okay that’s everything downstairs, so let me show you upstairs” I start walking up the stairs.
I can hear him following me as I lead us both up to the second floor.
As we reach the top of the stairs, there is a little hallway, with several doors on each side.
“Okay so uhm, this door leads into my room, and a private bathroom that connects with it” I say as I hint for the door on the left.
I walk in a little further, until I reach the first door on the right.
“And it’s basically the same in here, but you can feel free to explore it yourself” I continue.
He just nods in understanding.
I walk further until I reach two glass doors. I open them and walk out into a little balcony.
“So this is just a little comfort place, but I mostly use it for reading, drinking, and a landing spot for when I fly in” I explain to him.
Then I turn around to face him.
He’s just looking around him, studying everything.
“Okay well, I have to leave, but I’ll be back sometime tonight. I’ll try not to make a sound” I say, and he snaps his head to mine.
Again he just nods, and I take that as a hint for me to leave.
I turn around to walk back into the house when he speaks.
“Y/n?”
I turn around again to face him.
“Thank you” he smiles softly.
“Of course” I smile warmly back, before turning back around again, and walking into the hallway.
*hours later*
I winnow into my room, and land on the floor with a thud. I try to be more quiet as I stumble back steadily on my feet.
The wound on my hipbone is throbbing, and I need to attend to it now.
I promised Azriel I’d be quiet when I returned home, but I’ve not done so well this far.
I make my way over to my bathroom, grabbing some rubbing alcohol and a cloth. Then I stumble back into the bedroom, and take a seat on the bed.
I drop my weapons and every other thing I was carrying on the floor, as I try to unbutton my corset.
Fuck why does it have to be so difficult. I try not to moan out in pain, as my wound keeps on throbbing.
I was attacked by several water wraiths on my mission for Rhys. And I made my way out fine, except for the open wound on my hipbone.
But luckily I achieved what I wanted, and I was able to retrieve the item he sent me for.
Although that would be no help if I couldn’t deliver it to him in the morning. And right now, by the looks of the wound, I needed some serious healing.
There was some kind of poison in my wound and I’d try to extract it with my magic, to no avail.
I’d have to go to a healer tomorrow, but now I just wanted sleep.
I finally pull off my corset, and throw it on the floor, as I lift up my white linen shirt to get better access to the wound.
I grab the cloth and rubbing alcohol, pouring some on it, as I press the cloth to my flesh.
I scream in pain, as the alcohol connects with my open and fresh skin. Blood is already dripping everywhere, and I bite down on my lip to refrain from screaming again.
The last thing I want is to wake up Azriel.
The someone bursts through my door.
“Y/n!” Azriel says panicked, as he flings the door open.
I snap my head to him, and curse myself for waking him.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you” I apologize as he heads over to me.
“What happened?” He asks, avoiding my apology.
He bends down in front of me, and kneels as he takes a look at my hand pressed firmly on my wound.
“Let me see it” he demands, as he looks up at me.
“No I’m fine. Go back to bed” I argue, as I wave him away.
“There’s no fucking way I’m leaving you like this” he curses, and I’m shocked at his sudden angry tone.
He notices and softens, as he speaks again.
“Just let me help you” he pleads, looking into my eyes, and I give up.
I raise my hand and cloth from the wound, revealing to to him.
“Who did this to you?” He ask as he removes the cloth slowly from my hand.
I let him.
“Water wraiths” I answer, as he moves his hand to my shirt.
He lifts it slightly higher, and I shiver as his fingers grazes my skin lightly.
He looks up into my eyes asking for permission to tend to my wound.
I just give him a slight nod, and he presses the cloth carefully onto my skin again.
I wince, as I grab onto his shoulder in reaction.
He cleans the wound thoroughly, and patches me up. He even uses some of his own magic to soothe out the pain.
As he’s finished I immediately feel relief wash over me.
“You’re gonna have to see a healer tomorrow” he says a he takes the alcohol and cloth into the bathroom.
“I will. After I talk to Rhys” I tell him.
“He sent you on this dangerous mission?” He questions as he turns around to walk back into my bedroom.
I don’t answer him, and use my magic to change from fighting leathers into a simple nightgown.
I let my hair stay in the messy braid it already is, before I crawl into my bed.
“Goodnight Azriel, and thank you” I say as I get comfortable.
He sighs and heads over to my door. He halts before walking out.
“Anytime you need me, I’m here. No matter what it is” he says, and I don’t get to respond before he vanishes out of my room, closing the door behind him.
I try not to think about it, as I close my eyes, waiting for sleep to pull me in. And eventually it does.
*next morning*
I open my eyes to sunlight beaming through my curtains. I shift to sit up in my bed.
As I lift my nightgown, I notice that my wound has worsened overnight. Although the throbbing sensation isn’t as bad as it was last night. Thanks to Azriel.
I get out of bed, and pull on some pants, as well as a red loose linen shirt, also pulling on a pair of simple black boots.
I look in the mirror to spot my hair a mess, so I take out the braid, and twist my hair into a messy bun, using a large hair pin to secure it.
Then I decide to head downstairs.
As I walk down, I hear some grumbling and clinking of metal, sounding from the kitchen.
I walk into the living room, and further into the kitchen, where I spot Azriel, cooking food.
That’s something I never thought I’d see.
He must notice my presence, because he turns his head slightly to the side, sliding his eyes over my body.
I can’t help but feel tingles as he roams his gaze over me.
“You feeling better?” He asks as he turns his head back around.
I debate whether I should tell him about the spreading of the wound or not. But I do, as he’s probably gonna demand to see it anyways.
“A little yeah, your magic helped a lot with the pain. But the poison has spread” I say, sitting down at the small kitchen table.
“Let me see it” he demands as expected, turning his full body around to face me.
I sigh, and lift up my shirt to the expose the infected wound.
He curses under his breath, and strides over to where I’m sitting.
“I’m gonna kill Rhys for letting this happen to you” he says angrily.
“Az it’s fine. I chose to go. Rhys didn’t force me” I explain to him.
“You got hurt y/n. Badly” he looks into my eyes.
He’s standing in front of me, making me look up at him.
“I told you, I’m fine” I say again.
He lifts my chin up slightly, placing a hand under it.
“I’m coming with you to the town house” he says and walks away, back to whatever he’s cooking.
I sigh, knowing I won’t be able to stop him. If he wants to come, he’s gonna come.
——————
Me and Az are standing in the living room in the town house with Rhys.
“Why did you let her leave when you knew how dangerous it was?” Azriel asks Rhys mad.
He’s been cursing out Rhys for the past five minutes now, for letting me go on a mission with him. I’ve been trying to stop Az but he won’t listen to me.
“Azriel. She wanted to go herself. And I’m sorry she got hurt. But you can’t put this on me” Rhys says calmly, trying to reason with Az.
“I don’t fucking care! This IS your fault! If it was Feyre that got hurt, how would you have reacted then huh?” Az argues, but Rhys is just standing with his arms crossed over his chest.
“Do not bring Feyre into this” Rhys warns.
“Bring me into what?” A soft voice asks from behind.
We all turn our heads to spot Feyre, Mor, Nesta and Cassian all standing in the hallway, looking at us.
“It’s nothing guys…” I try to tell them.
“Then why does Azriel look like he’s gonna rip Rhys’s head off?” Cassian asks confused.
I sigh heavily, taking a deep breath.
“Rhys sent y/n on a dangerous mission and almost got her killed. And then he doesn’t even care” Azriel explains to them, and they all turn their heads to Rhys.
“He’s being over dramatic. Y/n wanted to go herself” Rhys tries to explain calmly to the others.
“Over dramatic? Have you seen her fucking wound?” Azriel curses, very angry.
Everyone looks shocked at Azriel’s swearing. He’s the quiet type, and rarely gets angry in front of others. Especially angry with us.
“Az…please calm down..” I say breaking the silence.
“I won’t calm down when you could have died y/n” he yells at me.
“Why are you yelling at me? I’m just trying to talk to you” I answer a little annoyed at him for yelling at me, when it’s Rhys he’s actually angry with.
He doesn’t answer and just tries to steady his breathing instead. Then Cassian walks over to me.
“Let me see your injury y/n…” he tells me quietly, to not trigger Azriel.
I lift up my shirt to show the infected wound, spreading more and more over my body.
He slaps his hand over his mouth, as he looks at it, and the girls run over to see how bad it is. They too look scared as they inspect the wound.
“Rhys this is not a normal wound. I think she’s been poisoned” Feyre says as she looks at her mate.
He walks over to me to see it for himself, and raises his eyebrows in shock as he sees it.
“Fuck. I’m sorry y/n. I shouldn’t have let you go on that mission for me” he apologizes.
“No it’s fine, I wanted to myself” I tell him, and he gives me an apologetic smile.
“Azriel please don’t be mad at him for this…” I say as I look over at him.
“Az come on man…we’ll take her to a healer” Cassian adds as well, trying to get his attention.
I sigh, moving away from the others and walking over to him.
He’s standing with his arms crossed over his chest, and I move my hands to them, to untuck his tight grip.
As I touch his arms, he rests a little into me, letting me touch him.
“You promised you’d go with me to the healer…” I say at a desperate attempt to get his attention.
Finally he looks up at me.
“Fine. But we’re leaving now” he agrees, but doesn’t show any emotion.
The others don’t say anything as he strides to the front door to leave as fast as he can.
I wait to follow him, turning my attention to the others.
“I’ll talk to him alright? He’ll be fine, he just needs to calm down” I tell them.
They nod their heads, and I move the front door, to leave with Az.
——————
We arrive at the healer, and a kind fae named Victoria inspects my wound.
I am sitting on a medical bed, while Azriel is standing in the corner, arms crossed over his chest.
“Your wound has been poisoned” Victoria says as she touches my skin slightly.
“Yeah we kind of figured that part out ourselves” I joke slightly.
She touches my wound and I wince.
“I’m sorry” she says, pulling away.
“It’s fine, just help me please” I say, stealing a quick glance over at Azriel.
His face is blank, watching every movement.
Victoria walks over to a little table, grabbing some herbs and medicine, before walking back over to me.
“I’ll put these herbs on your wound, and it should heal in about a week. I will also give you these pills for the pain. And I would highly advise you to take it slow, and not do anything to livid, so it can heal faster” she tells me, putting the herbs on the infected wound.
I nod my head in understanding.
“I’ll be careful, and postpone any energetic exercises until it’s fully healed” I tell her.
She smiles warmly at me.
“Should anything go wrong, you come to me alright?” She asks as she bandages up my wound again.
“Of course” I smile at her, standing up from the bed.
I walk over to the door and Azriel follows me.
“Oh and remember to change your bandage daily” she adds quickly, and I nod again, before walking out of her little office.
Me and Azriel walk into the sunny streets of Velaris, and a light breeze blows by.
“See I told you it was fine” I say, trying to lighten Azriel’s mood.
“You got lucky” he answers coldly, and I roll my eyes.
“Are you still in a mood? Stop being so over dramatic” I say as I turn to look at him.
“I’m not over dramatic. I’m just being protective. I hate seeing you hurt” he tells me and I feel my heart jump a beat at his words.
“Well I’m glad you care about me Az, but I don’t want you to flip out on everyone because I got hurt” I say, as I cross my arms over my chest.
He doesn’t say anything, and just looks down at the ground in silence.
I sigh.
“Can we go back to the town house now? And can you please promise me that you won’t stay mad at Rhys?” I ask him, and he looks up at me.
“I promise to try” he answers me, and I sigh in defeat, knowing that’s the best answer I’ll get.
Then we walk back, heading towards the town house.
——————
“We’re back!” I yell as we enter the town house.
I take off my shoes and coat and walk into the living room, where I find all of them chatting amongst themselves.
“Y/n how’d it go?” Rhys asks as Azriel comes up behind me.
“It went fine actually. The nurse put some herbs on my wound to kill the poison, and some pills for the pain. But it should be healed in about a week” I say smiling softly at him.
“That’s great y/n” Feyre tells me, and I smile at her too.
Rhys looks at Azriel staring behind me, and guilt flashes his face.
“Az…can we please squash it. It’s my fault I know. I shouldn’t have sent y/n on that mission” he says, looking at Azriel.
I hear Az sighing behind me, placing a gentle hand on my back, before speaking.
“Just don’t do it again” he says, accepting Rhys’s apology.
Rhys smiles contently.
Then I spit Cassian looking at the hand Azriel’s placed on my back, and he smirks.
Azriel notices Cassian too, and immediately pulls his hand back.
Cassian just chuckles at his reaction.
“Why don’t we go to Rita’s tonight? I think we all need it” I suggest.
“Can you drink with your injury?” Mor asks looking at me.
“Yeah as long as I don’t drink too much I should be fine. Tell you what I’ll be the responsible parent tonight” I answer.
“You know I could actually get down for that” Feyre agrees.
“Me too” Nesta adds.
“Me three” Cassian says, agreeing with everything his mate says.
The others nod in agreement as well.
“Okay great. We leave in thirty” I say, and walk towards the stairs, to go upstairs and get ready.
——————
I’m wearing a short, black, backless glitter dress, with some black heels. I’ve got my hair hanging down in loose waves, and some golden hoops in my ears.
I head downstairs to where the others are standing. Mor is wearing a red, satin, slit dress. Feyre is wearing a midnight blue, strapless dress. And Nesta is wearing an all black one, with long sleeves.
All the guys are clothed in the same black dress pants and shirts. The top buttons undone to show their muscular chests.
”Mor I love your dress” I smile at her.
“Thanks babes. You look hot ” she winks back.
“Yeah you look beautiful y/n” Azriel adds as well.
I look at him, kind of surprised at this sudden compliment. The others have the same reaction, as they look between us.
“Thanks Az…” I say awkwardly.
Feyre spots the obvious tension, and decides to interfere”
“Let’s go shall we?”
Rhys nods his head and opens the door, and we all leave.
——————
Azriel
I watch y/n as she dances and laughs with the other girls. She looks absolutely stunning, I can’t tear my eyes away from her.
I should have never anything earlier, although she didn’t seem to bother.
“Hey Az…you might wanna avert your gaze somewhere else for a while” Rhys says from beside me, in our little booth.
“What” I turn to look at him.
