#she's much more patient than some of my other friends if that's the right word so that makes talking easier

[starpros-sunshine]

If I loved Wataei less I might be able to talk about them more....

[livinginshambles]

You're ridiculous, you know | James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.0k

Summary: Part one Masterlist

James sees you in a new light and wants to try to change the way you see him too, moment by moment. He is trying to win you over but understands that you're having a hard time believing that he's genuine about his feeling because of his sudden switch of focus from Lily to you (even though it gave him whiplash as well, but I guess he just accepted it faster.)

Notes: Best friend!James, he's less stupid, Lily is a sweet friend, fluff, pining, misunderstandings, (best) friends to lovers I guess, spelling mistakes probably because I typed this out on my phone.



______________________



With the hatch buried between you and James, you felt like you could finally properly breathe again. James had apologized again, of course and told you that he supported your new style.

Trying to balance your two friends groups however, did prove to be much more difficult than you thought. Neither of the two seemed very entertained by the thought of hanging out together as one group. Besides, James had become rather clingy as well, becoming his very own one man group to balance hanging out with.

"I now have abandonment fears," he jokingly defended when you raised your eyebrows at his arm, wrapped around your waist instead of your shoulder like usual while you two were walking down the open court yard.

"Right," you replied, seemingly not very impressed. You knew what he was trying to do, especially after your rejection. After all, save from Lily, he'd never actually been rejected. You assumed that this too, was a matter of pride. "You have nothing to prove you know," you told him and he merely hummed in reply.

"And anyway, you'll have to let me go now because my mum sent over some dresses for me. I'm planning on trying them on with the girls."

The grip on your waist tightened.

"No," he pleaded, "Don't leave me." He dramatically leaned his entire weight on you, dragging you down as well. Was he always this heavy? You incredulously thought.

"James, you'll make us both fall! Get up you're-"

"The earth is dragging me down. I can't help it, Love," he said in a playful, strained voice.

"Unless you want to spend the afternoon giving your opinion on dresses, I suggest you fight back against the earth, oh brave Gryffindor." You retorted, amusement clear in your voice.

James immediately straightened up. "Sure, I'll review your dresses," he happily replied.

‘Well’, you contemplated. You supposed it’s not as if you've never gotten dressed around eachother.”



Your mum had been very delighted at the news that she could go ahead and send over a dress through the mail. She went a tad bit overboard though, you thought as you looked at the heap of clothes on your bed.

James was sitting next to the said heap, waiting patiently for you to get changed in the bathroom. A pit formed in his stomach at the thought that he'd made things weird enough for you to want to get dressed in the bathroom. 'I mean, you've seen eachother naked before?' He thought. Not that he was aiming to see you naked of course.

His hands weaved through the beautiful clothes. He was sure they'd all look splendid on you. Would you go with him to the Yule Ball? His heart clenched. Probably not. You rejected a date with him to Hogsmeade. No way were you going to accept going to the ball together.

James stared out of the window, a lost feeling washing over him. How could he turn this around? Would you ever look at him that way?

The door opened and James' breath stopped, literally. It was simply perfect.

Mesmerizing, he thought.

'Merlin this was only the very first dress, how would his heart survive the dozen other dresses? You looked radiant. Like actually radiant. The dress made you glow with beauty and confidence. The color was what he could only describe as your color and made you look like bloody royalty.' He knew his opinion was biased, but it was still the truth, he thought.

And so his mind started racing. You were going to go to the ball, looking like that, with a date who was someone else. Jealousy flared up at the thought. He had to internally slap himself to shake him out of it.

You had taken his long silence as a negative opinion and quickly brought your arms to fold over your middle, covering yourself. "Not this one then?" You asked.

"No. I-I mean yes, sorry. I was distracted."

You felt slight disappointment at his words. Another sinking feeling in your stomach, but you reasoned with yourself that he just wasn’t used to doing this sort of activity with you. "You don't have to do this you know." You gently said and sat down next to him.

"Do you have a date to the ball?" He blurted out in response.

You were taken aback by the change of subject but shrugged. "There's been a few people who’ve asked, but I don't know. I've never talked to them before and it feels a little superficial that they only now would ask me out, just because they noticed I look and dress differently."

James could feel his heart plummet even lower if that was possible. Did you think that about him as well? You wouldn't be wrong of course. He'd only started to view you in a different light when you decided to go for a different style, and stopped only hanging out with the marauders after all. Guilt started to weigh his mind.

"Are you going to ask Lily out?" You tentatively asked.

"Of course," he automatically responded, without having processed the question. Your face fell a little. A confirmation, you thought. You were right. Maybe you'd have to accept one of the student' proposals for the Yule Ball after all.

James’ eyes widened and he quickly averted his eyes when you unzipped your dress right next to him. "The bathroom?!" He sqeaked out in panic.

You put on a grin. "Well, you look like you're bored and me taking my time in the bathroom will take too long. I guess I could just very quickly change here. Besides, you've seen me naked before."

James was somehow feeling more hurt at the prospect of you getting changed in front of him, than hiding in the bathroom. It meant that you really only saw him as a friend, he sighed.

You on the other hand, decided that you were hellbent on refusing to let your dynamic with James change because of unrequited feelings.



James was lying on his bed, wide awake. He couldn't sleep, mind wandering off to you, and he rolled around in frustration at himself and yelled into his pillow. Ashamed, he looked around if the he'daccidentally woken anyone up. He didn't.

He was restless. None of his subtle advances had apparently been noticed by you. And if they had, then you'd blatantly ignored them. James wasn't sure which option he liked better.

Tears of frustration and misery welled up in his eyes. He'd seen you get asked out by three different people today, and every time, his heart would stop, scared that you'd say yes.

The past few days, his eyes couldn't leave your figure as you went off to hang out with Lily, and he cursed himself for never having noticed you, too focused on Lily. He groaned and turned around again in his bed. "You're the perfect best friend," is what you had told him this morning when he had saved you from an awkward conversation with a seventh year Ravenclaw. His stomach had dropped.

'But you agreed to hang out with just him,' he kept telling himself in reassurance. Tomorrow was finally weekend and an off day which meant it was time for your not-date. At the thought, his heart lightened, and he managed to finally fall asleep.



You really weren't complaining at all. If anything you couldn't help your body from completely leaning into James who had once again wrapped his arms around your waist. Arms that were firmly holding on to you as if to not let you leave his side.

A week had passed since he asked you out on a date, and you and James were finally off to Hogsmeade together, your own heart both seering, as well as clenching at the thought that this was merely considered 'hanging out'.

Yes, you'd very much wanted it to be a date. Exactly like James had described it. Just the two of you, together on a date, which in a way was kind of what you were doing right now, even if you denied calling it that.

And if you weren't absolutely sure that you were setting yourself up for disappointment and heartbreak at the prospect of not working out because of his feelings for Lily, you would've definitely agreed with the biggest grin on your face.