“You’ve been watching y/n like a hawk for the last thirty minutes now” he answers, smirking a little.
“What are you talking about?” I ask, even though I know he’s right.
“Az you’re completely eye fucking her” Cassian says as well, and I roll my eyes.
“I am not” I snap at him.
“Whatever you say” he grins.
I roll my eyes at him again, standing up.
“Where are you going?” Rhys asks confused.
“To get a drink” I answer shortly, and stride for the bar.
Y/n
“I’m tired can we sit down?” Feyre asks as another song comes on.
“Yeah I’m tired too” Mor adds.
“Yeah okay” I say, and we walk out of the crowd.
I head towards our little booth, where Cassian and Rhys are both sitting. No Azriel though.
“Hey, you guys done already?” Cassian asks as Nesta sits down next to him.
“You try to dance for an hour straight” she snaps at him, and he just laughs, placing a hand on her thigh.
“Hey where’s Azriel?” Feyre asks, taking a seat next to her mate.
Mor moves next to Feyre and I move next to Nesta.
“He said he was getting a drink, but he’s been gone for a while now” Rhys answers, looking out in the crowd for him.
“Azriel never drinks” I say, as I take a sip of Cassian’s from the table.
“Hey” he snaps at me, but I just glare at him.
“Maybe you should go looking for him y/n” Nesta says, looking at me.
“Why me?” I ask her.
“Because no one else wants to” she answers shortly.
“Fine…” I sigh, and get up.
I walk over to the crowd again to see if I spot him. I try to look over all the dancing bodies, but I can’t see him. Instead I take a quick look over at the bar, but I don’t find him there either.
I stand up on my tiptoes, searching for him, when I feel a pair of two large hands on my waist.
I turn around quickly, to find two drunken hazel eyes staring at me.
“Azriel” I say in surprise, as he’s standing very close.
We’re in the middle of the crowd, with several sweaty bodies pressed up against each other, making very little space for us.
He keeps his hands on my waist, while trailing his eyes all over my body. I blush slightly at his gaze, but try to hide it.
His grip tightens, and he pulls me into him, making my hands go to his chest in support.
Then he angels his head, moving his gaze to my lips. His fingers trace the bare back that’s not covered by my dress, and I slightly shiver.
“Azriel what are you doing…” I say lowly, as his fingers trail over my bare skin.
He doesn’t respond and instead moves his head to my ear, whispering.
“You look beautiful my love…”
I feel heat rise to my cheeks again at his words.
“You’re drunk” I respond slowly.
“I still think you’re absolutely divine” he speaks again and I don’t move.
He moves away from my ear, only for his face to be inches from mine.
My breathing gets heavy and I struggle to keep eye contact. What is happening to me?
“We should head back to the others…” I tell him.
“Should we?” He questions, looking at my lips again.
“Yes…” I breathe out, pulling away from him hesitantly.
He lets go of me, and I turn away, walking away from the crowd once again.
I can feel him following me, so I don’t stop.
As we reach our booth, the others turn to look at me. And Azriel, who comes up next to me, placing a hand on my waist.
“I see you found him” Rhys says, gazing towards the hand on my waist.
“Uh yes I did” I respond, moving to sit next to Nesta again.
“I can’t believe I’m even saying this. But is Azriel drunk?” Mor asks, grinning a little, as she looks at him.
“Mhm…” I nod in reply.
Her grin turns even wider, and I see the others mouths turning up as well.
Then Azriel decides to move next to me, despite the also empty spot next to Mor, and sits down.
He doesn’t seem embarrassed, as he moves as close as possible to me.
I shift in my seat nervously, as his body heat and scent radiates onto my own.
“Hey buddy, why are you clinging to y/n so much huh?” Cassian asks, a wide smirk plastered on his face, and I glare at him.
“Yeah Az, please elaborate on this sudden infatuation with our dear friend y/n here” Mor adds, and I shoot her a glare too.
“What do you mean sudden…” Azriel responds shortly, as he turns his head to her.
Feyre and Mor gasp in shock, and Nesta chuckles as I blush badly.
“She’s so beautiful…” he mumbles, pushing some hair off my shoulder.
I sit completely still, as I feel his piercing gaze on me.
I hear Cassian struggle not to laugh his ass off, and I see the others grinning like hell.
“Hey Az…maybe we should go back” I say, turning to look at him.
“No don’t leave yet” Mor whines.
“No it’s fine, I’ll take him with me to my cottage. I promised to be the responsible parent right?” I say smiling a little.
“Maybe she’s right. I think Azriel needs to go to bed” Rhys agrees.
“Fine…” Mor sighs in defeat, and I smile a little.
Then I turn to Azriel again, moving to stand up. He rises from his seat, and I follow.
“Come on big guy…” I say as I link my arm in his and walk for the exit.
“Have fun!” Cassian winks and I flip him off.
The others laugh as I lead Azriel out of Rita’s.
——————
We arrive at my small cottage and I stumble us inside.
I flip off my heels and drag Azriel with me upstairs. Then I lead him into his bedroom and sit him on the bed.
As I try to walk away, he grabs my waist, pulling me in between his legs. I steady my hands on his shoulders in response.
He then rubs circles with his thumbs in soothing motion, and I tug my hair behind my ears.
His hands move up to my waist and up to my bare back again, pushing me closer to him. My thighs are touching his, and my hands have moved to rest comfortably on his neck and shoulders.
“I’m sorry for making you angry” he apologizes.
“I’m not angry Az” I answer him.
“You’re not?” He questions.
“No. I was annoyed with you, but not anymore” I tell him, as I move a hand to stroke his cheek.
He smiles slightly.
“Good”
One of his hands move to my neck, pulling it down towards his face. I follow his lead, leaning down.
He moves my face slowly towards his, before brining his lips to mine softly.
I’m taken back by surprise, but don’t hold back, as I get more comfortable. I decide to sit on his lap, and he immediately places his hands on my waist to keep me in place.
I kiss him passionately, keeping my hands on his face, to cup his cheeks.
But then I realize what I’m doing and pull away.
“Shit I shouldn’t have done that” I say, standing up from his lap.
“No y/n wait-“
“No you need to go to bed Azriel” I cut him off, striding towards the door.
“Y/n please” I hear him beg behind me, but I continue to walk out and into my own room.
When I get into my own bedroom, I shut the door closed, and throw myself on the bed.
I slip off my dress, and put an oversized t-shirt to sleep in. Then I force myself to go to sleep, pushing away all my feelings. And also the fact that Azriel is my fucking mate.
——————
I wake up and walk down into the kitchen. Azriel hasn’t woken up yet luckily.
I decide to grab some juice from the fridge, and drink straight from the bottle, before I hear steps entering the kitchen.
I don’t even turn around as his presence fills the room.
“Good morning…” he says quietly, heading over to where I’m standing.
“Morning” I respond shortly, not turning around.
He reaches the fridge and I turn around to face the counter, as he moves past me.
“Y/n about last night…I’m sorry” he starts to apologize.
“For what?” I ask boldly, my back still facing him.
“For leading you on, and making you kiss me. It was foolish of me” he admits, and I can feel him standing close.
“I wanted to kiss you” I say turning around, and leaning my back against the counter.
He only raises his eyebrows in shock and confusion.
“You were drunk, I just didn’t wanna take advantage of you” I continue, sitting up on the counter, my feet dangling off the edge.
My t-shirt is only long enough to cover my ass, so when I sit, it rises up my thighs. Azriel takes a notice of this and steals a glance at the bare skin of my thighs, before speaking.
“Well I appreciate that but uhm…actually I…” he stutters as he talks. Unusual.
“You what…” I urge for him to keep going.
He only walks closer to me, placing his hands on my thighs. I shiver at his touch, knowing his shadows can sense it.
“Say it Azriel…” I tell him as I wrap my arms around his neck.
“You’re my…” he hesitates.
I pull him closer to me, so our noses are barely touching.
“Mate” I finish for him, smashing my lips onto his.
He doesn’t think twice as his hands move to my waist, pulling me closer to him.
I keep my hands on his neck, running my fingers through his hair, as I kiss him passionately.
He’s so fucking good at this. His hands dig into my sides, and he opens his mouth, so I can slide my tongue in. And I do.
He kisses me more roughly, pulling and tugging at my shirt. His teeth graze my bottom lip as he slightly nibbles.
I pull away to catch my breath, only for him to crash his lips onto my neck instead.
I push my hair to one side, as he trails his tongue over my skin. Then he decides to start sucking instead. I let out a silent moan as he bites into my neck.
With that he pushes into me even more, making our lower abdomens graze each other.
“Y/n…” he groans, and I wrap my legs around his torso.
I pull his head up from my neck, so we’re face to face.
We make eye contact, and I move my hand to push some hair out of his face. Then I cup his cheeks, and lean in to place my forehead on his.
I close my eyes, and breathe in his scent and presence.
His hands rest on my hips, with my legs still wrapped loosely around him.
“I’m sorry…” he whispers.
I raise my head and open my eyes.
“For what?” I ask confused.
“For being such an idiot. I shouldn’t have let you get hurt, but I definitely shouldn’t have lashed out like I did. It’s just that you mean the world to me. If you get hurt, I get hurt. If you die, I die” he answers.
I can’t help but feel bad for him. He’s genuinely hurting because of this.
“Azriel…you mean the world to me too. Believe me, I wouldn’t have held back if you got inured either. It just upset me that you didn’t listen to me when I told you it was fine” I say, stroking his cheek soothingly with my thumb.
“I know love…and I promise I’ll listen you next time. Can you forgive me?” He asks, regret shining his eyes.
“There is nothing to forgive…” I answer, leaning in slowly to give his lips a comforting kiss.
He doesn’t stop me as I kiss him. This time the kiss is not filled with lust and hunger, but pure love and longing.
As I pull away again, I keep my hands on his neck, and he keeps mine on my hips.
“Breakfast?” I ask him softly, trailing fingers through his hair.
“Mhm” he nods, and leans in to give another quick and loving kiss.
We both smile through the kiss, and I feel every part of my body relaxing at his touch.
——————
“You know we’re gonna get bullied for centuries for this?” I say, as I take a bite of my fried egg toast.
“Oh trust me I know…Cassian is going to be a big pain in the ass to say the least” Azriel replies, as he eats too.
“As long as I get to have you all for mysel” I say, a hint of seduction in my voice.
He just cocks an eyebrow at me knowingly, and I take another bite of my food.
“We don’t have anything important planned today right…” he asks, not looking up at me, as he sips his juice.
“No I don’t think so…why?” I ask curiously.
He just shrugs, and I give him a playful look.
“I’m glad you moved in here with me…” I say, finishing my food.
“Me too…” he trails off as he also finishes up.
I grab my plate and cup, heading over to the sink to wash it. I hear Azriel following me from behind.
As I wash my dishes, he comes up behind me, placing his own in the sink. I wash his too, as his hands start to roam my body.
Still wearing my t-shirt, he presses into my back, running his hands up my thighs. I can already fell my body aching for him.
I truly underestimated the whole mating thing. When Rhys and Feyre told me they basically fucked each other with no breaks for a week, I only laughed at them. But now I want nothing more than to let Azriel do the same to me.
As his hands smoothes over my bare skin, a shiver runs down my spine. He lifts my t-shirt up to my waist, exposing my underwear.
One of his hands trail under my shirt, up towards my breast, while the other goes to my ass.
I lean my head slightly back, closing my eyes. His lips move to the bare skin of my neck, licking and kissing.
When his hand finally reaches my breast, he cups it, running his finger smoothly over the already hardened nipple.
I let out a slight moan, as he touches the sensitive spot. He just smirks into my neck, as he starts to suck it.
My hands find their way to the counter, grabbing it harshly, my knuckles turning white.
I continue to let out several whimpers and slight moans, as his hand and tongue devour me.
Then his hips grind into my backside. His bulge grazing into my ass. With that we both let out loud moans.
——————
“I thought we had nothing planned today…” I breathe out as Azriel’s head in between my legs.
“We didn’t. But apparently Rhys did…” he murmurs into my skin.
“I’m gonna kill him” I say, thinking about the dinner we have to attend in one hour.
“Me and you both” Azriel agrees, before sliding his tongue into me, earning a loud moan.
——————
“Geez I can practically smell what you’ve been doing from over here” Cassian says, putting a hand over his nose jokingly.
Me and Azriel just landed in the front veranda of the House of Wind, all dressed up for the dinner Rhys insisted we have.
I shoot Cassian a death glare, bumping into him on purpose as I walk past him.
“For your own sake. Keep your mouth shut Cass” I hear Azriel tell him as he follows me inside.
Everyone is seated at the dinner table, all dressed up. I take a seat next to Nesta, Azriel sitting next to me. Cassian comes in a moment later, sitting himself beside his mate.
I suddenly notice everyone staring and grinning at me and Azriel. Of course they know. They’re our family.
“You enjoyed yourself today?” Rhys smirks widely.
“I will literally murder you” I threaten him, but he just laughs.
“Your bond is really fucking strong. It almost makes me dizzy” Mor adds, looking over at me and Azriel.
I knew the mating bond was strong, but not as strong as they’re implying.
“It enhances itself once it’s been fulfilled. That’s why we can sense it so easily” Amren explains, looking between me and Az.
“Well I wanna say congratulations y/n and Azriel. You both deserve it” Feyre smiles at us both.
She is way too kind to be mated with the arrogant, baby high lord, Rhys.
“Thank you” Azriel smiles slightly at her.
“So how did it all happen? What made you finally give in?” Rhys asks, as he pours himself some wine.
“Do you need to know all the details?” I raise my eyebrows at him.
He just smirks at me, taking a sip of his drink.
“It was me” Azriel speaks up from beside me.
Everyone turns their heads to him, including me.
“What do you mean Az?” Mor questions.
“My stupid drunken ass kissed her when we got home from Rita’s” he tells everyone.
Several gasps echoes through the room. I myself let out a little sound of surprise.
“Damn Az…I don’t expect that. How did you handle that y/n?” Cassian asks me.
They’re all looking at me. Awaiting my response.
“I kissed him back. Only for a few seconds though until I got my shit together” I say.
“And then you just went to sleep?” Nesta ask confused.
I nod my head at her.
The other seem kind of confused as well, looking at us weirdly.
“And then when I woke up, I kissed her again. But she didn’t resist me that time” Azriel smiles proudly.
I roll my eyes, and hit him in the arm playfully. He just stifles a laugh.
“And then what…” Feyre asks intrigued.
Rhys raises his eyebrows at his mate’s sudden interest. But she just keeps her gaze on me and Azriel.
“And then the bond snapped together. I think you know what happens next…” I say, grinning a bit at the last part.
Azriel goes red out of embarrassment at my slight exposing. Cassian just throws his head back with laughter, and the others snicker as well.
“Well I just lost my appetite” Amren says, pushing her plate away.
“Please like you were gonna eat any of that anyways” Mor tells her, still kind of laughing.
Amren just rolls her eyes and glares at her, but Mor doesn’t seem a tiny bit bothered.
As the laughter quiets down, everyone starts pouring food onto their plates. Except for Amren. And the conversation flows back to other things.
Azriel puts his hand on my thigh, letting it rest there. And I don’t feel a tiny bit uncomfortable, as I let it stay there for the rest of the dinner.
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End Game 1
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, stalking, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: Your gaming buddy asks to meet up but it doesn't go exactly as planned.
Characters: Andy Barber
Note: get ready for the hate.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
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The tunnel lights up ahead of you, revealing the cubic rock walls as you plant torches in your stead. The eerie soundtrack of night time and the ominous groan of zombies looming somewhere in the cave have you uptight. Silently, you press on, digging and mining mindlessly, fingers mashing the buttons on your controller. 
“Hey, where are you?” Jacob’s voice startles you. 
You nearly forgot you’re playing co-op. You sniff and shake your head, cursing aloud as your shock has you succumbing to the arrow of a sneaky skeleton. You sigh as your possessions scatter and you spawn back in your bed. 
“Back home,” you say glumly, “just ate it.” 
“Ah, damn,” his deep voice rolls in your noise-cancelling headset, “sorry, hope that wasn’t me.” 
“No, I wasn’t paying attention,” you hum and sigh.  
“Ah,” he accepts and lets silence linger before he clicks his tongue, “what’s going on? Everything alright?” 
“Yeah, yeah,” you put the controller down, your avatar sitting on the geometric bed, “I just...” you stretch your neck and massage your scalp around the thick band of the headset, “got a lot on my mind.” 
“Right. I thought you were all done exams,” he says. 
“I am, but... packing. Going home. I called my old boss and turns out I’m not gonna have a job this summer. Gotta start over,” you yawn and rub your eyes, “what about you? Final exam tomorrow?” 
“Uh... yeah,” he hesitates as if he forgot. You do wonder why he isn’t cramming right now. You could never play minecraft all night the day before a final. “Easy stuff. I’m not worried.” 
You scoff. You wish you could say the same. All you’ve done is worry those last two weeks. Exams, getting home, getting a job. Your grandmother won’t very happy to find out you’ll be slumming it for a while. At least you tucked away some money through the semester. 
“Hey, if you need a few bucks...” Jacob offers. 
“What? Are you crazy? No way,” you exclaim, “really, no, I couldn’t. I’ll be fine. I just... I hate looking for jobs. You know how it is. Friggin awkward.” 
“It’s not a big deal. My dad sent me my birthday money so...” 
“Uh uh,” you deny him again, “that’s way too much. I couldn’t-- we haven’t even met.” 
“Mm, yeah, about that,” he exhales into his microphone, “I, uh, got an extra ticket to this Con. I figured out that’s it like the midway point between us so...” 
“A con? Oh, wow--” 
“Yeah, but I get that it would be expensive so maybe I could pay for your trip?” 
“Jacob,” you wiggle the controller restlessly, “I can't accept that. It’s so nice but... it’s a lot.” 
“I wouldn’t offer it was too much,” his voice is soft, meek, and defeated. You feel bad but you would feel worse taking advantage of his kindness. “We’ve been talking all year. I just figured it would be a good chance to meet up. It would be in public and something we both like so...” 
You scratch your neck as it speckles with heat. You don’t know what’s more insulting; yes or no. 
“Can I think about it?” You ask thinly. 
The line is quiet. You look at the screen and it goes dim from your idling. You hit the analog stick and fix your headphones. 
“Jacob?” You murmur. 
“Sure, think about it,” he says, his voice raspy and rocky. It’s strange. You’ve seen him in pictures and his voice doesn’t really match his appearance. He sounds a lot older than he looks. “It’s next month so lots of time.” 
“I’m sorry,” you cringe. “I just wouldn’t want to waste your money.” 
“Trust me, it wouldn’t be a waste,” he insists, “this last year has sucked. So much. You got me through it all.” His microphone scuffs, “studying, exams, all that stuff. It’s tough making new friends. Seems like everyone here knows each other from high school.” 
“Yeah, totally,” you agree.  
You’re not exactly the most popular person. You have people you know in each class but not too many friends you hang out with outside the lecture hall or library. So far, not too many people want to spend hours mining digital gold or racing cartoon characters around a rainbow track. 
“Well, you should probably get some sleep,” you yawn, “you got your big exam and... I gotta keep packing. Gotta catch the greyhound tomorrow night.” 
“Sure, uh, yeah, right,” his disappointment is potent, “hey, will you text me when you get home? Just so I know you made it.” He snorts, “god, I sound like my dad right now.” 
“Oh, of course,” you chirp back, “I’ll try to remember. Might be late.” 
“That’s fine. Just as long as you let me know.” 
“Don’t worry about me,” you assure him, “not ‘til I have to face my grandma. Ha.” 
“Yeah, good luck with that,” he says, “well... er...” 
“Good night,” you finish for him, “let me know how the exam goes too.” 
“Will do,” his timbre gets even lower, “night.” 
You sign off and shut down the console. Another yawn flows through you and waters in your eyes. You should sleep, you got a long day waiting for you, but you know it won’t be easy. Not with so much on your mind, not least of all, Jacob’s invitation. 
🎮
You text Jacob as you get on the bus, to make sure he doesn’t worry. It’s so sweet that he does, even some of your girlfriends don’t bother that much. Not that you mind the ‘hey, bitch’ Janet sends you every now and again to make sure you’re still alive. 
You fall asleep on the bus. You’ve never been one to sleep while travelling but you’re exhausted from a night of anxious tossing and turning. After spending all day packing up the last of your things and scouring your dorm room, you’re beat to hell. 
It’s midnight as you get to your grandmother’s house. She’s up reading another Stephen King classic in her rocking chair. She’s always been a night owl and a voracious book hound. She grumbles at you but doesn’t bother to ask how your trip was. 
“Hey, grandma,” you hike up your bag and smile.  
She growls again, eyes not leaving the page. You should know better by now not to interrupt her. You shoulder on and head down to the spare room where you spent most of your high-school career. You shut the door gently as the old hardwood floors creak with your weight and you drop your bag on the squeaky bed. 
You fish out your phone and plug it in as the battery flashes red with only two percent left. You leave it on the night table and stretch out, not bothering to change out of your hoodie and jeans. It’s not long before you descend back into the same dreams that marked your journey home. 
You wake up to buzzing. Your phone shakes the nightstand, rattling it against the bed frame. You groan and roll onto your side, reaching blindly for offending object. You hit the side button to dismiss the call.  
You blink away the bleariness and focus on the screen. Along with the missed call are several text messages. You squint as you expand the notifications. Jacob! You forgot to message. 
‘Hey, you home?’ 
‘Checking in. Must be busy getting settled in. Just let me know when you’re safe.’ 
‘Not meaning to be weird but everything okay?’ 
‘Please answer me. I’m worried.’ 
You drag your thumb around the keyboard, letting it predict your words; ‘sorry! I was so tired. Home now and safe 😊' 
Three dots pop up then swoop away. You frown as the same thing happens several times before a response appears. 
‘Was really worried. Thanks for finally answering. Been up all night.’ 
You’re stunned by the terse response. Yeah, you forgot to answer but he doesn’t need to worry that much. You frown and shift onto your side. 
‘Srry again. Tired. Talk in morning. Night.’ 
You turn your phone on silent and plug it back into the cord. You do feel bad but you’re too exhausted to let it keep you up. Besides, you need your sleep. You have lots of job hunting to do in the morning. Not to mention, your grandmother to face. 
🎮
You let Jacob cool down after your return home. Rather, he doesn’t text and you’re too distracted to do the same. As much as you’d like to sit around and game, your grandmother was as disappointed as you expected with your employment status, even when you gave her the money you had left in your emergency fund. 
After a week, you finally get a bite. It’s nothing special. There’s a seasonal ice cream shop in a booth shaped like a vanilla cone that needs a cashier on weeknights. It’s less than full time hours but it’s better than nothing. It will be strange working with high school juniors but you can’t afford to be picky. 
‘Game tonight?’ The text interrupts your first shift. You don’t have a chance to answer as a family approaches the window to order. 
You get them the soft serve and take their payment, bidding them a good evening with their vanilla points already drooping in the summer heat. You glance around at the mostly empty picnic tables. Soccer practice will end soon and you’ll be overloaded with eight-year-olds. 
‘Srry. New job. 1st shift. Maybe tmrw.’ 
‘New job? Congrats. Why didn’t you tell me?’ 
You sigh.  
‘Time got ahead of me.’ 
‘Same. Catch up tomorrow then. Minecraft?’ 
‘Sure. Tmrw.’ 
You slip your phone away. A mother and daughter approach and ask for a sundae and a banana split. As much as you love ice cream, working with it hasn’t tested your cravings very much. In fact, you might be falling out of love with it. The smell of vanilla and overly sweetened strawberries is kind of gross when it’s all you breathe. 
As you watch the happy customers walk away, you smile. Maybe it will be good to get some mining done. It will take your mind off of everything else. Hell, it might even make you feel like you’re doing something useful. 
🎮
“Shit, oh, sorry,” Jacob corrects himself. You always think it's kind of funny how he doesn’t like to swear. “My diamond armor.” 
“Oh no,” you utter, “where are you? I’ll grab your stuff.” 
He gives his coordinates and you turn around, leaping over the green blocks to make your way there. Despite your reticence at the beginning, you’re feeling better about the session. He wasn’t as tense as he seemed in his texts. 
“So, uh, did you think about the con?” Jacob asks. 
“The con? I almost forgot. When is it?” 
He gives the dates and you hum. Your chest flutters at the thought still. You’re not stupid. Meeting people IRL is not like online, no matter how many hours you’ve mined together. As much as you enjoy chatting with Jacob, you don’t know about meeting up. 
“I get it if you can’t get the time off but my offer still stands to cover the trip. If you wanna stay the night, I’ll even get an airBnB.” 
“Oh, wow, that’s a lot. I’m working now. I could put in,” you offer.  
“Is that a yes?” He asks hopefully. 
“I don’t know... I mean, I’ll have to look into it,” you say evasively. “Talk to my boss and grandma and all that.” 
“Right, right,” he tries to sound unbothered, “makes sense. Of course, no pressure. How about I send you the ticket either way? Haven’t got anyone else to bite.” 
“Oh, well, hold off, I wouldn’t want to take it and not use it,” you collect his weapons and armor from the ground in the game. 
It’s silent as you focus on getting every little thing. 
“Sorry, did I freak you out?” He asks, “I’m really not trying to pressure you, just got excited thinking about it.” 
“I know, Jacob, it’s not that, it’s just... a lot.” 
“Totally get it,” he intones, “let me know whenever you got an answer. Uh, where are you? I’m tryna find you.” 
“Just stay there, I'll come back to the house,” you assure him, happy to focus on the game instead. 
Still, you can’t entirely lose yourself in it. You’re sure he’s a nice guy. From pictures, he’s less than scary, and he’s never been anything but friendly. It’s not like the other dudes you meet online who jump to asking about your bra size and all that. It just isn’t smart. 
Well, maybe if you don’t show up alone. You know what con he’s talking about and Kara from Econ lives near there. You could probably convince her to meet up. Hm, that might work. 
Just like you told him, you’ll have to think about it. 
316 notes · View notes
ts1m1kas · 3 months
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Original Ask: hi! God bless! could you do a fic where's reader has been bullied in childhood/teenage years and one day she appears dating Jude and people are shocked and Jude's like, how could you be mean to her?? Ty 💗 (anonymous)
Word Count: 737 words
(author's note: keep sending requests in as they are still open, i hope you all enjoy this fic 🫶🏻 i kinda hate this, but oh well 🥲)
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To Jude, Y/N was the most beautiful girl he had ever met. He would proclaim his love for Y/N from the rooftops if he had it his way. However, Y/N’s own insecurities meant she asked Jude to keep their relationship private. He respected her wishes, keeping their love for each other behind closed doors.
Throughout her high school years, Y/N’s life had been made miserable by the individuals at her school. Insults, taunts, and jeers ruled her life, blossoming into deep-rooted self-hatred. These painful memories led to Y/N hiding that part of herself from not only Jude but also her friends she had met once she grew up.
There wasn’t a day that went by where Y/N didn’t feel unhappy with how she looked, or how she sounded, or how she laughed. And she didn’t mention it to Jude once. She didn’t want to trouble her boyfriend with her ‘silly’ insecurities.
Eventually, Jude began to question why Y/N didn’t want to make their relationship public. Did she not think he was good enough for her? After having Y/N refuse his invite to one of his matches yet again, he knew it was time to confront her.
Y/N stood at the kitchen counter, preparing the ingredients for her and Jude’s lunch. She hummed quietly to herself, which masked the sound of Jude walking down the hallway.
“Y/N?” Jude said, finally making his way into the kitchen.
“Yeah, you okay?” She questioned in response.
“Are you ashamed to be seen with me?”
Y/N laughed nervously, “What do you mean? What makes you say that?”
“Well you’ve insisted on keeping our relationship private for the past 2 years, so I must be doing something wrong.”
“No, Jude, you know I just like being private.”
Jude shook his head and sighed, “I just don’t believe you anymore. It feels like you’re embarrassed.”
Tears began to form in Y/N’s eyes. She knew it was silly to cry, and she knew she should just tell Jude why she was so persistent on staying out of the spotlight. But she simply couldn’t.
When Jude spotted the tears falling down Y/N’s face, he walked over to her and pulled her into his arms. He gently rubbed his hand along her back, soothing her as she sobbed into his chest. What started as silent tears had turned into violent sobs.