But you were sure that that's what you'd be setting yourself up for. And having conflict avoiding tendencies had you make rational decisions such as then. Besides, the fact that he was going to ask Lily out to the Yule Ball confirmed that you had made the right decision.

'Could've been a date though', your mind seemed to whisper, and you grimaced. 'And then what,' you thought. 'Even if he settles for me, it would just be unfair for both of us. He never gets to be truly happy and I never get to be truly loved.' You scoffed.

"You okay, Love?" James shook you out of your train of thoughts, a concerned look on his face and he slowed his pace to a stop to properly look at you. His hands found their way to the sides of your face, his eyes searching yours.

You turned your head to the left and stuck out your tongue. He jerked away in surprise with a loud laugh. "That's foul!" He yelled. He was about to wipe his hand on his trousers when he stopped and then looked contemplatively from his hand to you and back.

Your grin was wiped off your face at the sight of the mischievous twinkle in his eyes and wasted no time to sprint off.

"You keep that hand to yourself Potter!" You shouted with a laugh.

"Absolutely not, you get back here!"

"This is a new dress, no way I'm letting you wipe your hand on it!" You quickly shot back and looked behind you to see him quickly catching up on you.

You watched with a face of disdain as he calmly wiped his hands with your sleeves, holding you in a headlock. "So unfair", you muttered.

James childishly stuck his tongue out and released you from his grasp.

It had you tumbling to the ground. "Hey!"

"Alright truce?" He asked and he stuck his hand out, both to seal the deal as well as help you up.

When you moved to shake his hand, he smirked. 'Oh so naive. You should know better.'

You noticed the trap far too late and weren't able to pull your hand back fast enough-

"James! Now that's foul!" You shrieked at his wet hand. Undoubtedly, because he'd spit in it moments before.

James was doubling over in laughter, and you took the opportunity to wipe your hands on his sweater. He let you.

“You’re ridiculous you know,” you shook your head.

“And you not at all,” he grinned. James wrapped his arms securely around your waist again, and you continued to head to Hogsmeade.



James looked at you from the bar counter. He was waiting for the drinks he ordered and admired you from afar. You were already sitting at a table in the corner for two and were munching on some snacks you had fished out of your bag, waving at him with a warm smile when you caught his gaze.

Sure, up until recently, he’d always seen you as the cool best friend that he could share everything with, tackle to the ground, tell gross jokes to, or get shirtless around when changing clothes. He was used to not at all treating you differently than Sirius, Remus or Peter, because in his eyes, you belonged to the same category.

But now, even though James also absolutely didn’t want your dynamic to change, he was conflicted because he finally saw you in a different light. He just had to try and make you see him in a different light as well.

The bartender gave him his drinks and he walked over to you with a grin. “Pick one,” he told you, still standing next to you and holding the mugs behind his back.

“Left,” you chose without hesitation. He put the mug in front of you and you looked suspiciously in the mug. At the sight of the green liquid you squinted your eyes at him. He put his own mug down and you leaned over the table to peer into it as well. Blue.

“Are you trying to poison us both?”

James snorted and sat down in front of you, “You got me.”

You kicked his leg under the table and he pretended to be in excruciating pain. “You wound me, Love,” He groaned exaggeratedly, all the way slouched down his chair and gripping his leg to sell his point.

“Want me to kiss it better?”, you teased and then immediately awkwardly paused. See this would’ve been a normal thing to say if you said this a month ago, but now it just made things weird. James however was grinning from ear to ear, absolutely soaking in the thought and cheekily replied, “Oh, darling, you must.”

‘Alright cheeky bastard’, you thought. Shaking your head with a chuckle, you moved your chair back and ducked under the table. James' eyes widened in shock, especially when you grabbed his leg.

“Drinking all by yourself?” Frank’s voice had both of you freeze up.

You moved to get up from your crouched position, planning on using a fallen hair tie as an excuse when James blurted out a different excuse. “No, just waiting for Y/N, she went to the bathroom.” You groaned and hit your head repeatedly against James’ knee.

Great, now it would be weird if you just crawled out from under the table.

“Y/N? I was actually looking for her, I mean we’re partners for potions class. You know what, I’ll just wait with you then.”

‘No!” James said, a little too loud, before he could help himself. He cleared his throat. “I mean uh,” James leaned in towards Frank and quietly, as if he was telling a secret, gleefully added, “We’re actually on a date.”

You playfully slapped his leg in a scolding manner.

Frank immediately seemed to get it and wished him good luck before leaving the table.

You scrambled out quickly and when your eyes met, you both burst out in laughter.



Despite your fear that dynamics would change and your resolve that you wouldn't allow it, you didn't mind the change so much if this was how it was going to be from now on, you thought to yourself. James had dramatically thrown himself half on top of you, head buried right under your breasts.

"Rough Quidditch practice", he'd mumbled before collapsing and absolutely melting like snow for the sun into you when you weaved your fingers through his curly locks, the other hand rubbing at the nape of his neck.

When you had tried to pull your hands away to retrieve your book from the bag next to you to pass the time while James seemed passed out, James had whined in protest, grabbing your hands and placing them back on his head.

"Prongs," you tried after a long time but received no answer. you lifted your hands from his head again and finally got a grumbled "What."

"Supper,' you softly spoke.

"Five more minutes, please?"

As if you could deny that request. After another few 'five more minutes' you finally gently pushed him off, both of you sitting up. He looked around, dazed, his eyes drooping and hair messy.

You entered the great hall with James trailing behind you, holding your hand. Peter spotted you and waved you over. James squished himself between Sirius and you, ignoring the other spot front of you that the marauders had saved for him.

"Blimey Y/N, what have you done with Prongs?!" Sirius asked, a horriefied expression adorning his face when James lazily rested his face in your neck. You laughed at his antics and shrugged, getting complaints from James at your movements.

Remus handed you two plates of food. "We saved these for you two."

"Thanks Moony," you gratefully accepted them and poked James with a fork. "Eat, you big baby," you said and pushed the fork in his hand. James internally groaned. But he was so comfortable like this. Why couldn't he just stay like this forever? He reluctantly sat up straight and started eating. He was hungry after all.

"Hey Potter, mind if we steal Y/N for a second?"

"Go away McKinnon," he was quick to respond and stuck out his tongue pettily. "She stays with me, you already had her the entire day."

You amusedly watched them banter. "I think you'll find that I will choose myself where I go, Prongs." And got up from your seat, moving down the long table to sit next to Lily.

"So what the hell was that Prongs?" Sirius inquired as soon as you were out of hearing range. Peter and Remus curiously looked at him.

"Oh, did I forget to tell you guys that I fancy Y/N?"

"Yeah that too, even if it was absolutely obvious," Peter shrugged.

Remus laughed at James' gaping expression. "What Padfoot meant was are you guys like a thing now? Like did we miss something? I thought you said she kinda rejected a date with you?"

James sighed dejectedly. "Yeah, she did." He straightened up again. But I'm working on it though."

Lily nudged you. "So I don't know if I should thank you or pity you."

"Huh?"