It didn’t take a genius to figure out that something much deeper was affecting Y/N, and it hurt Jude’s heart to see his girlfriend fall apart in his arms. He also felt guilty that he hadn’t spotted she was hurting before now.
He slowly guided her over to the sofa and sat her down. Y/N stayed curled into Jude’s chest, too ashamed to face him. After a while, she moved to sit up and wiped her face with her sleeve.
“Are you gonna tell me what’s going on?” Jude enquired, careful not to upset his girlfriend further.
Y/N took a deep breath, “I used to get bullied. A lot. I know it sounds dumb but it really affected me and still does to this day. I just feel like it's all gonna happen all over again if we go public. Especially since I'm not a perfect model with loads of Instagram followers.”
“Oh baby, why didn’t you just tell me? I would’ve understood you have nothing to worry about. I want nothing more than to show my beautiful girlfriend off. People are always going to have something to say, I just want the world to know you’re mine.”
“Are you sure?”
“I promise, if anyone has a problem I’ll block them, simple as that.”
Y/N enveloped her boyfriend in a tight hug, words of appreciation spilling from her mouth. Jude hugged her back, grateful to know what had been bothering her for so long.
“Does this mean I can post you?” Jude asked eagerly, smiling down at Y/N.
She nodded, “I’m sorry for keeping all this from you.”
“It’s fine, we all have things we want to keep secret.”
Y/N stood up and moved back over to the kitchen to finish the meal she had started. Jude pulled out his phone and selected a photo of the couple. 
He pulled up Instagram on his phone and posted the photo, paired with the caption;
‘My one and only.’
219 notes · View notes
ginnsbaker · 3 months
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fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (17/17)
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Part Summary: “I firmly believe that when you do the right thing, everything will eventually fall into place. It might not turn out exactly as you hoped, but you’ll find a sense of understanding and peace with your decision.”
Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader | Word count for this part: 7.600+ | Tags/Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of smut Author's note: Wow! Those five months went by so fast. Thank you so much for being with me on this journey. It's been my honor and pleasure sharing with you this story :)
Masterlist | Part I Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX | Part X | Part XI | Part XII | Part XIII | Part XIV I Part XV | Part XVI
-
“Tell me that your love is a sure thing” - Golden Vessel, Emerson Leif (“Hesitate”)
“Do you think I should ask Y/N to come with me?” Leigh asks, idly twisting a gold bauble between her fingers. She stares at it a beat too long, like she might find the answer in the curve of its shiny surface. 
It's three days before Christmas, and true to Shaw family tradition, they're just now getting around to setting up the decorations. It wouldn't have happened at all if Amy hadn't taken the initiative to remind them. She was supposed to help, but she's vanished again to meet another “friend.” Leigh and Jules are suspicious, thinking their mom might be seeing someone in secret.
Jules, teetering slightly on the ladder, twists around to give Leigh a raised eyebrow. “To the Harrison’s bash for New Year’s? Hell yeah, why not? She’s a blast. Could shake things up a bit.”
“No, not that,” Leigh exhales, now regretting even bringing it up. “I mean the comic book tour for Matt.”
Jules steps down, one rung at a time, until she’s down to Leigh’s level. “Oh. That’s…quite a step. But, why not? Sounds like an adventure for you both,” she says.
Logan zips by, a sheeny red bauble in his mouth, set on a mission to place it next to his bowl in the kitchen. He keeps fetching or chasing after the scattered Christmas balls, sending them rolling all over the house. Leigh and Jules have been running around, picking them up and putting them back on the tree.
“It’s not just that,” Leigh says, glancing out the window where the first hints of evening are brushing the sky. “Asking her to come means asking her to leave everything here behind. Her life, her responsibilities. It’s different for her—she has a real career.”
“Hold up—what we do is a real career too. We’re improving lives with healthy habits, remember?”
Leigh laughs sardonically. “Come on, Jules, we're kinda just floating, working for Mom. Y/N is a doctor, owns her clinic, has staff. That’s...”
“That’s a big deal,” Jules agrees with a solemn nod. “It’s a huge ask, for sure.”
Silence hangs for a beat, the only sounds being Logan’s light panting as he settles down, ornament forgotten. 
“Do you think she'd actually say no?” Jules suddenly pipes up, climbing back up the ladder to resume her decorating. Leigh spots a stray ornament a few feet away, points at it, and calls out, “Fetch!” 
Logan springs into action, scampering to retrieve it. As he returns, triumphant, Leigh gives him a pat on the head and passes the ornament up to Jules.
“Actually, it’s quite the opposite. She’d jump at the chance,” she tells Jules.
“So, what’s stopping you?”
“She might regret it later,” Leigh says quietly. “And that could mean losing her.”
Jules frowns, understanding the bind her sister is in. She stretches out a hand, and Leigh takes it, their palms pressing cold and warm together. “I’m sorry.”
“And if I leave her here, I might lose her anyway,” Leigh adds, the heaviness of two futures making her shoulders sag. 
Jules gives her hand a firm squeeze. “But what if you both end up regretting not taking the chance? It’s only a few months. Maybe Y/N can sort something out with her clinic?”
“It’s still too risky for her business. She’s poured everything into that place, Jules. Asking her to step away, even briefly—it’s…it’s selfish.”
“Life’s full of risky asks, Leigh. Sometimes, you gotta bet on what’s scary. Risk a little heartbreak on the chance it’ll bring you both something remarkable. Maybe this is one of those times?”
Leigh releases her hand and moves to another bare section of the tree. “Is that the kind of thinking that made you decide to look for your biological parents in Vietnam?”
Jules snaps the tinsel down, her response coming quick and a bit sharp. “Yes.”
Leigh winces slightly, realizing her question might have prodded an unintended sore spot. “I didn’t mean—”
“I get it,” Jules interjects, sighing as she tries to bring the conversation to a close. They’re both dealing with their own issues, and as much as she loves Leigh, she knows she’s not in the right headspace to offer solid advice—especially advice she’s not even sure works.
Leigh clamps her mouth shut. She doesn’t want this to turn into an argument either.
“Maybe just talk to her? See what she thinks? Who knows, maybe the biggest leaps make the most sense when you’re doing them for the right reasons... for the right person,” Jules says after some time. 
“You really think so?” Leigh asks, her voice threaded with hope.
“I do,” Jules nods, her hands busy rewrapping the tinsel Logan has graciously returned. “Just talk to her. It’s either a ‘what if’ or a ‘what now.’ Better to find out which.”
-
Leigh comes with her mouth open, but no sound escapes. Her body trembles as she experiences what she knows is the best orgasm she's ever had—though she remembers saying the same thing about this morning’s quickie in your bathroom. It just seems to keep getting better each time.
You slowly climb up from her pussy, trailing soft kisses along her stomach. As you move upward, you let your tongue lightly trace a stripe across one of her nipples, eliciting a shiver from Leigh. She’s still catching her breath, but when you finally reach her lips, she pulls you in for a deep, consuming kiss. The way her tongue wrestles with yours tells you she’s already eager for more, her hands tangling in your hair as she holds you close.
You break the kiss, smiling down at her. “Hi,” you murmur, almost shyly.
Leigh, still a little dazed, brushes the strands of hair off your forehead and gently traces your lower lip with her thumb. “You know something?” she asks, her eyes wandering over the marks and lines on your face.
“Hm?” 
She kisses the corner of your mouth. “You're kind of amazing,” she says softly.
“That good, huh?” you tease, a playful smile tugging at your lips.
Her hand, which has been cupping your face, slides down your neck before she pulls it back to herself, biting at her index fingernail.
“I’m sure you can tell,” she whispers, her voice low and sultry. To emphasize her point, she arches her hips, the slickness between her thighs evident against your skin.
“You’re going to have to give me a minute,” you sigh, letting your head fall to her sweaty chest. “You’ve completely worn me out.”
Leigh laughs, a soft, melodic sound. “Really? Getting tired already? What happened to your stamina?”
You don’t bother to retort, content just to lie there listening to the rhythm of her heart. “It’s hard work keeping you satisfied,” you say after some time, your voice muffled against her skin.
She tightens her hold around you, the gentle stroke of her fingers in your hair making every thought slow down. The security of her embrace makes everything seem right in the world, and it emboldens you to voice a thought that's been on your mind more and more lately.
“You know,” you start, lifting your head to catch her eyes, “I was thinking… maybe you should move in with me.”
Leigh stiffens just a bit, her eyes darting away for a moment, and you instantly regret how fast you’ve blurted it out. You sit up, trying to backpedal, “Only if you want to, I mean... it was just a thought. You're here most nights anyway, and your toothbrush is already—”
Before you can ramble on, Leigh leans in and silences you with a gentle kiss. “Slow down,” she whispers against your lips, her smile reassuring.
You chuckle, giving her a sheepish, lopsided smile. “Right, right,” you agree, settling back down beside her. 
Leigh shifts to lie on her side, propping herself up on one elbow. Her eyes, still dark with want, sweep over your body—flushed, soft, and still quivering slightly from your efforts to pleasure her. She catches herself, though, and with a more composed motion, she pulls the blanket up to cover you, tucking it around your chest.
You look up at her, your expression ironically innocent, waiting for her to say what's on her mind.
“I’d love to,” Leigh finally says. “But do you really think it’s the right move?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, we’ve just started exploring what this is, what we could be, and I’m already planning to leave. It feels like I’m setting us up for...” Leigh doesn’t finish the sentence, but she doesn’t have to.
Matt's book tour looms over both of you, an ever-present shadow no matter how tightly you try to cling to each other. It's as if you believe that by melding into one with Leigh, you could somehow will her impending departure into nonexistence.
Though before you can say anything, your phone rings from the coffee table beside you. You reach over and grab it, your mom's name flashing urgently on the screen. A quick glance at the time sends a jolt through you—you were to pick her up at the airport but completely lost track of time.
Leigh sits up too, clutching the sheet to her naked torso. “What is it?”
You wince, the irony of the situation not lost on you. “It's my mom,” you explain hurriedly. “I should have left, like, half an hour ago to pick her up at the airport. She’s staying with me for a few days until right before New Year’s.” 
A moment ago, you were discussing moving in together, and now you find yourself needing to ask her to leave. 
Leigh raises an eyebrow, smiling coyly as she realizes the implications of your mother’s arrival. “And let me guess, she's staying here? In your one-bedroom palace?”
“Yeah,” you say, scrambling to get dressed. “Which means I need to air out the place, change the sheets... make it look like I live like a monk.” You stop for a second, looking at Leigh with an apologetic frown on your face. “And I kind of need to ask you to leave now. Please don’t be mad.”
“Mad?” Leigh laughs as she swings her legs out of bed and starts gathering her clothes. Once she's collected them all, she steps closer, gives you a quick kiss, and murmurs right next to your ear, “I’m furious.”
You kiss her hair gently before stepping in front of the mirror to check your appearance, making sure you don't look as disheveled as you feel.
“Gives us both some time to think about everything. The tour, us moving in, all of it,” Leigh says, slipping into her jeans.
“Absolutely,” you agree, watching her.
“Change those sheets well, huh?” she teases, zipping up her bag. “You know how moms can be.”
You grimace jokingly at her comment. “Please, don't ever use 'sheets' and 'mom' in the same sentence ever again.”
Leigh laughs again, clearly enjoying you squirm. She slings her bag over her shoulder, waiting for you to finish getting ready.
As you cap your lip gloss, an idea suddenly strikes you. Seeing Leigh's expectant look reflected in the mirror, you ask, “Hey, how about you join me to pick her up at the airport?”
Meeting your mom seems like another huge step in your relationship, but she doesn't hesitate.
“Is it okay with your mom?” she asks, a bit wary.
You shrug, taking her hand confidently. “Why wouldn't it be?”
-
Apparently, you’re the spitting image of your mother.
At least, that’s how Leigh sees it as she watches you both hug it out in the arrival section of LAX. As a fitness pundit, Leigh immediately notices your mom's excellent posture, despite her petite frame. It's the first thing she observes in anyone, and your mom is no exception. Beyond that, you both share the same quick smile and the way your eyes light up in laughter—deep brown, the color of rich coffee, which Leigh finds particularly striking. Even the gestures are mirrored; the way you both tuck hair behind your ear when nervous, or the confidence in your strides.
What distinctly sets her apart from you, though, is how intimidating your mom appears to be.
As you walk to the parking lot, holding your mom’s hand in one of yours and Leigh’s in the other, your mom chats animatedly about a hot spring resort she discovered near your hometown. Leigh keeps half a step behind, doing her best to stay engaged while keeping up with your pace.
“So, how was your flight?” Leigh asks, finding a moment to wedge herself into the conversation.
Your mom barely glances back, responding briefly before turning her attention back to you. “Long, but it’s always nice to spend Christmas with my daughter,” she says, squeezing your hand affectionately.
Leigh tries again. “It's pretty nice weather here, isn't it? I bet it's a lot colder on the East Coast right now.”
“Oh, it’s freezing out there, Leigh,” you chime in, completely oblivious to the awkward interaction between your mom and your girlfriend. 
Your mom nods but doesn't elaborate, her focus still on you. “We should stop by that bakery you always gush about,” she says, eyes bright with excitement.
Leigh's grip on your hand tightens slightly, and she lags further behind. “Oh, that store closes at five. It’s seven already,” you say. 
Desperate to connect, Leigh tries for the final time. “There are special light installations in the park for the holidays. Would you like to go see them?”
Your mom finally looks back, but her smile is thin. “I’m not much into these ‘light installations’. Too much walking.” She quickly shifts back to you. “How’s work been?”
“Work’s been busy, but manageable,” you say, glancing back at Leigh, who offers a small, strained smile.
The three of you continue to the parking lot, the conversation feeling increasingly one-sided. As you reach the car, you open the trunk and help with the bags, all the while trying to think of a way to include Leigh more naturally.
“Leigh and I were thinking of checking out that new restaurant downtown,” you say, making an effort to draw your mom's attention to her.
“Sounds nice,” your mom replies. “But actually, I'm not hungry—just a bit tired.”
Leigh’s expression falls just a bit, but she quickly masks it, helping with the last of the luggage. She figures that’s her cue to leave. 