"I mean, thank you for getting James to stop pursuing me, but I'm sorry you have to deal with him now," she laughed.

Marlene wiggled her eyebrows at you. "Unless you don't mind having to deal with him of course," she smirked. "You looked pretty comfy," she added.

Alice nodded her head in agreement. "Frank told me you two went on a date last week apparently."

Your friends gasped dramatically and you were quick to deny it. "No, James just said that so Frank would leave us alone," you said and swatted Dorcas when she suggestively wiggled her eyebrows at you. "Ugh, you guys, be nice to me," you complained while laughing. "We're just friends hanging out, besides he still likes you Lils, look he's still staring at you," you said that last part with a sigh.

Lily raised her eyebrows. "Not at me, he's not." She nudged you again. "Look," she urged you.

You turned your head to look at James and your eyes met. He couldn't help but wink and felt very victorious when you looked away flusteredly, a big smile on your face.

'Could it be?'



Over the course of the next few weeks, James and you had gotten a lot closer. By now, you and James walked through the hallways, his hand always touching you somehow, whether he was holding yours, had his arm slung around your shoulders, waist, or lower back.

You also found yourself hanging around the boys dormitory alone with James more often than ever before. You were laying horizontally across his bed, your head hanging off the side of the bed. James went to the bathroom and you were passing the time.

You kept sliding forward bit by bit and when you were hanging low enough to look under James' bed, a brilliant plan to jumpscare him popped up in your brain. Perfect. You quickly moved to hide under his bed. Your hands ready to grab his ankles when he returned.

The door opened and you held your breath in anticipation. You peeked from underneath the drapes, covering your body and saw him look around surprisedly before a mischievous grin appeared on his face.

He called out your name to be certain and when you didn't respond, he pumped his fist excitedly and hurried to hide inside the wardrobe on the other side of the room, undoubtedly having the same idea as you and you couldn't suppress your laugh anymore. You rolled out from under the bed grinning like an idiot.

James joined you on the floor, although he did seem a little bit bummed out that he hadn't been able to prank you. "I guess genius recognizes genius," he admitted with a laugh.

"I have to go to the library to study," you bit your lip while you said it. Disappointed at the thought of breaking the peace.

James turned his head and looked over at you. You were so close. For a moment, he closed his eyes, relishing in the moment of having you within arms reach like that.

When he reopened his eyes, they flickered over your face and rested a little longer on your lips. It wouldn't take more than him leaning in to easily capture your lips and it took everything in him not to. It almost pained him literally. You turned your head towards James due to the lack of response, checking if everything was alright and if he had heard you when you said you needed to go.

"You're mesmerizing," he whispered softly, the words always on the back of his mind since he saw you in the first dress. You chuckled at that. "Using big words now, huh," you whispered back teasingly, a fond expression on your face.

"No, really."

Those two words left you speechless in surprise. You don't know what it was. Perhaps the sincerity on his face or in his tone. Perhaps the way he emphasized that he really meant it. Or maybe even the way he was looking at you right then. 

Whatever it was, it made you throw your reservations and resolve straight out of the window.

Rational decisions were the last thing on your mind when your eyes locked with James' and then you were both leaning in, meeting each other halfway in a soft, fleeting kiss.

"I think you're mesmerizing as well," You murmured against his lips and you could feel them curl up in a smile.



"You're such an arsehole," you laughed, slapping his ice cold hands away. You ended up not going to the library to study. After all, who needs studying anyway? Instead you and James had curled up against each other on his bed, entangled together and James decided to slide his freezing hands under your shirt, resting on your stomach.

"No, I'm mesmerizing," he huffed and attempted to warm his hands again.

"Did you even wash your hands when you returned from the bathroom?"

There was a long pause and you stared up at him incredulously. "James Potter! You are disgusting," you exclaimed.

“Oh don’t tell me you’ve never forgotten to wash your hands after going to the toilet!”

“Yeah, but I don’t have to hold the- the thing.”

James laughed loudly.

“You suck,” you huffed.

He held his hands up in mock surrender. "I can't be that bad, I won you over in less than a month," he wore a triumphant smile on his face and you wanted nothing more than to smack it off. You didn't of course, and instead buried your face in his neck in embarrassment while grumbling about arrogance. You two hadn't really talked about the kiss that happened 10 minutes prior.

Absolutely refusing to let you pull back mentally and physically, James had been quick to mention how uncomfortable your position on the floor really was, and he proposed to lay down on his bed instead where he changed the topic while still getting comfortable with you. It was his way of letting you know that he wasn't trying to skim over the fact that you kissed or ignore the fact that it happened, but rather that he wanted to ease the tension by doing so.

You were relieved and thankful for him, knowing that that tension would have absolutely made things too awkward for you, and that you would've definitely fled from the room in denial.

"I think I fancy you, James," you eventually quietly admitted to him, your voice muffled as your face was still hidden away.

His grip on you tightened and he pulled you even closer, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Yeah?" he breathed out, his heart soaring.

"Yeah."

"I fancy you too, Love." And with that you tilted your head up far enough to place your lips in a firm kiss right under his jaw.

There was another comfortable silence and then, "So, how about a proper date. You and me, us, together." He quickly clarified the last part.

You laughed out loud. "Yes please, Hogsmeade?"

"Actually, I was thinking maybe the Yule Ball."

[reminiscingtonight]

Pretending (Pt. 2)

Aitana Bonmatí x Reader

Word Count: 986

Part One

[WOSO Masterlist]

“Do you want to get married?”

You’re soaking in the sun, a welcome change from the cloudy skies of Manchester when Aitana pops the question.

You crack open an eye. “Are you talking to me?”

“Who else would I be talking to?”

She says it with the most serious face that you start questioning if you’re the crazy one here.

“Are you asking me what my thoughts are about marriage in general or marriage between us?”

Aitana doesn’t have to say anything, she only gives you a look. 

You sigh, propping yourself up on an arm so you can face Aitana when having this conversation. “We’re not even dating.”

Aitana shrugs. “If it matters that much to you we can give it a day.”

It’s such a ridiculous proposition that you can’t do anything but laugh. “So what? We can tell our children we dated for a day before we got married?”

This time she grins, finger drifting to hook around your own. “Time doesn’t matter. We both know whatever this is, whatever we are, it’s been going on far longer than a day.”

You’ve been back in Barcelona for close to a year now. The two of you picked up right where you left off, spending almost all of your waking moments with one another. Even when night comes round, it’s rare to find you sleeping apart. 

Ona calls you both codependent idiots, Ingrid calls it something sweet, all you know is that it works for the two of you and although you’re not dating, it’s a life you can find yourself getting used to.

When the break came around and Ona announced she was going somewhere tropical with Lucy, Aitana was quick to make some plans for just the two of you. 

You didn’t question it much, happy to just spend time with the girl you’ve been pining after for years. 

At first everything was normal. Sure, Aitana’s been a bit more sentimental than usual, opting to reminisce about your childhood adventures or bring up the unofficial first dates of yours from all those years ago. But you don’t think too much about it, choosing instead to focus on not ogling all of the skin on display as Aitana’s primary activity these past couple days have consisted of nothing but sunbathing.