You can’t hide your frustration. Your plan was to have a nice dinner, a proper introduction. “Are you sure, Mom? It doesn’t have to be a long meal,” you push back gently.
“Let’s just get your mom home, she’s had a long day,” Leigh tells you softly.
You glance at your mom, silently pleading for her to reconsider, but she only smiles. “Maybe another time, dear.”
Reluctantly, you agree.
-
You lead your mom into the living room, urging her to make herself comfortable while you hurry to get the bedroom ready. The sheets need changing, the windows thrown open to freshen the air, and the whole space needs a bit of tidying. 
“I’ll be right back,” you mumble, disappearing into the bedroom.
In the bedroom, you work quickly, stripping the used sheets and flinging the windows wide. You hustle, smoothing on fresh sheets, fluffing pillows, and straightening up—getting rid of all the evidence of what you and Leigh had been doing all week. 
Meanwhile, your mom isn't one to just sit around. She takes in the scattered magazines, the couch cushions askew, and the dishes piled up in the kitchen. With a small sigh, she gets up and starts putting things in order. She straightens up the living room and moves on to tackle the kitchen. Before long, the sound of running water and clinking dishes fills your tiny apartment.
When she’s done setting things in order, she starts rummaging through your fridge and pantry. With only a few ingredients at hand, she decides to make do with what you have. Soon, she's boiling spaghetti and slicing hotdogs to toss into the mix. This dish was a childhood favorite of yours and remains a go-to comfort food. As soon as the familiar aroma wafts through the air, you find yourself irresistibly drawn toward the kitchen.
“Is that...?” you start, a delighted smile spreading across your face at the sight of the generous layer of shredded cheese melting over the thick red sauce.
“Sit down and eat while it's hot,” your mom commands with a warm smile.
You don’t need to be told twice.  Fork in hand, you dive into the spaghetti as though you haven't eaten in days. Considering your usual diet of takeout and quick fixes, that's not too far from the truth. You chat about small, inconsequential things—the new coffee shop you tried last week, the remarkable cases you’ve encountered in the clinic this month, the shows you’ve been watching on Netflix. 
Finishing your meal, you lean back with a satisfied sigh, feeling truly content for the first time in a long while.
“Mom?”
“Yes, dear?”
“So... what do you think of Leigh?”
“So that’s Leigh, huh?” Your mom pauses, setting down her cup of tea with deliberate care. “The widow of the guy you unknowingly dated for a while, not realizing he was married?”
“Yeah, that’s her,” you confirm, nodding slowly as your nerves start to build. The last time you brought up Leigh to your mom, you were almost ready to throw in the towel until she urged you to give it another shot. Now, more than anything, you're hoping she'll give her approval.
She nods thoughtfully, then with a sly grin, says, “Well, she's definitely out of your league.”
“Mom!” you exclaim, embarrassed.
She chuckles, clearly pleased with her little joke.
“Come on, be serious,” you plead.
Your mom clasps her hands on the table, and gives you that look—the one that means business. You can't help but roll your eyes at her theatrics, clearly aimed at getting a rise out of you.
“Leigh seems lovely,” she says. You can tell she’s sincere and that makes you sigh in relief. “And I really appreciate how she tried to engage with me earlier.”
You relax slightly, but then, as you replay the earlier interactions in your mind, you realize Leigh seemed frustrated and your mom wasn’t as welcoming as she usually is. Your face scrunches up as this sinks in.
“Wait, you were really standoffish to Leigh earlier!”
She holds up her hands in a half-shrug, her smirk fading into a more thoughtful expression. “Oh, honey, I didn’t mean to come off that way at all,” she says. “I guess I was just being overprotective. You know, considering how everything started between you two.”
You appreciate her motherly instincts but wish she'd given Leigh a fairer chance from the start. “I get it, Mom. But Leigh is really important to me now. It would mean a lot if you could try to get to know her better. For me?”
“Of course, sweetie,” she says. “What do you need?”
“Well, for starters…” you start, pausing as you try to find the right way to explain. You're about to share that you'll be spending Christmas dinner with the Shaws this year. It's always been just the two of you for the holidays, so you're not sure how she'll take the news of including others she hardly knows. “You’ll have an opportunity to bond with her the day after tomorrow.”
“What’s on Tuesday?”
“Christmas Eve dinner,” you reply. “At the Shaws.”
“Dinner at your girlfriend’s?” she clarifies.
You nod, your lip catching between your teeth. It still feels a little surreal—exciting, actually—being able to call Leigh your girlfriend. “Yeah, Mom. I thought it’d be nice for us to join them this year.”
Instead of giving an outright yes, she asks, “What should I bring? I want to make a good impression.”
You stand up and walk around the table to give her a hug. She wraps her arms around you and plants a kiss on your forehead. “Thank you,” you mutter into her shoulder. “Maybe bring your blueberry pie? Everyone loves that.”
“You love it,” she says cheerily. “Consider it done.”
Slipping back into old habits, you start clearing the dinner dishes, just like you used to when you lived with her. As you stack dishes and run water in the sink, your mom begins unpacking her bags in your bedroom. As you scrub the dishes, thoughts of following Leigh and leaving everything here behind start to overwhelm you. Once the kitchen is spotless and the last dish is put away, you realize you can't keep these feelings bottled up any longer. 
You call out to your mother as you dry your hands on a kitchen towel. A few seconds later, she reappears in the living room, her face expectant.
“Hey, uhm,” you say, not knowing how to start. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.”
“Go on,” she urges gently.
You take a deep breath before continuing, “Matt’s comic book is getting published posthumously. The publishing company wants Leigh to join a tour to promote the book, and I'm… I’m thinking of joining her.”
Your mom's expression becomes inscrutable as she processes the information. She walks to the couch and takes a seat. After a long pause, she asks, “What will happen to your clinic here?” 
You look down, fidgeting with the towel in your hands, and then meet her gaze. “I’ve thought about that,” you say. “I’d need to find someone to cover for me. It wouldn’t be easy, but... I feel like I need to be there for Leigh. This is important to her, and… she’s everything to me.”
You try to read her reaction, but every line on her face remains perfectly still and composed. “Is it because you want to be there for her,” she says slowly, “or because you're afraid that if she leaves, you might lose her?”
Your eyes drop to the floor, and that's answer enough for your mother.
“Come here,” she says, patting the empty spot on the couch next to her. Wordlessly, you oblige.
“It's okay to be scared,” she whispers. “Loving someone means taking risks. Just remember, you need to be true to yourself as well. Leigh is important, but so are you.”
“I just don’t want to regret not giving my all to see this through with her,” you say.
“You love her,” she states, not as a question, but as a fact.
“I really do,” you say quietly.
“I firmly believe that when you do the right thing, everything will eventually fall into place. It might not turn out exactly as you hoped, but you’ll find a sense of understanding and peace with your decision.”
-
Your mom's words stay with you throughout the night. As you lie in bed, you can hear her soft breathing, her back turned to you.
You’ll find a sense of understanding and peace with your decision.
Your phone vibrates gently beneath your pillow, and you smile when you see a message from Leigh.
Leigh [10:45 PM]: Can’t sleep. I miss you.
You [10:45 PM]: Miss you too.
She doesn't reply, but she fills your head well into the night. The future is uncertain, but one thing feels right: going with Leigh on her tour is the decision that brings you peace.
-
Christmas Eve dinner arrives sooner than you expected.
Pulling up to the Shaws' house, you're amazed by the decorations that the siblings have tirelessly worked on for the past two days. The house is transformed into a festive wonderland, with twinkling lights draped over every surface, garlands of holly framing the windows, and a towering Christmas tree visible through the living room window, adorned with shimmering ornaments and tinsel.
You watch your mom's reaction as you both step out of the car, seeing the lights reflected in her awe-filled eyes. You beam at her, proud of your girlfriend's decorating skills and holiday spirit.
You and your mom walk up to the doorstep. She clutches her much-loved blueberry pie, which you’re looking forward to having a hearty slice of tonight, while you carefully hold Leigh's gift—a Lego typewriter modeled after a vintage 1950s design. You feel a twinge of nervousness about how she’ll receive your gift.
Moments later, the door swings open to reveal Leigh, all dressed up, and for a moment, you're speechless. Leigh has always been beautiful. No matter what she wears—be it casual joggers, sleek dresses, or even just her underwear—she never fails to leave an impression. Tonight is no different; she takes your breath away all over again.
“Merry Christmas!” Leigh greets brightly. “Almost, anyway,” she adds with a nervous laugh.
“Your decorations are incredible,” your mom says, smiling at her.
“Oh, thank you!” Leigh replies, her cheeks flushing at the unexpected compliment. 
“Where should I put this?” your mom asks, holding up her pie.
“You didn’t have to, but wow, that looks amazing! Come on in, I'll show you,” Leigh says, stepping aside to let you both in. She leads you to the kitchen, where the smells of holiday cooking are even stronger. “You can set it right here,” she points to a spot on the counter already laden with various dishes and desserts.
Just as your mom sets the pie on the counter, Amy walks in. Leigh introduces her mom, and the two women share friendly greetings before Amy’s attention quickly turns to the blueberry pie. They dive into a lively discussion about cooking, swapping recipes as if they’ve known each other for years.
Leigh turns to you, her eyes shining. “I'm so glad you’re here now,” she says softly, her fingers lightly brushing against yours. Craving more contact, you gently grasp her hand and guide her to the backyard where Logan is nonchalantly marking a geranium. With no one around now, you draw Leigh close and kiss her deeply. Leigh responds just as fervently, her hand coming to rest on your waist and then squeezing, making you moan into her mouth. She takes advantage of the moment, slipping her tongue in. Her other hand finds its way to your neck, pulling you even closer. You can feel her heartbeat against your chest, matching the rhythm of your own.
When you finally pull back, breathless, you rest your forehead against hers. Leigh's eyes are half-lidded, her lips slightly swollen, tempting you to lean in once more. Just as you're about to, she finally takes notice of the enormous box under your arm.
“Is that for me?”
“Yes,” you say, handing it to her. “I hope you like it.”
Leigh's eyes widen as she takes her gift, her excitement further lighting up her soulful green eyes.
“I've got something for you too,” she says, giving the box a little shake. “It's upstairs in my bedroom. Want to get it now?”
You shake your head, matching her giddy smile. “Maybe later. If you take me to your bedroom now, I can't promise we'll be back in time for dinner,” you say.
Leigh chuckles. Honestly, she feels the same way. “Well then, can I open this now?” she asks.
“Absolutely! Go ahead. I really hope you like it.”
Leigh quickly starts unwrapping your gift, her fingers deftly tearing through the wrapping paper. As the paper falls away, her eyes widen in pleasant surprise at the sight of the Lego typewriter.
“Oh my gosh, it's perfect! Thank you so much!” She carefully places it on the ground before wrapping you in a tight embrace.
“You're welcome,” you whisper, circling your arms around her waist and pulling her close.
When she pulls back, her eyes are brimming with happiness and something deeper—pure, unfiltered love. She stares at you, her gaze soft and intense, as if she's seeing you for the first time.
“I can't believe you remembered,” she says, referring to a conversation you had weeks prior. “This means so much to me.”
You smile, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I just wanted to make you happy.”
Something in your words strikes a chord within her. Without thinking, she blurts out, “Come with me to Matt's comic book tour.”
Her eyes widen slightly as she realizes what she's just said. But she doesn't take it back; instead, she buries her face in your neck, breathing in your scent. With each breath, she finds the idea of being apart from you increasingly unbearable.
“I want you to be there with me,” she continues with more conviction. “I can't imagine doing this without you.”
She pulls back slightly, needing to see your reaction. In your eyes, she finds the same depth of love she feels for you, mirrored back at her.
“As you wish,” you whisper, leaning in to seal your promise with a kiss.
-
Dinner is a success, largely due to Amy's and your mom's excellent cooking skills. The pasta prepared by Leigh and Jules wasn't a total disaster, but it had its mishaps. After the first batch turned too soggy—practically mush—Jules had to dash out in the middle of dinner to buy another pack of pasta.
Leigh’s father made a brief appearance with his new family, stirring a bit of awkwardness between the exes. Luckily, your mother defused the tension by suggesting a family game. It wasn’t long before laughter filled the room, with Jules energetically shouting clues at those struggling to guess the words on their foreheads.
In the middle of the game, Leigh volunteers to do the dishes. You offer to help, but Jules quickly drags you out of your seat to be the next one to guess the word. While you’re preoccupied, your mom quietly slips out of the living room and follows Leigh into the kitchen.
Leigh is surprised to see your mom. “I've got this,” she assures her with a polite smile. Despite your mom having considerably warmed up to her, Leigh still feels a bit anxious in her presence.
Your mom simply picks up some dinnerware that has already been washed and starts wiping them dry with a towel. “Do you know why Y/N became a veterinarian?” she asks casually.
Leigh smiles, recalling your story about Max, the first animal you ever helped. “Yes, she told me about rescuing a pup. It was really touching,” she says, her eyes softening at the memory.
Your mom observes Leigh, who has already returned to busily washing the dishes. “That’s right. But there’s more to it,” she says.
Leigh stops what she’s doing and tilts her head. “What do you mean by that?” she asks.
“Y/N did get into veterinary school,” your mom begins, placing a dry plate on the stack. “But she dropped out after the first semester. She had this deep-seated dream of traveling the world.”
Leigh listens attentively, wiping her hands on a dishcloth.
“Her father and older brother are both veterinarians, running a small clinic in our town. Naturally, they encouraged her to follow the same path,” your mom continues, “and while she loved animals, she also wanted to explore every corner of the world ever since she was a kid.”
Leigh's hands pause in the sudsy water as she absorbs every word.
“Her father gave her his blessing, and off she went. She traveled the world for two years.”
“What brought her back?” Leigh asks.
Your mom takes a deep breath, her knuckles whitening as she grips the towel more tightly. “H-Her father and brother were killed in a car accident,” she says, each word seeming to be painfully forced out of her.
Leigh's hand flies to her mouth in horror. “Oh no, I... I didn’t know,” she stammers, feeling a rush of guilt and confusion. Why hadn’t this crucial detail come up before?
“It was a terrible time,” your mom says quietly, “but it brought her back home.”