It’s not like you haven’t caught Aitana eyeing you up and down a couple of times too, but it’s different between the two of you. You’re still patiently waiting for Aitana to drop the pretense that you’re anything more than just friends, hence the respect you’ve been giving (though if she continues wearing two-pieces and hanging off your arm all day every day you might have to catch an early flight home before you combust). Aitana on the other hand… well you’re not really sure what she’s doing.

Though you can probably conclude that she’s not pretending anything anymore if she’s asking for your hand in marriage.

“I love you.”

Though her words fill you with warmth, you can’t help but frown at her sudden change in demeanor. Just three days ago when you were still surrounded by your teammates in Barcelona, Aitana cracked a joke about loving you when hell froze over --- though you probably deserved that comment after you let Mapi convince you to dunk her socks in the ice bucket. Although she’s affectionate with you, she’s never this affectionate.

“Aita, what’s going on?” you sit up, taking care to scoop Aitana’s hand into yours.

The smile slips off her face as her eyes drop, fingers nervously tapping by her side.

It’s automatic, the way your free hand rises, rubbing at the furrow between her brows.

Aitana melts into your touch, face leaning forward until your hand has no choice but to cup her cheek.

“It’s just me. Nothing to be afraid of,” you murmur, trying to prompt Aitana to speak her mind.

Aitana looks lost in thought for a moment. She bites at her lip before letting out the longest sigh known to man. “Aren’t you ever going to get tired waiting for me?”

You’re not able to stop the laugh that bubbles past your lips. “If that’s what you’re afraid of, you have nothing to worry about. I’m in this for the long run, even if that means waiting for you until we’re gray and old. I’m happy with what we are right now as long as you’re happy too.”

“But what if I’m ready now?” 

You blink, not expecting the sureness behind her voice. There’s a slight fire in Aitana’s eyes, the midfielder looking like she’d move mountains just for you to understand how serious she is. 

“I know I’ve always put football first but you have always been the one thing I’ve wanted to commit to. You’ve been so patient with me, loving me when I never gave you a reason to. You bring me up when I’m sad, give me reasons to smile when I just want to cry, you’re what I love falling asleep to every night, and seeing your face when I wake up just fills me up with joy.”

Your eyes flutter shut when she leans forward to press her head against yours. You can feel her breath running hot against your lips and it takes everything in you to not bridge the gap. 

“I love the way you know me and I love the way you’re you.”

When your lips finally meet there’s no other way to describe the kiss than perfect. It’s short and sweet but it’s everything you’ve been waiting for. 

“I love you. So much.”

Aitana’s giving you a teary grin when you open your eyes, and you can’t do anything but smile right back at her. 

“So will you marry me?”

---

Ona’s eyes nearly fall out of her head when she sees the matching bands on your fingers when you stroll into the locker room a week later.

[monzabee]

déjà vu (beyoncé’s version) – ln4

masterlist

Summary: The one where a bad prank leads to you and Lando exploring an option you thought was not an option.

Pairing: lando norris x bestfriend!reader (nicknamed Tink)

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: smut elements but no actual smut, cursing, pining and of course fluff!

Request: “Haiiii. I love your style of writing Lando and feel like you would 100% do a request justice to scratch the itch in my brain Reader and him have been childhood friends, mutual pining with some sexual tension but never crossed lines other than a new years kiss with friends etc. So reader ends up training and qualifying as a physio/masseuse and travelling with Lando bc fun besties on tour together yay! Thinking she ends up getting to know his body really well from that and has to massage some intimate area- tension builds blah. They have a cosy night in together after front row quali to prep for the race, face masks cuddles bc really physically comfortable together and then some confessions happen. After this going out to celebrate home race (not jinxing tomorrow!!) and reader ends up dancing with another driver, Lando gets jealous fully opens up and they go home together (as much detail on that as you feel comfortable with) No probs if it’s something you don’t feel inspired to write! Pls continue writing whatever you love because I love to read your stuff!!”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! am i back after a literal month of no fics?? i hope so!! thank you so much for being patient with me you guysi i appreciate it, and i just want to say that this was the first time i wrote for lando (and you can definitely thank @userlando and her lando brainrot posts for that) and i’m kind of obsessed!! so as always, thank you to the anon for the request, and i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

Being friends with Lando has resulted in both of you getting in trouble way too many times, you realise. The most recent case? The both of you ended up in a supply closet nearby the Aston Martin hospitality, hiding from a very, very, angry Spaniard. The close proximity and the limited space wouldn’t have been a big issue, for if Lando wasn’t looking at you with that look in his eyes. Under normal other circumstances, your reaction would’ve been much more different to the one you give him now – which is a glare that shows him you are not happy with the situation the both of you are in.

You’re about to scold him, but the words on your tongue quickly die as he presses his index finger to your lips. “I know you’re about to yell at me,” he whispers as he tries to keep his voice as low as possible, “but I really don’t want to be found right now.”

“Then maybe you should’ve thought about that before, you bloody idiot.” You hiss while slapping his hand away, which wins you a mock pout in return. “Why would you play that song every time he walked into a room?”

“It’s his name,” Lando tries to reason, “I thought he’d be used to it by now!”

Here’s the sitch. Lando, being the absolute prankster he is, decided to play ‘Fernando’ every time his former teammate entered into a room that morning – which resulted in the Spaniard becoming more and more annoyed with him until he snapped and Lando had to find himself a hiding place. How did you get roped into this, you may ask? You have absolutely no idea, other than your best friend dragging you into a nearby storage closet as you were walking back to the McLaren hospitality after meeting up with some of your friends for a cup of coffee. And now? The two of you are stuck inside a closet which is obviously too small for you both, and Lando has to bend his neck in an uncomfortable position.

“Lando,” you whisper in an attempt to keep your voice down, “don’t bend your head like that, you’ll strain something.”

“Well it’s not exactly comfortable, Tink.” He grimaces as one of the shelves hit his neck, which causes him to let out a low groan.

Ignoring the nickname he’s used for years, you motion him to move lower. “Just– let me see, okay?”

He begrudgingly nods as he bends his body towards you to accommodate you. You let your fingers run across his skin to find any knots along his shoulders. He lets out another low groan, but this one is more appreciative as you work some of the knots your fingers end up finding.

You watch as Lando’s expression changes from painful discomfort to relief as your fingers work their magic on his tense muscles. For a brief moment, it's just the two of you in the confined space, and you almost get lost in the comfortable silence. “Feels good,” Lando murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, “I swear you have magic hands or something.”

You let out a breathy chuckle, “I just know your body, Lando.” After realising the words that come out of your mouth, your face flushes with embarrassment at the unintended implication of your words and you scramble to add, “Not like that, I didn’t mean–”

He smirks playfully, his eyes sparkling mischievously. “Oh, really? My body, huh? You think about my body often?” he teases, his hands squeezing your waist – and being lost in the moment, you don’t even know how they ended up there.

Your cheeks grow even hotter, and you feel your heart rate quicken. “No, that's not what I meant,” you stammer, trying to regain your composure, “and you know it’s basically my job to think about, you know?”

The mischievous glint in his eyes shine brightly as he decides to play dumb, “To think about what, baby?”

Your heart skips a beat at his teasing, and you can't help but let out a small laugh, trying to hide your embarrassment. “Don't be ridiculous, Lando,” you retort, trying to act cool despite the butterflies in your stomach. “I meant knowing your body like an expert, considering the fact that you pull a muscle every time you decide to do a physical activity.”

He chuckles, and his hands, still resting on your waist, give you a playful squeeze. "Sure, sure, Tink," he replies, a hint of playfulness in his voice. "But let's be honest, it's not just my body you know well. You practically read my mind too."

You roll your eyes, trying to playfully push him away. "Oh, please. You're not that hard to figure out."

Lando leans in a little closer, his grin still evident. "Is that so? Then tell me, oh expert of Lando Norris, what am I thinking right now?"

You raise an eyebrow, not falling for his trick. "You're probably thinking that you got away with the Fernando prank and now you owe me big time, your brain is empty most of the time."

He smirks, impressed by your response. "You're good, Tink. But you're right, I do owe you one. What can I do to make it up to you?"

You pause, the closeness between the two of you making it difficult to think clearly. "Well, for starters, maybe you can stop dragging me into your pranks and getting us into trouble," you suggest with a hint of a smile. “And I don’t know, maybe take pole for me, you know?”

As the playful banter continues, you both seem to forget about the predicament you're in. The confined space of the closet no longer feels suffocating; instead, it becomes a haven for shared laughter and camaraderie.

Just as the two of you are lost in the moment, the closet door suddenly opens, and you both freeze. The angry Spaniard stands before you once again, but this time, his expression has softened, seeing you and Lando in a surprisingly intimate moment.

"Am I interrupting something?" Fernando asks, his tone amused.

Your face turns beet red, and Lando lets out a nervous chuckle. "Oh, hey there. Just having a chat, you know."

But Fernando raises an eyebrow, still looking amused. "In a supply closet?"

You and Lando exchange a sheepish glance, realizing how the situation must appear to Fernando. "Well, we kind of got caught up in the moment," you admit, hoping he doesn't read too much into it.

Fernando chuckles, and there's a warm glint in his eyes. "I see. Well, it's none of my business, but you might want to find a less cramped place to chat next time."

You nod in agreement, grateful that Fernando seems to be taking the situation lightly. "You're right. We'll keep that in mind," you say, trying to sound casual.

Lando adds with a grin, "Yeah, and we promise not to play 'Fernando' every time you enter a room from now on." But he’s quick to correct himself when you give him a glare, “I promise not to play 'Fernando' every time you enter a room from now on."

Fernando chuckles again, seemingly amused by the whole ordeal. "I'd appreciate that. Anyway, carry on. I won't keep you two any longer."

As he walks away, you let out a sigh of relief. "That could have been a lot worse," you say, feeling a mix of embarrassment and amusement.

"Yeah, we got lucky," Lando agrees, giving you a playful nudge. "But you know what they say, Tink, nothing like a bit of closet bonding to strengthen a friendship."

You roll your eyes at his playful banter, but there's a fondness in your heart as you look at him. "You're incorrigible, Lando Norris."

He grins, "You love it, though."

You can't help but smile, knowing he's right. “Come on,” you say, “you have a quali to attend.”

The tension from the qualifying session had left you on edge, your heart pounding with every lap, and your nerves had gotten the better of you, leading to some slightly bloody nails from biting them in anticipation. But all that anxiety melts away when you see Lando step out of the car, grinning ear to ear. As soon as he catches sight of you, he opens his arms, and you don't hesitate for a moment. You rush into his embrace, holding him tightly, relieved that he's safe and thrilled that he performed so well.

"You were amazing out there!" you exclaim, unable to hide the pride in your voice. "P2, front row! That's incredible!"

Lando chuckles, his arms still wrapped around you. "I don’t know how we did it!"

You pull back slightly to look into his eyes, your heart swelling with admiration for your best friend. "I never doubted you for a second," you say earnestly.

His grin widens, and he playfully ruffles your hair. "I know you didn't. Seems like you’re my lucky charm, hm?"

“You know what that means?” You ask him return, a playful smirk on your lips.

His answer comes quickly, and his look seems to reflect your own, “Pizza and a movie?”

Your reply is just as enthusiastic as you throw your arms around him and give him a big smile, “Pizza and a movie, baby!”

Eventually, you manage to escape the whole hustle and bustle of the circuit, and you and Lando find yourselves back at the hotel, with you on the couch trying to find something to watch and him deciding to take a quick shower after the stressful day of qualifying. After a few minutes, you hear the sound of the shower running in the bathroom. You smile to yourself, glad that Lando is taking some time to relax after such a demanding day. As you wait for him to finish, you finally settle on a movie to watch with a small grin on your face, clearly pleased with your choice. Just as you're about to start the movie, you hear the bathroom door open, and Lando emerges, looking refreshed and relaxed.

After he gets the pizza box out of the oven, he walks over to the couch, wearing sweatpants instead of his jeans, and flops down next to you. "That shower was exactly what I needed," he says with a contented sigh.

You chuckle, glancing at him, while also trying to actively ignore the fact that he’s wearing grey sweatpants. "Feeling better now?"

"Definitely," he replies, flashing you a grin. "So, what are we watching?"

“Mamma Mia,” you scoff, “of course.”

“A classic, nice.” He nods in understanding, extending the pizza box to you for you to take a slice. “It’s still warm.”

You wordlessly grab a slice and pass the box back to Lando as you settle in your seat, ready to focus on your choice of movie. The comfortable silence between you feels familiar, like the unspoken language of best friends who have shared countless memories and moments together. Throughout the movie, you can't help but notice Lando's occasional stolen glances at you, and you find yourself stealing glances right back. He even winks at you with that boyish grin every time he catches you staring at him, making you giggle as you quickly turn your attention back onto the screen. You somehow find yourself sprawled out on the couch once the pizza box is emptied and discarded, and it’s harder for you to keep your eyes open. With your head on Lando’s lap, he plays with the ends of your hair as the two of you try to keep your attention on the screen.

‘Try,’ being the operative word here, since Lando realises that you end up falling asleep in the middle of the movie where Sophie realises all of the men she invited to the wedding thinks they are her father, and though he finds some kind of comfort in the chaos knowing that it will get resolved eventually, he can’t help but take his role as a makeshift human pillow very seriously. As the movie continues playing, Lando tries his best not to disturb your peaceful slumber. He leans back against the couch, adjusting his position so you can rest more comfortably on his lap while also trying so hard to not wake you up. He can't help but smile to himself as he plays with your hair, finding himself mesmerized by the gentle rise and fall of your chest as you breathe.