Leigh is silent, guilt gnawing at her for not knowing such a significant detail of your life. She’s been so caught up in sharing her own thoughts and plans, and you’ve always been the listener, never pressing her to ask about your past. She realizes now how little she’s asked about your family.
Leigh abandons her chore altogether. “W-What happened then?”
“After the accident, without their expertise, we couldn't keep the clinic running,” your mom replies, her voice steadier now but still tinged with sadness. “We had to put it up for sale. It was devastating to lose what they had worked so hard for.
“For a long time, Y/N was depressed. She blamed herself for not being there in the last two years, for putting her own interests first. And with the clinic gone, she felt like she had failed to preserve their legacy.”
Leigh is at a loss for words, her eyes growing bleary. “I’m—” 
“Being a housewife all those years, I suddenly found myself needing to help put food on the table so Y/N could go back to school,” your mom explains. “For a year, she was just a shell of herself, hardly the vibrant person you know now.”
Needing a moment to process all these revelations, Leigh moves to the dining table and sits down. Her legs feel weak at the thought of you being so heartbroken. She knows grief all too well. Losing one person she loved nearly destroyed her; she can't imagine losing two at once.
“Y/N is the most… beautiful, wonderful and well-adjusted person I know,” Leigh says after a while. “I wouldn't have guessed she went through all that.”
“My daughter is a miracle,” your mom states with a soft smile.
“Thank you for telling me all this,” Leigh says sincerely.  “It means a lot to understand what she’s been through.”
Your mom nods and says, “I'm not telling you this just because you're her girlfriend. I'm telling you because I know she’s planning to follow you and leave her practice here in LA behind.”
Leigh's breath hitches as she takes it all in. Learning about your father and brother, she realizes she nearly forgot what she asked of you just hours ago. It's not just a job or a business you're leaving behind—it's a dream that keeps their memory alive, a part of you where they still live on.
“Please, don't ask her to leave everything behind,” your mom says, her voice almost pleading. “Just promise her that you'll come back for her.”
It’s not an easy promise to make—or keep. The mere uncertainty of what lies ahead holds her back. She can't stand the idea of breaking a promise to you or betraying your trust in any way.
Leigh's silence stretches on, and your mom speaks again. “If you can't promise to come back for her, just end it. Don't let it drag on. She's tougher than she knows. It'll hurt, but she won't be alone—I'll be there, and so will her friends and coworkers.”
Leigh balks at her. “I don't want to rush into a decision.”
But your mom isn't listening. Her concern cuts through her caution, compelling her to share more. “After we lost half our family, she was never the same. She’d sacrifice everything for someone she loves, always skeptical of a second chance. She loves like there's no tomorrow.”
It’s the one thing your mother said tonight that rings truest about you. You do love as if it's the last thing you'll ever do.
Before Leigh can respond, Amy walks in, sensing the tension immediately. “Is everything alright?” she asks, her eyes darting between Leigh and your mom.
Leigh suddenly realizes she's been crying, and so has your mom. Your mother excuses herself to the bathroom, leaving Amy looking concerned and bewildered.
“What was that about?” Amy asks.
Leigh, shaken and overwhelmed, struggles to speak. “I-I need to get the gifts for everyone. They're upstairs,” she stammers, then quickly heads to the bedroom, needing to escape and collect herself.
Amy watches Leigh leave, then reaches for the blueberry pie, trying not to read too much into the haunted look in her daughter’s eyes.
-
It’s a cold January evening when Leigh finally gathers the courage to talk to you. Your mother flew back to Maine three days after Boxing Day, and the rest of the holidays passed by in pure bliss. The two of you are curled up on the couch, a blanket draped over your legs, the remnants of dinner still on the coffee table. She’s been avoiding this conversation, clinging to the hope that something might change. But the more she thinks about the family you lost when you were younger, the more convinced she becomes that your mother was right.
“Can we talk?” Leigh’s voice is soft, almost drowned out by the movie playing in the background.
You mute the TV and turn to her, a look of concern immediately crossing your face. “Of course. What’s on your mind?”
“I’ve been thinking a lot about us, about our future,” Leigh says slowly.
It doesn’t immediately ring any alarm bells in your head, but your heart starts to race. “Okay…” you murmur. You can't help but notice her hands twisting nervously in her lap. You reach out to steady them, and as she looks up, her resolve breaks.
“I love you. You mean the world to me, but…I don’t know if it’s right for you to come with me.”
You frown, eyebrows stitched together in confusion and denial. “Leigh, what are you talking about?”
She looks away, her hands slipping from your grasp as she inches further into her corner of the couch. “I can’t be the reason you give up everything you’ve worked so hard for,” she says.
“I’m not,” you reassure her, trying to keep calm. “It’s just for a little while, right? Less than six months on tour. And it's not like we'll be non-stop; the schedule allows breaks. We can come back home in between. We’ve discussed this, remember? We have a plan in place.”
Leigh grows quiet, her gaze fixed on a spot on the floor. She takes a long breath through her nose, as if preparing herself for something even harder to say. “That's the thing,” she whispers. “I might not come back.”
Everything around you stills.
“What do you mean, you might not come back?”
Leigh’s eyes remained glued to the floor. “For the longest time, I’ve thought about leaving. Now that Jules is embarking on her own trip to Vietnam, and Mom is planning a long vacation in Europe, it feels like the best time to explore what's out there.”
“Leigh, we've been planning this together. It's just a tour. We'll be back,” you reiterate in frustration, starting to grasp at straws.
She merely shakes her head. “Everything about this place reminds me of Matt—both the good and the bad memories. Maybe I—”
“Great. The Matt card again,” you snap.
Leigh bristles at your comment. She stands abruptly and begins to pace. Seething. “Card?” she retorts sharply. “This is my life, my pain—”
“And you’ve just been running away from it all!” you counter, standing up too. “Running away from me!”
“Didn't you?” she fires back, her voice breaking. 
“What—”
“Didn't you do the same thing when you lost your—” Leigh can't finish the sentence. It hurts too much to even say it.
You take a step back, shocked. “How did you—”
“Your mom told me.”
The room certainly feels like it's closing in. Unable to stand any longer, your legs give out, and you collapse onto the couch, burying your face in your hands and massaging your temples. Leigh watches you for a moment, then sits beside you. She reaches out tentatively but pulls back, unsure of what to say or do.
Your hands fall away from your face, and you turn to her, your eyes filled with pain and betrayal. “You learned about me losing my dad and my brother, and your response is to... leave me as well?”
Leigh's eyes fill with tears again, and she looks away, unable to hold your gaze. “It’s not like that,” she whispers, her voice trembling.
“What if I promise that the clinic will be okay? Foreman can manage things while I’m away, I trust him,” you suggest, your voice wavering as the reality of the situation starts to consume you.
Leigh shakes her head, dabbing at her eyes with the back of her hand. “I can't,” she murmurs. “I can’t feel good about myself knowing I'm pulling you away from something important to you.”
“But you're what's important to me, Leigh,” you argue weakly.
“That’s not how it works, Y/N,” Leigh says, trying to fight more tears threatening to spill over. “It’s too imbalanced. We don’t need a relationship where one of us is sacrificing too much. That’s not healthy for either of us.”
You sit in stunned silence, her words sinking in. You've always been willing to sacrifice for the people you love, but now you see how it could be a burden for Leigh. 
You swallow hard, trying to compose yourself, the words sticking in your throat. “And you think the best for us is to be apart?”
She nods reluctantly. “I think the best for you is to not have to choose between your love and your life's work. I can't ask you to put anything on hold, not for me.”
“But I choose you, Leigh,” you say, tears now streaming down your face. “Doesn't that count for something?”
Leigh can’t help herself any longer. She moves closer, needing to comfort you despite being the source of your pain.
“It does,” she whispers, gently wiping away your tears with her thumb. “It counts for everything. But I need to know that you're not losing yourself to be with me. I can't live with that.”
With that, she pulls you close. You hold each other tightly, falling asleep on the narrow sofa, clinging to each other as if letting go would mean losing everything.
But by the time the sun has risen high in the sky, Leigh is already gone.
-
There are days when you feel bitter about Leigh deciding to break up with you, especially with weeks still left before the tour begins. You oscillate between anger at her decision and a reluctant acceptance that it might have been the right choice for both of you. More often than not, the anger prevails, leading you to drink yourself to sleep, only to wake up the next day to discover that nothing has changed.
Leigh is still leaving.
-
To your surprise, Amy willingly provides you with Leigh's flight itinerary out of Los Angeles. In the days leading up to her departure, you find yourself constantly formulating and discarding plans. Will you show up at the airport and whisk her away? Convince her to change her mind? Perhaps even show up with your own suitcase, ready to join her if you can persuade her at the last minute that she’s making a huge mistake?
Ultimately, none of your scenarios play out. However, you do find yourself at the airport, arriving ten minutes before her boarding gate closes. There, you spot Leigh standing in the lobby with a small suitcase. In that instant, you feel like you’ve accepted—for real this time—her decision to do this on her own.
You watch from the shadows as her gaze darts around as if searching for someone. Your heart swells with a mix of hope and sorrow, realizing she might be looking for you. You stay hidden, watching as she pulls out her phone and dials a number. Your phone vibrates in your back pocket. With your eyes still on her, you answer it.
“Hey, it's me,” Leigh starts awkwardly, as if implying that you might not remember how she sounds. You haven’t spoken to each other in weeks.
“I know it's you,” you reply softly.
“I'm about to board,” she says, and you can hear the reluctance in her voice.
“I see,” you say, struggling to contain the emotions that might slip through the cracks of your nonchalance. “Did you pack some food for the flight?”
She laughs, a tearful sound that squeezes your heart. “Yes, I picked up some donuts.”
“Sounds unhealthy, Ms. Shaw. Try to order some broccoli in-flight,” you tease her lightly.
“I hate broccoli,” she deadpans, her voice layered with a stubbornness you know well.
Then, she asks the harder questions, “Where are you? What are you doing?”
You mull it over, caught between honesty and the need to protect her decision. “I'm just hanging out in the clinic,” you lie, unwilling to reveal that you are there, watching her last moments before departure. “Will you call me when you land?”
She sounds like she wants to protest, but you cut in, “I need to know you're safe. It would really help me to know you're okay out there.”
After a few seconds, she agrees softly, “Okay, I'll call.”
“I’ll wait,” you say. “However long it takes,” you add, leaving the meaning of those words open for her to interpret.
They announce final boarding.
“Listen, I—I have to go,” Leigh says quickly. “Please, take care. Goodbye, Y/N.”
“Goodbye, Leigh,” you manage to say, your voice catching as you watch her walk away.
You end the call and pocket your phone. Watching her wipe away a tear and head towards her gate is almost too much to bear. You allow yourself a moment, a small smile playing on your lips, proud of her courage and saddened by her departure. You’ll be waiting for her call, but if it never comes, you'll understand. These moments don't erase the past several months you've spent getting to know Leigh.
And you wouldn’t trade them for the world.
-
At exactly ten in the evening, Leigh calls you from Boston.
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runningfrom2am · 9 months
Text
cold nights // part four
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summary: all the stars aligned, and it was you.
pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader
wc: 2.9k
masterlists / nav / requests
tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, r is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.
a/n: this is your reminder to reblog and comment on fics you like!! it helps us writers out a TON the girlies who get it get it. thanks!!
series masterlist // playlist
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"I just have to ask you a few questions... is that okay?" Coriolanus asks, sitting across from you at the small table you find yourself chained to.
"Please." You nod, grinning at him. You were so tired, the bags under your eyes were evidence enough of that. Screw getting you food- Coryo is worried if you don't sleep you'll be all but useless in the games, even if all he needs you to do is run and hide.
"It's just so people can get to know you a bit better. Okay, so..." He looks down at the sheet in front of him, tapping the pencil against the table as he tries to focus on reading. "First, nice and easy, what is your full name?"
"Y/N M/N L/N."
"Great... Okay, and where are you from?"
"District Twelve, born and raised."
"How old are you?"
"Seventeen. I'll be eighteen next week." You smile.
"Oh, really?" He asks, pausing mid-sentence as he starts writing it down.
"Yeah." You smile. "Hopefully I'll live to see the day."
"You will." He tries to be reassuring as he scribbles the finished answer on his sheet. God, you got unlucky. Not that his eighteenth was a big celebration like some of his classmates, but Tigris made him a cake with ingredients she'd been saving up for and she refit his school uniform for him. You wouldn't even have that- you would be spending the day fighting for your life, if you even made it that long.
"And who is in your family unit?" He reads directly from the slip as he forces himself to move on.
"Well, there's me, my brother, he's fifteen, and then my ma and pa." You nod. "Well, my pa isn't home much. Lots of work in the mines; usually has sixteen-hour days. I hardly ever see him." You admit, sadness laced into your tone. "Saw him, I mean."
"My father died in Twelve." Coryo says, catching you off guard. He doesn't even fully understand why he felt the need to tell you this. "About ten years ago, it was rebels."
"I remember that." You reply quietly, recalling the lockdown placed on the District after the murder of a peacekeeper general. "He was the general. Crassus Snow, I assume?"
"Yes."
Everyone was forced into their homes at gunpoint, and in search of the responsible parties everyone you knew had their home destroyed by peacekeepers. Yourself included. Your bed was torn apart, and your mattress shredded for any hidden weapons or plans. Since then, you have shared a bed with your brother. A new mattress was hard to make, and your ma never got the free time or materials again.
Up until this week, that was the scariest day of your life. Just before the peacekeepers kicked in your door, your mother had grabbed the two of you and shoved you into an opening under the floorboards- a crawlspace made from a faulty foundation. You were in there for what felt like hours, listening to shouting and your home being ruined as you held onto each other with a hand pressed over your brother's mouth to keep him from crying too loud. Your mother's cries that day never seemed to end.
"It's a small world." You say after a solid few moments of silence, and Coryo can see it in the way you're staring at his paper that you're not reading it. You're zoned out completely. "I'm sorry that happened to you. It must have been scary."
"The war was hard on all of us." He responds. "What... what do you remember?" He had never heard anything about it besides the bare bones of what happened, he had never considered that the people of Twelve would remember it as well. And judging by the look on your face, it wasn't a good memory.