With a sudden realisation that maybe it is not the best thing to stare at you while you sleep, he tries to occupy himself with something on his phone while also trying to keep still so that you don’t wake up. However, the text thread between him and Max quickly makes him realise that the thoughts that he tries so hard to keep away. He never gave himself the opportunity to think about the two of you that way, he supposes. Not that it would be weird or anything, but in his mind, he’d seen, and been in, far too many relationships form and de-form to know that not all is permanent when it comes to relationships and it’s also not something he’d want to risk when it comes to you. Although the unwarranted thoughts of the two of you together, as a couple, have been haunting him for the past couple of months, he did a great job of sending them away and finding something else to focus on – up until now, that is. And now that he’s pictured the two of you together, holding hands in the streets of Monaco, going on dates, doing more than what ‘best friends’ are meant to do, it doesn’t seem that daunting to give it a try.   

He carefully shifts you onto his lap with gentle movements, surprised that you don’t wake up and also trying to figure out the best way to wake you up without startling you. As he gently brushes your cheek, your eyes flutter open, and you look up at him with a sleepy smile. "Did I miss the end of the movie?" you ask, your voice still heavy with sleep.

Lando chuckles, shaking his head, but not stilling the movement of his hand. “No, we just finished. You fell asleep somewhere in the middle.”

You sit up slightly, rubbing your eyes with a small yawn. “I'm sorry,” you say, sounding apologetic.

“No need to apologise,” he assures you, his thumb caressing your cheek. “You looked adorable sleeping, Tink.”

Your cheeks flush slightly, and you give him a playful nudge. “Stop teasing me.”

Lando grins, but there's a tenderness in his eyes as he looks at you. “I'm not teasing, Tink. I mean it. You always look adorable, no matter what you're doing.”

You feel your heart skip a beat at his sincere compliment, and you can't help but smile back. “Thank you,” you say softly, feeling a warmth spreading through you, “I, uh, I should probably go to my room and let you sleep.”

“What? No, you don’t have to go.” Lando’s eyebrows furrow on their own, “I mean, you could stay over, it’s not like we haven’t done it before.”

You give him an unsure look, “I don’t know, Lando, you have a race tomorrow.”

“And we’ll sleep,” he shrugs, “the name ‘sleepover’ implies that, baby.”

You end up giving in and nodding, albeit a little hesitant. "Alright, I'll stay over."

Lando's face lights up with a bright smile, clearly pleased with your decision. "Great! It'll be fun, just like old times."

You chuckle softly. "Yeah, just like old times."

And you’d expect it to feel like the old times, because the two of you said it would be like the old times – the times where you’d spend the night over at his house because his mother picked you up and you didn’t want the playtime to be over. But instead of the excitement of a prolonged play date with your best friend, you find yourself anxious in the hotel bathroom over the fact that it’s him out there, and there is no way that he is not aware of the way you feel about him. You take a moment to compose yourself, splashing some cold water on your face to calm your nerves. This situation is new territory for both of you, and you don't want anything to ruin the friendship the two of you have. When you eventually make your way out of the bathroom, you desperately want to go back in, feeling undoubtedly exposed under Lando’s burning gaze.

“What?” You ask, your voice coming off weaker than you hoped, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

It takes a minute for him to answer you, mainly because of the fact that poor Lando is having a brain malfunction at the sight of you in his shirt – which he gave it to you because it was the only logical option for sleepwear, you know? Suddenly regretting his possessive streak, he attempts to clear his throat, “Nothing, you look good in my clothes.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, and you try not to let yourself become reduced to a blubbering mess, “Oh, well thank you. It’s yours,” after a brief moment of realisation you quickly add, “but you already knew that.”

“Tink,” he calls out, snapping you out of whatever embarrassed state you’re in, and your eyes quickly snap to his. “Come here,” he pleads as he extends one of his towards you, he’s quick to draw you into his arms – and just like that, you find yourself straddling your best friend.

“This is crazy,” you whisper as Lando grabs you by the waist to still your movements as you try to find a comfortable position while not realising just how uncomfortable it becomes for him.

“It doesn’t have to be,” his whisper is just as soft as yours as he looks up to you, “we don’t have to make it weird.”

A compromise, you’ll take it. “Are you going to kiss me?”

“Do you want me to kiss you?” As much as you hate it when he replies to your questions with his own, you nod your head with a sheepish look on your face, though it doesn’t satisfy Lando as a valid answer. “I need you to say it, baby.”

You answer comes of in an instant. “I do, please.”

“Such good manners,” he mumbles while giving you that boyish grin you love oh so much. When he catches biting the corner of your lip, you’re broken out of your daydream by his thumb pulling your lip free. “Don’t do that, you’ll hurt yourself,” his thumb caresses the side of your lip, “that’s my job, anyway.”

Your cheeks flush at his playful comment, and you can't help but smile at his words. "Your job, huh?" you tease, feeling the tension in the air starting to dissipate.

Lando chuckles, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your waist. "Among other things," he replies with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Before you give yourself the opportunity to overthink, you lean in and press a soft kiss to Lando’s lips – it’s only a peck, a hesitant one at that, but not completely uncharted territory when you think about it. The two of you have shared kisses before, at Christmas or New Year’s at midnight, but somehow this simple peck feels different than any of those other occasions. Lando doesn’t rush you. He’s a patient man after all, and he knows that the feelings he has for you are reciprocated by the feelings you have for him. So when you look him with widened eyes, he gives you a soft smile and it does wonders to calm your nerves. It doesn’t take you long to press your lips against his once again, but this time the kiss is deeper, more passionate, and filled with the unspoken words that have lingered between you for too long.

It starts off with another peck, but this time you take the initiative to deepen the kiss, and the appreciative groan that leaves Lando’s lips makes you feel butterflies in your stomach. His hands move from your waist to the small of your back, pulling you closer to him, while yours tangle in his hair, revelling in the softness of his curls – and the fact that all of this feels almost familiar in some kind of a way. He’s not shy as he lets his tongue explore your mouth, in fact, he encourages you to do the same. It’s a messy kiss filled with colliding tongues and mixed breaths, and the hands that were on your waist one moment are now on your hips, encouraging their slow movement against his groin. It’s not a subtle build-up for any of you, either. It a matter of seconds, you find yourself dry-humping your childhood best friend in his hotel room, and in a couple more, both of you are whimpering into the kiss.

You’re both out of breath and breathing deeply as you rest your forehead against Lando’s. Thankfully, his hands continue to guide your hips as their movement get more and more erratic, and you him groan out, “Slow down, baby.”

You let out an objective whimper in return, whispering out a weak, “No.”

“No?” Lando repeats, his breath hitting your exposed neck in a light chuckle, “Do you want to come?”

“Uh-huh,” you mumble, letting your hands grab handfuls of his hair, “but you can’t fuck me.”

The whine that comes from your lips can only be described as bratty when Lando forces your hips to cease their movements, raising an eyebrow at you as he grumbles, “Excuse me?”

“You can’t fuck me, Lando.” You mumble, trying to move your hips again, but his hold is too powerful against your attempts. “At least not tonight.”

“And why is that, Tink?” He takes in your wide eyes and shuddering breath in, thinking he’d done something wrong, something you didn’t like. “You want to come, no?” He thinks at that moment, as you give him a nod with that dreamy and almost innocent look on your face, he could die and he’d be happy with where his life has led him, but he gives you a confused look, “Then what is the problem?”

“Um, you have a race tomorrow,” you explain as your fingers gently slide down to meet at the nape of his neck, “I don’t want to jinx anything.”

As a respond to your words, Lando gives you a look of disbelief, “You don’t want to jinx me having a good race,” he mumbles.

You give him another nod, “Are you mad at me?”

 “Am I mad at you?” Lando repeats the question, and he flips the two of you over in a smooth motion so that you're lying on the bed with him hovering above you, his eyes locked onto yours. “Answer the question for me, will you?”

You take a moment to catch your breath, your heart racing as you meet his intense gaze. “No,” you reply softly, your fingers tracing the outline of his jaw. “Why would you be mad at me?”

Lando's lips curve into a playful smile as he leans in, his breath warm against your skin. “See?” he murmurs, his lips brushing against yours, “Good girl.” As he moves down your body, you let out a protesting sound, but he quickly shushes you as he positions himself between your legs. “I’m going to make you come, and you’re not talking to Micheal Italiano ever again.” He taps the side of your hips to signal you to raise them up as he carefully takes off your underwear and then murmurs to himself, “Pretty girl, too.”

With a blush which is quickly spreading onto your cheeks and neck, you raise yourself onto your elbows as you watch him give you the do-over. “Lando,” you plead.

“Oh baby, you're wet,” he teases, “don’t worry, though, I’ll help you with that.” He also gives you a look while grabbing both of your thighs, “And the shirt fucking stays on.”

After the events of the previous night with Lando working wonders between your legs for the remainder of the night, he honestly didn’t expect to start the morning with you returning the favour. Alas there you were, between his legs, with sleepy eyes and an innocent smile as if you hadn’t just given him the best blowjob of his life. And as the two of you make your way along the paddock, he wishes he was back in his hotel room with you in his arms. You try your best to distract him from overthinking everything and costing himself the race, and Lando is aware of what you’re trying to do – though that doesn’t mean you succeed completely.

You can tell by the small frown of eyebrows that he is lost inside his head, probably double guessing every aspect of the strategy his team debriefed him about this morning. With a deep inhale, you give his hand a small squeeze, halting your movements to stop him alongside you. “Hey,” you call out gently, “you’re going to be amazing out there, okay? You have nothing to worry about.”

“I know, it’s just the pressure is getting to me.” You watch him sigh, closing his eyes for a moment to regroup his thoughts, “I’ll be fine before I go in the car, I promise.”

You nod, giving him an encouraging smile, “I know you will. After all, you feel the–”

“Need for speed.” He completes the sentence without thinking, which makes the two of share a short laughter. “Thanks, Tink.”

“You’re welcome,” lifting yourself up on your tiptoes, you give him a soft peck on his lips, “I’ll watch the race with your dad, okay?” You chuckle at his reaction when he lets out a prolonged groan, “What?”

“He’s going to make fun of us, big time.” He says, rolling his eyes.

“Go,” you say in between laughter, “don’t be late and for the love of God, be careful!”

Lando chuckles at your playful warning, giving you a mock salute. “Yes, ma'am!”

It doesn’t take long for you to find Adam, who gives you a knowing look, in the sea of spectators in the McLaren garage. And as the race begins, you and Adam stand side by side, your eyes fixed on the track where the race is unfolding. The first four laps as the Lando leads the race makes your heart beat so hard, you can practically feel the excitement coursing through your veins. Each turn and straightaway that Lando navigates flawlessly adds to the anticipation building in the air. Even when he returns to his original position, you’re on the edge, praying to whatever deity up there for him to finish this race without and incident. You’ve told him million times before that you don’t get F1 at all, you’ve always thought the adrenaline linked with the sport to be a negative feeling – too heavy, too much and definitely not something you want to feel every weekend. But in the moment that Lando passes the finishing line P2, you realise why people are so obsessed with this sport. Because when Lando crosses the finish line, you find yourself cheering as loudly as anyone else. The rush of emotions, once alien to you, now feels like a shared celebration of human achievement and dedication.

Lando is all smiles when he finally finds his way back to you, and he’s giving you a kiss the moment he has you back in his arms; celebrating with the team in the paddock was a whirlwind of emotions. As he wraps his arms around you and pulls you close, his big smile is infectious.

So you’re honestly confused when he starts dragging you through the hallways of the club you went to for his celebrations with the rest of the team. The beat of the music playing back in the dancefloor echoes in the hallway as he leads you down the hall. The lights, the laughter, and the energy of the celebrations in the main area of the club are still audible, but you can only hear the muffled sounds of the celebration being held for him. “Lando,” in hopes of finally getting some answers, you say his name for the umpteenth time, but he just looks at you with furrowed eyebrows, “what’s wrong?”

He's silent as he wraps his arms around your waist and before you can repeat your question he buries his head in the crook of your neck. While you’re thinking about what could’ve caused his sudden need to be alone with you, he’s very glad that you’ve opted to wear sneakers tonight instead of heels.

“Baby,” you murmur, your fingers running through his curls in an attempt to bribe him, “tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing is wrong.” His voice is muffled by your skin and you can feel the breath he exhales on your shoulder.

You purse your lips and give him a few moments for him to break on his own, but when he doesn’t, you sigh softly. “Something is wrong.”

He raises his head momentarily to give you an unamused look, then bury his head back into your neck, “I saw you and Oscar.”

“Yeah, we were talking about the race.” Your confirmation leaves you confused as he lets out a scoff, and you find yourself warily asking, “Is there something wrong with that?”

You hear him scoff again and then, “Well I didn’t particularly like it.”

You gently push him off of you as you try to look past his confused expression and pouted lips, “You didn’t like me talking to your teammate… about your race.”

“Well when you put it like that–”

“Lando he is two years younger than us, and he has a girlfriend you do realise that, don’t you?” Your hands rest on either side of your body on your hips as you give him a small grin, “You were jealous, weren’t you?”

His eyes widen as he nods, “Well yeah, Tink, I think that one was very much obvious when I dragged you here.”

“I mean,” you drawl, “it was kind of cute, you know?”

As his eyes narrow, Lando walks you backwards until you’re pressed up against the wall. “Well I am a cute person.”

“Oh yeah,” you let out a giggle, “the cutest.” Your fingers toy with the buttons of his shirt while you look up at him to meet his eyes, “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“That we should probably get back to the party?” He mumbles, his eyes drifting as he looks around the hall.

You fist the collar of his shirt as you raise yourself up on your tiptoes, your voice lowering down for only him to hear even if it’s a deserted hallway, “You don’t have a race tomorrow.”

His eyes come back down to meet yours, “Well yes, it’s Mond– oh,” it takes a moment for him to realise what you’ve meant, and you’re thrown over his shoulder in an instant.