"I was about six, maybe seven, and I was playing with my brother, and I didn't hear anything but my ma must have because she grabbed us and hid us under the floorboards so fast I could have got whiplash. Peacekeepers came into our home, tore the whole thing to shreds, hurt my ma, then took off. Onto the next house. I didn't find out until a while later that rebels killed the peacekeeper general, they were looking for any evidence of conspiracy, I guess. The people who did it."
"Sounds like it was scarier for you than for me."
"But I want you to know," You speak so quickly you almost cut him off. "My parents had nothing to do with it. My pa is an honest, good man. All he ever wanted was to keep us safe. We're not rebels, I promise you that."
Coriolanus almost wishes you were, so he wouldn't be so hurt by what his people were putting you through. "I know. I wouldn't blame you for that."
"Thank you." You whisper, picking at your nails now as you look down at your shaky hands.
Coryo clears his throat, forcing himself to look away from you. "Uh..." He chuckles at the next question, making you look up at him again. "Are you married?"
"No." You reply, having almost completely forgotten about the worksheet in front of him. "I'm not."
"It's just... I just, I have to ask." He says, clearing his throat as he writes it down.
"Of course." You nod in understanding.
"Boyfriend?" He asks, and as you squint at the sheet you can see it's not there, and he quickly covers the next lines with his palm, cheeks flushing pink.
"Yes." You giggle as he snaps his head up to look at you.
"You do?" He asks, voice catching as his curls fall back onto his forehead from the sudden movement.
"Yes, what is so wrong in that?" You raise an eyebrow at him, trying not to laugh.
"No, no, I mean, of course you do, you're beautiful, I just, you never mentioned-"
"Relax, Coriolanus. I'm kidding." You smile at the panic in his tone. "No, I don't have a boyfriend."
"Oh, right. Thanks, it's just for, yeah..." He mumbles, pretending to write something down behind his cupped hand so you couldn't see.
You shake your head at him while he's not paying attention, smiling to yourself.
"So, uh, do you have a job?"
"Not formally, but my ma is a seamstress. I help her lots with that. Fixing people's work clothes, stuff like that." You answer, getting back on topic.
"Did you make your dress?" He asks.
"Now I know that question's not on that form of yours." You laugh. "But yes, my ma made it for me when I was five. It's been my favourite ever since."
He looked the parts of it over that he could see above the table. It was well worn down, but well cared for. Similar to a lot of his own clothing.
"It used to be this big, flowing thing. Too big for a five year old- I would step on the bottom of it, just tore it right up." You recall. "So we trimmed the bottom, and as I grew, it grew right with me. I stitched up the bottom when I was old enough to enter the reaping, so now it's got shorts instead. But I still love it, lots of good memories held in the pockets of this old thing."
Shorts instead. So it's easier to run in. The thought haunts Coryo for a moment. The idea that you, at twelve years old, decided this is what you would want to run in, to die in, and took the liberty of sewing up the crotch in it yourself. Every stitch possibly sealing your fate.
"It's nice. I like it." He responds.
"Thank you." You smile, nodding proudly to yourself as you look down at the fabric. "It's real comfy, too."
"It looks it. Not very... restricting." He chooses his words wisely. No wonder you had kept it so many years. It still fit, so why not? Especially when it looked so good on you. The typically plain, neutral tone of the fabric complimented your skin tone so well. Even in bad lighting, it seemed as though you were glowing where the cloth met your skin. Glowing everywhere, now that he thought about it. Maybe you just lit up every room you walked into. Maybe it wasn't the clothing that was made just for you and hugged your form so flawlessly, maybe it was just you.
"Yes, it is not." You agree. "Now, our time is limited. Next question." You interrupt his thoughts, gesturing to the sheet of paper in between you.
"Yes, sorry." Coryo chuckles, shaking the distraction from his head. "Any hobbies?
"Reading."
"I did know that." He smiles to himself. "Anything else?"
"Well..." You think about it for a moment, chewing your lip. "I have a cat, and I like to play with him and take care of him, does that count?"
"I'll count it." He nods, quickly jotting it down. "What's your cat's name?" He asks, purely out of curiosity.
"Tybalt." You giggle.
"Tybalt?" Coryo tilts his head at you and you nod, bottom lip drawn between your teeth.
He nods slightly, prompting you to explain. "He's named after a character from Romeo and Juliet."
"That's your favourite, I remember."
"Good king of cats, nothing but one of your nine lives." You quote. "Mercutio calls Tybalt the king of the cats, so I named him after that."
"That's clever. Very funny."
"Thank you. I thought so." You smile proudly, watching him write down your cats name in his notes. "What is this for, if I can ask?"
"Uh, there's going to be an interview you'll have to do the night before the games. It'll be aired live on Capitol television, and people will be able to send in donations so I can send you things in the arena. Just like I told you." Coryo explains.
"An interview?" You ask. "What does that entail?"
"Well, I'm not sure yet." He answers honestly. "But we'll pass this sheet onto the host, Lucky, if you remember him, and he can ask you questions about your family, your life, any of this stuff. I think really whatever we want, though, so if there's anything in particular you want to say or talk about I can write that down for you."
"Oh, I'm really not sure." You reply. "Nothing in particular, but if you need me to talk I can talk about books for hours on end." You smile.
"Could you do a monologue?" He suggests. He had discussed this with Tigris before, and he was hoping you would, but knowing you, you would be dropping quotes in your interview anyway so you might as well commit to it and display how smart you are with something well-planned.
"Maybe, if you could find me a copy of Romeo and Juliet." You smile. "I think I know it, but it would be nice to have a refresher. Just to make sure I get it right. Would be awfully embarrassing if I made a mistake."
Coryo nods, quickly writing that down in the margins of the page. Considering he had never even heard of this book, it may be hard, but he would certainly try for you. "That would be great. Your goodbye was very moving, although quite confusing for most, but it had people talking about you and that's what we want."
"Okay. I'll practice."
"Thank you." Coryo smiles. "And I just have one more question on here to fill out... Do you have any special skills that you think will be helpful in the games?"
Your smile fades slightly and you just shake your head.
"That's okay. We'll figure it out."
That night, Coryo came to see you again. You were curled up with his blanket, draped half over yourself and half over Jessup as he lay next to you. It was a small blanket, obviously meant for a child, but it helped anyway. Maybe it was just a placebo, but for you, that was more than enough.
As you got up, hearing him call your name in a familiar tone, you draped the blanket more fully over Jessup before making your way over to the bars of the enclosure. "Good evening, Coryo. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"I brought you some things." He whispers, digging in his bag.
"How kind." You smile, watching as he pulls things out, handing you a napkin with some bread wrapped inside and tucking whatever else he brought under his arm to give to you after you've eaten. "Can you sit for a few minutes?"
"Of course." He nods, sitting down with you as you cross your legs and unfold the fabric carefully as not to drop what's inside. "I was hoping to talk to you anyway."
"Let's talk; it is not day." You smile, leaning toward him more.
"Should I be asking what that's from?" He jokes, but is surprised when you shrug.
"You could, but I wouldn't want to bore you." You giggle, shaking your head. "Take a guess, though. I believe you'd know it."
He smiles, watching as you take a bite out of the bread. "Romeo and Juliet?"
"Yes." You nod in confirmation, covering your mouth while you speak. "You're a real fan, now, aren't you?"
"I guess so." He chuckles. "The fact that I've never read it is unimportant."
"Completely irrelevant." You agree with a quiet laugh. His smile fades as his eyes land on something behind you, and you turn to follow his gaze over your shoulder. "What are you looking at?" You whisper, looking back at him again.
"Are you sharing everything I bring you with Jessup?" He asks, voice stern as his brow furrows at the question.
"I try to." You nod, taking another bite. "He's not well. I think something bit him the first night we were here."
"You can't." Coryo insists. Of course, he wants you to win, and you handing over every bit of sustenance or help you receive is only lessening your odds. Making Jessup stronger and you only weaker. "I know you're a good person, but once you get in that arena you won't have any friends. Not even him." Coryo explains, strategically skipping over the part where it makes him ill to see you sleeping with your head on the boy's shoulder and sharing the blanket that he gifted to you.
"Oh..." You say, so quietly he can hardly hear. "But-"
"Y/N." He cuts you off, a serious look on his face. "If you keep feeding him, keep helping him, and it comes down to you and him in the end, who do you think will win in that fight? If you had all the same nutrients and sleep, who do you think will win?"
"I- well..." You stutter, looking back at your friend. "It won't come to that. I think we both know that."
"We have to assume it will." He pleads, eyes now locked on yours. "Don't make it easier for him."
"Coryo, he's got a family, siblings, his ma to get home to. They need him." You protest, leaning closer so no one else could properly hear.
"So do you." He reminds you. The look of guilt that crosses your face indicates to him that even though you had your own family, something about Jessup makes you willing to give that up for him to get home. "What about Tybalt? He'll never know what happened to his own mother. Or your brother losing his sister. Y/N, please..."
Your eyes widen at the mention of your cat and your brother in particular. Clearly, Coryo is so desperate for you to listen that he's pulling strings he shouldn't. To make you hurt. To make you pay attention.
Tears fill your eyes as you speak. "I know." Your voice cracks, and the pit in Coryo's stomach tells him he's gone too far. "I'm sorry, I just- I don't want to be afraid anymore. It's selfish of me, I know, but I won't last long and I know that so I just want to get it over with." You cry quietly, reaching up to wipe your eyes on your wrist. You hadn't been so candid with him before, he almost doesn't recognize you without a smile on your face.
"Hey, no, don't be sorry. It's not selfish." He whispers, without hesitation reaching through the bars and resting his hand on your knee. Your skin is cold to the touch, even for him after he had just walked all the way here in the same air. "But it'll be over soon, and I'll get you home. I'll do everything I can."
You sniff and nod, hesitating before placing your hand over his. "I promise I'll do my best in the interview. I want you to win your prize."
Coryo's mouth gets dry at the insinuation. You didn't think you could win, you won't even consider it even with all the encouragement he tries to feed you every day, but you want him to win. "That's not important." He says, shocking himself with the sentiment. The Plinth Prize is his only hope at a viable future, at saving his family. But right now, he doesn't even care.
You don't respond right away, just sliding your hand under his to hold it. His skin on yours feels warm, comforting, the same way it did when he held it when you were first dumped in the zoo. You don't know if it's more comforting to you or him.
"I'm sorry to cry at you, I just sometimes realize what's going to happen to me and spiral over the possibilities and no matter how hard I try to accept it..." You shake your head, looking down at your hands. "I'm still fearful." Your voice drops below a whisper.
"Then don't accept it." Coryo grasps your hand tighter, leaning closer to you and looking at you through the bars. "Fight. Try to win."
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hailsatanacab · 9 months
Text
a father's son
Happy holiday truce, @dashing-through-ecto!! I was your gifter this year, I hope you enjoy the fic! Based on your prompt: "Do you need any help, Dad?"
Word count 2.2k - ao3 link
Things have not been going well for Danny Fenton.
Not only did he fail in intercepting Lancer’s call home, so now Mom and Dad know about his latest grades—he didn’t even get enough answers for an F this time, not when he fell asleep within the first five minutes—but they also caught Jazz taking the trash out for him.
“That’s one of your chores, young man! Heaven knows you don’t have many of them, which is why you need to be responsible and actually do the ones that we give you! It’s just not good enough, Daniel James Fenton, do you hear me?”
The full name.
It’s not often he gets it, but it sucks each and every time he does.
What sucks even more is that now, with what little free time he has, he’s cleaning the lab. It’s just not fair!
Broken glass skitters along the floor as he sweeps it up into the dustpan, ectoplasm still clinging to the bottom of the beaker. 
He can’t even goof off—can’t even use his powers to finish quicker—because his dad is sitting at the workbench tinkering with whatever his newest interest is.
Great. Looks like he’s stuck cleaning the boring, human way.
The lab is quiet, but it isn’t silent. 
Ectoplasm drips, maddeningly, from the gloop stuck on the ceiling. That’s a form of torture, isn’t it? Danny’s pretty sure he’s heard that before, that the constant sound of water droplets will drive someone insane. He can relate, because this is certainly testing him.
Dad’s talking to himself, too, little murmurs about what he’s doing, where he should be soldering, how it should be working and why it isn’t. 
Vaguely, Danny wonders what he’s working on. Sure, it’s probably some ghost thing, but that’s not all they do! His parents made some pretty great advances before the portal switched on and monopolised all of their thoughts.
Yeah, that might be wishful thinking, but stranger things have happened! You never know.
Every 30 seconds, the motor on the ecto-filter whirrs into life, syphoning off the excess, pure ectoplasm from the portal and filtering it into something less volatile. In theory.
Underneath everything, the portal hums.
A droning beat that pulses in the same rhythm as his heart. Sometimes, he catches himself staring at it, leaning closer as it calls to him.
It scares him.
“Shit!” his dad shouts, dropping the soldering iron with a loud clang. 
It’s enough to knock Danny out of whatever daydream he’d lost himself in and he whirls around to see his dad sucking on one of his fingers.
They lock eyes, both widening as they realise what’s happened.
“Ah, I mean, suffering spooks! That really hurt…” He shoves his fingers back into his mouth and his shoulders droop as he considers Danny. “Don’t tell your mother.”
Danny laughs.
“Are you alright?”
“It’d take more than that to put Jack Fenton down! All good, Danno, don’t you worry,” he smiles back before shaking his hand out and turning back to whatever he was working on. “Or, I would be, if this hunk of junk was cooperating with me!”
“What’s up?” Danny asks, curiosity getting the better of him.
Normally, he likes to stay out of the lab, as much as he can. 
Obviously, what Phantom does doesn’t count. Phantom can’t help but come into the lab, set ghosts loose into the Zone, trash whatever weapons his parents have got going on, sneak out into the Zone when he can for some much needed R&R. The ectoplasm just hits different there.
“I’m trying to repurpose this toaster, but the ecto won’t run smoothly through the wiring. I think it keeps getting cooked by the element.”
“Oh? Do you need some help?”
Danny doesn’t like spending time in the lab, because if he’s in the lab then he’s either Phantom and he’s trying hard not to be seen or heard, or he’s Danny and he’s being punished.
But his curiosity is piqued.
“Yeah, come here, have a look! Perhaps another Fenton brain can knock some sense into it!”
So, he does.
Hell, anything beats cleaning the lab.
“You’re trying to run it through here?”
Dad nods and shifts in his seat to give Danny a better view.
“But you can’t, because the ecto is tripping the heating element… which is way higher than a toaster has any right to be, wow. No wonder it’s destabilising the ectoplasm, that would destabilise anything.”
Danny pokes around the casing, wiggling the wires back and forth to get a better look at the absolute mess his dad has made of it all. Sometimes it amazes him that his parents' inventions work at all.
“That’s what I’m thinking! But it has to be that high so we can completely break down the ecto!”
“You want it to break down?”
“Yep!” Dad says, clapping him on the back hard enough that he wheezes. He grins down at him when Danny turns around reproachfully. “Think of it, boyo, if we could figure out how to flash fry that ectoplasm high enough so that it evaporates—which it should do, it’s goopy gross liquid, after all!—then you wouldn’t be stuck down here cleaning for so long! We could take it to the streets after a ghost fight and clean up the whole town!”
Well, it’s not a Nobel Prize level invention… Danny’s pretty sure at this point that his parents would be laughed out by the Nobel committee. But, a quicker cleaning of the lab does sound nice.
It would mean he’d be stuck down here a lot less.
Besides… It's interesting.
“What if we…” Danny trails off and pulls the metal frame towards him, grabbing the tweezers as he goes. Vaguely, he’s aware of his dad leaning over his shoulder, the weight of him watching is a comforting presence that he’s not felt in a long while. 
The real trouble is that you need ectoplasm to affect ectoplasm, and that’s not going to work if the object of the game is to evaporate it. 
So what if they don’t introduce the reactive ecto until the end?
He makes quick work of stripping down what his dad’s already done and starts again, this time focussing on keeping the heat contained separately away from the ectoplasm. Just as he’s piecing together a trigger to concurrently shoot a blast of ecto towards the heated tip, Dad exclaims as he realises where he’s going with it.
“Oh! Danny, you’re a genius! Look at that!” Dad laughs and squints closer at what Danny’s doing. “Just wait until your mother sees this, she’s going to be so happy!”
Danny can’t help but grin as he ductapes everything to a piece of toaster casing to give it the first test try. Dad’s enthusiasm is catching as he whoops when the first puddle of ectoplasm burns off in acrid smoke.
They spend another couple of hours perfecting it, welding a case together and branding it with the Fenton F.
It’s not pretty—but then again, when are his parents’ inventions?—a long stick with a cattle-prod-like taser at the end. Instead of electricity, it launches ectoplasm from one rod and superheats the other. When activated, all you need to do is touch the tip to a puddle and poof! It’s gone.
Danny shivers as he watches another pool go up.
But, no! He’s thinking about it wrong. It’s not a cattle-prod, it’s more like one of those sticks you see people using on the highway to jab at the litter on the floor. It’s for cleaning. It’s going to make his lab cleaning chores way easier! It’s—
“Danny, just look at it!”
Danny looks at it, and then back to his father’s face when he can’t bear to see the smoking ecto anymore. It’s painfully happy and Danny does his best to be happy, too.
“Here!” Dad shoves the contraption into Danny’s arms. “You use that and finish what you’re doing and then when you’re done—I can’t believe I’m saying this, galloping ghouls, I’m so happy, I’m working with my boy—we can get to work transferring it over to the Jack o’ Nine Tails! Imagine it, Danny, with one whip and that pesky poltergeist Phantom will be gone!”
Danny freezes.
It feels as if Dad’s just dumped a bucket of ice water over him.
“Poof! Up in smoke!”
The fumes are getting to him. That must be it. His head is swimming and his stomach is churning. There’s a ringing in his ears and it melds with the sharp, stinging whirr of ectoplasm sizzling. It pulses in time with the portal behind him.
He stumbles, almost goes down—almost throws up—but it doesn’t matter. Dad doesn’t see him, already turned away back to the work bench.
It doesn’t matter.
It doesn’t matter.
You know what, it’s okay! It’ll be okay, Danny can sneak back down here later tonight and he can undo it all, it doesn’t matter!
Take a deep breath, now, finish cleaning the lab, ignore Dad—it doesn’t matter—and get this over with. Being here makes his skin crawl, he needs to finish—
“I’m so proud of you, Danny.”
For the second time, Danny stops.
Dad doesn’t say anything else, just sits with his back to him, opening and closing his hand over a screwdriver with the Jack o’ Nine Tails splayed out in front of him.
It takes longer than Danny wants to find his voice, but he manages to croak out, “What?”
“I’m proud of you, Danno. I know this year hasn’t been easy for you, don’t think we haven’t noticed. Your mom and I have been talking about how you're doing at school. We're not blind. We know kids can be cruel, and that Dash Baxter… But we're so proud of you for not rising to it. We love you so much, Danny.”
A lump grows in Danny’s throat and his eyes prickle.
His fingers bleach white where they grip the Fenton Evaporator too tight.
“Look at what you can do when you try, Danny! This is the boy that I know, this is the Danny that I love. I’m so proud of what we’ve done here today. It’ll make the world a better place, just you wait! Now, come on, boyo, pass me that soldering iron and let’s really get stuck in!”
And… And Danny does.
With shaky limbs and tears threatening to spill, Danny reaches over and passes Dad the soldering iron, watching as he gets to work, and when his dad asks him to get his hands dirty—“Here, run this wire up the rope, there’s a good boy!”—he does.
Danny does it all and he does it well.
He sucks in a deep breath, swipes a hand over his eyes, and he helps his dad.
He laughs when Dad tells his stupid jokes:
“Quick! What’s red, white, and blue all over?”
“I don’t know, Dad, what’s red, white, and blue all over?”
“A ghost that we’ve beaten into oblivion!”
And he hopes that his mom is going to be just as proud as Dad says she will be when she sees what they’ve done.
It’s easy, really.
If he doesn’t think about it, if he tucks his mind away and just lets his hands get on with it, then he’s just helping his dad and he can do that. He can do it.
He can do it.
So, no, he doesn’t sabotage what they’ve built. He doesn’t add in a failsafe. He doesn’t loosen a few screws, or overload the element, or untwist a few wires.
Danny does his best and at the end of the day his dad holds up the new and improved Jack o’ Nine Tails and absolutely beams at him. A work of art, he calls it.
Danny doesn’t sabotage it then and he won’t sabotage it later, because it’s a work of art. This is what he and his dad built. Together.
Danny can’t help but grin back, happiness curling in his belly even as it gives a sickening lurch.
He doesn’t eat dinner that night, he can’t.
He stays downstairs long enough to present the new weapon to Mom—very pointedly ignoring Jazz’s look—and then he heads upstairs. There’s an English essay he needs to get started on, after all.
He doesn’t miss the look Mom and Dad share, the fond tenderness, the love, the hope, all directed at him.
He’s happy.
They’re happy.
They’re proud of him.
And despite it all, he had fun today! 
When he lays down on his bed, he smiles and he can’t stop the laughter bubbling up as he thinks about his dad. At one point, he had been holding up a circular piece of metal he’d cannibalised from the lamp shade to his eyes, moving it back and forth as he pulled his funny faces, and some of that full belly laugh creeps back in as he remembers doing the same back.
He laughs so hard until he cries, and he cries, and he cries. 
Today, he and his dad built a weapon. 
Tomorrow, it'll be used on him, but that's okay. 
It's okay because today, today his dad was proud.
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sunflower-lilac42 · 2 months
Text
𝘂𝗻𝗲𝘅𝗽𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗱𝗹𝘆 | 𝘵𝘻11 ୨୧
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➪ summary: y/n has a shitty day and the cherry on top is that she forgot the keys to her and cole's apartment. but funnily enough, someone answers her knock
➪ warnings: reader has a shitty day, breakups, crying
➪ word count: 1.4k
➪ file type: fic - reupload
➪ sunny's notes: i got this idea from tiktok or at least the main part of it but yeah. i don't have much to say except enjoy the fic :) oh! i might also be getting the cole and hughes brothers fics out tonight so be on the look out for those
© sunflower-lilac42 ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here
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While living in Canada, she had expectations that she would never see Cole’s friends unannounced. However, when one of his friends was Trevor Zegras, she should’ve known to expect the unexpected. 
It had been a long day in general, her boss gave her more paperwork to do, she spilled coffee on herself, and on top of it all, she and her boyfriend had been fighting and this had been the last straw for him. He broke up with her in the middle of the day, through text, when he knew she was still working, leaving no time for her to argue with him, to say anything to save them.
That’s how she ended up where she was now, her jacket wrapped tightly around her as she slowly trudged through the wet and cold of Montreal. Sludge was everywhere causing water to seep into her brand-new shoes and her socks, leaving her feet freezing.
The hallway to their apartment felt longer than it usually was. It felt like it took her ten minutes instead of just one to walk down it. Reaching into her back pocket to grab her keys she realized that they weren’t there. Fucking flying fantastic.
She raised her hand and knocked on the door, in hindsight, she didn’t know why. Cole was wherever he was, his location the last thing on her mind, so the apartment was empty. The knock came out as low as her energy level was. And, to her surprise, a minute later someone opened the door, and it wasn’t her brother. 
Trevor stood there, his hair slightly messy and face a little flush from whatever he had been doing (testing the durability of the siblings’ couch by jumping up and down on it). His lips were turned upwards into a grin but they quickly flipped down when he realized she was shaking and her mascara was painted down her cheeks.
He ran a hand threw his hair before she spoke, “Trevor? W-what are you doing here?”
Usually, she was good at remembering things people told her but it seemed like those skulls were lacking as of recently. With Cole playing for Team USA she had the apartment to herself, to do things as she pleased. But, the text that Cole had sent her a few days ago slipped her mind, the text that explained to her that Trevor was visiting and needed a place to stay.
Trevor said nothing in reply to her question, pulling her into his arms. His right hand wrapped around her waist and his left arm came up to her head, his hand holding it tightly to his chest. And that was all it took for her to break down, tears staining his off-white hoodie.
He turned around and kicked the door closed with his foot before lifting her up to carry her to her bedroom. She wrapped her legs around his waist, a habit she had fallen into over the last five years. He tried shushing her, her sobs breaking his heart but his efforts were in vain. She kept crying, but now her head was resting on his shoulder. As Trevor sat her down on the bed, he kneeled before her, brushing the hair out of her face. He desperately wiped at the tears that continued to fall down her cheeks.
When she stopped briefly, Trevor took her face into his hands, “What happened? Did someone do something to you?”
She had never heard his voice that stern before, and if she was honest, she couldn’t decide whether she should be scared of it or attracted to it. She only blinked at him in response and he sighed. His thumb rubbed under her eye, mascara now covering his finger. He pouted a little before kissing her cheek, “Please tell me what happened sweetheart.”
Trevor was always one for nicknames. He always called her honey, or baby, or sweetheart, or princess. But they never meant anything, not to her. It was harmless teasing, however, for whatever reason, this felt different. This one felt more real, like he was saying it to her, for, her. It felt different because all of those other times he said it, he called her a stupid little nickname, they were laughing, having fun, being idiots. And now she was here being vulnerable in front of him, crying, no bawling in front of him, breaking down as he cupped her face. 
Her breath hitched at the nickname, now that she had returned to crying Trevor didn't know if it was because of that or because of the nickname. 
After a while, her cries finally stopped. She stared at him straight in the eye before looking back down. She didn’t answer, she didn’t know how to answer. Everything had been so much that she didn’t know what happened today or what had happened yesterday.
Trevor urged her once more, his tone still stern but a little softer now and he allowed the desperation to be heard. He removed one of her hands from her cheek to hold both of hers, resting them in her lap, “Please y/n.”
“Everything.”
“What do you mean, princess?”
“He broke up with me. My boss hates me. I have a shit ton of paperwork. I spilled coffee on my favorite jacket. I ruined my new shoes. I forgot to text Cole good luck.”
Despite her listing a multitude of reasons for her to be crying, Trevor was still on the first one. His mind was still trying to figure out how Chris had broken up with her. She was everyone’s dream girl, okay maybe she was just his dream girl, but still. She was beautiful, she was kind, she was smart, she was adorable, she was everything anyone could ever want. 
Trevour thought he could cry right there when she pulled away from him to scoot back so her back was flush with the headboard. She curled into herself and Trevor frowned at the action. Standing up, he walked over to the side of the bed so he could sit in front of her. 
She reached out to hold his hand, giving it a slight tug and Trevor immediately knew what she wanted. So once again, he moved, now sitting next to her while she lay on top of him. In any other situation, she would’ve been embarrassed, if she had been making fun of him and he pulled her onto his lap, her cheeks would’ve heated up instantly. 
Yet all she wanted, all she needed was comfort. Her mind was completely focused on something different, multiple things. Being cuddled up with Trevor was the furthest worry in her mind. He rubbed her back up and down as she wrapped her arms around his torso, feeling content for once today. 
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For staining your hoodie.”
He kissed her head, “It’s okay. I needed a new one anyway.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Cole didn’t text you?”
“He probably did but I don’t remember.”
“Well, I came to visit my favorite girl.”
She lifted her head in confusion, “Who?”
He only rolled his eyes before kissing her forehead again, “You, you dork.”
“Why would you want to see me?”
He sighed before lifting her off his lap so she was sitting in front of him. He grabbed ahold of her hands, one in each of his, before locking eyes with her, “I know this isn’t the best time to tell you, y/n/n but I really like you.”
“You, Trevor Zegras, like me, y/n Caufield?”
“Of course I do. Why wouldn’t I?”
“Because I'm me.” She shrugged, not really having an answer for him. 
He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, “That’s exactly why I like you. Because you’re you and nobody else compares.”
“Trev…”
“I know, I know. You and Chris just broke up and you’ve had a long day. God, I’m such an idiot, I shouldn’t-”
He was interrupted when she placed her lips on his. It took a moment for him to register but once he did, he melted into the kiss, bringing a hand up to rest around her neck, his thumb brushing a piece of hair out of her face. His other hand wrapped around her waist and pulled her back onto his lap. Her legs wrapped around his waist before pulling away, resting her forehead on his. 
“I like you too.” He smiled and kissed her gently once more.
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