“Wha– Lando put me down!” You shriek, “What are you doing?”

His voice is playful as he starts walking towards the back door of the club, “We are not leaving that hotel room for a few days.”  

It doesn’t take long for you to start laughing, “You’re an idiot.”

“Maybe,” he shrugs the opposite shoulder, “but I’m your idiot.”

The sincerity in his words catches you off guard, but you can’t help the small smile forming on your lips as you murmur, “Yeah, yeah you are.”

[underdark-dreams]

It's finally here, all 7k words of it 👀 Thank you for everyone who read chapter 1, and waited so patiently!

[ch1]

Birds and Bees - Ch.2

Rolan isn't usually the type to accept help. In his defense, Tav is very persuasive—and he is very, very desperate.

Tags: Tailplay, Oral Sex, Biting, NSFW | Word Count: 7.7k [Read on AO3]

Rolan didn’t appear again for the rest of the day.

After their awkward exchange this morning, Tav felt she might be somewhat to blame. She tried to recall the bits of Tiefling etiquette she’d picked up from the Elturians; perhaps touching his tail had crossed some sort of line? Either way, the gesture seemed unthinkably forward to her now. 

Then again…Rolan was the one who’d coiled his tail across her desk like that, its tip nearly brushing her hand as she wrote. She’d never seen him do anything like it before. If she didn't know him so well, she’d have found the move almost flirtatious.

At shop’s close, Cal took charge of locking up the front. Tav caught sight of the large iron keyring he carried and realized that it must be Rolan’s. So his brother had checked in on him today, at least—that gave her a modicum of relief.

Lia pitched in to help wipe down all her equipment and carefully fill the many waiting bottles with her cooled elixir. Tav held her tongue from repeating any of the worries she’d made after Rolan during the day—but it seemed her silence was just as damning.

“Stop fussing,” Lia repeated firmly. “Rolan’s just overdue for a rest. I mean, you saw his face.”

“I did.” Rolan had never been the type to slow down or show weakness easily. To Tav, the fact that he’d willingly taken himself to bed worried her more than anything. “Just promise you won't let him turn down a healer if he needs one?”

“If it comes to that, which it won't,” Lia said down to her work. “I promise we’ll find someone, okay?”

Tav kept her tone teasing as she packed away the sealed bottles in their crate. “Hmm, yes…if only you already knew someone with some knowledge of healing.”

Lia let out a bark of laughter. “Trust me, you’re the last person Rolan wants to see right now.”

The sting of those words took Tav by surprise herself. Lia caught their edge too; she pulled up with a grimace, letting a few drops of antidote dribble onto the desk. “Shit, Tav, I didn't mean it like that.”

“It’s okay,” Tav replied, making a fuss of sealing up the filled crate. The thought made her feel rather less than okay, which she didn't want Lia to see. “I think—I don’t know. I feel like I did something rude today, anyway.”

“Oh?” Lia’s tone was light, but she allowed a conspicuous pause to stretch between them. Tav pushed through a twinge of embarrassment to turn to face her.

“Lia, what would you think if I touched your tail?”

Lia glanced up with an eyebrow cocked. “What, right now?”

“No, just—say I did by accident.”

Lia straightened to take a thoughtful inhale. “I mean…it depends on the context. You and I are friends, I wouldn’t think much of it. Unless you grabbed it up by my backside or something,” she added with a laugh. “It wouldn’t be a big deal. If I’m walking somewhere crowded, lots of people might brush against it unless I’m careful.”

Tav had moved around to reset the rest of her clean glassware as she listened, feeling marginally relieved by the explanation.

Then Lia paused her work again. “Are you saying you touched Rolan’s tail?

“You what now?”

With impeccable timing, Cal skidded to a stop at the edge of the conversation, a heavy lockbox under one arm.

Tav glanced between the two of them. “Yes?” The word came out as a question somehow; her mouth went dry as they stared at her. “Like you said, I didn't think it was a big deal. He laid it on my desk while I was working, so I just kind of—” She mimed a little picking-up motion with her hand.

The siblings exchanged a significant look with each other. 

“What?” Tav felt her face burning and knew the color must be noticeable to either of them. “How does it being Rolan’s tail make it different?”

Cal turned back to her with a frown. “What do you mean he laid it on your desk?”

“I don't know, damn—clearly I’m no expert!” She flailed her arms out a bit. “I just turned around and it was sitting there by my hand, all right?”

Another shared glance.

“That explains it,” Cal decided. It earned him a swift pinch on the arm from his sister. “Ow, hey—”

Tav looked between them again, trying to translate. “Explains what? Seriously, if I offended Rolan somehow, I want to kn—”

“You didn’t,” Lia cut in firmly. “This one here's just an idiot. It’s harder to control your tail when you're sick or tired, and Rolan’s been both, that’s all. I'm sure it was a mistake. And he shouldn't have minded you moving it,” she finished with a decisive nod.

With that, Lia snatched up the filled crate from her with one arm and grabbed her brother’s sleeve with the other. Cal stumbled slightly as she pulled him along, but he wisely held his tongue as they headed for the back stockroom. The hinges creaked shut behind them both.

Tav was left standing alone in the cavernous interior of Sorcerous Sundries, beside the desks that she and Rolan used to comfortably share—not sure if she should feel better or worse.

—

The next morning, Rolan was once again nowhere to be found.

He hadn’t even conjured his projection the way he usually did when occupied with research in the Tower. It was a shame; the shop was unusually busy by midday, and Cal and Lia worked without pause. When she could, Tav left her alchemy just to lend a hand with customers or make runs to the supply room.

She found herself worried to the point of irritation. Was Rolan really so stubborn that he wouldn’t take a potion? Or accept healing from someone he’d claimed was a trusted friend and colleague? She tried and failed not to be hurt by it.

Then again, Rolan had always been the type to shoulder his way through awful things alone while firmly turning down help—particularly from her. His apprenticeship, most recently. The memory made her radiantly angry on his behalf even now.

“Shit—” 

Tav jerked away from the flask and sucked on her freshly scalded thumb. She must have the ratios off again; this recipe wasn’t new to her, but the nuances had escaped her all morning. These sublimates shouldn’t get nearly so hot when mixed.

Might as well admit defeat and review the recipe before she wasted yet another bunch of black oleander. Surely there was a reference text somewhere in Rolan’s library?

Tav glanced around to the front of the shop. Cal was recording a sale at the front desk; Lia was chatting with a very large half-orc over near the conjurement runes. Things seemed well enough in hand. Tav damped the flame at her station and quietly took the stairs for the portal.

For lack of a better word: the library of Ramazith’s Tower was absolutely magical. 

Tav stood breathing in the quiet afternoon sunlight, taking an appreciative look up around her. The collection must be the best one this side of Candlekeep, with all sorts of books on spellcraft, Weave theory, alchemy, religion, the history of Toril—just to scratch the surface. She could think of no hands more deserving than the ones its ownership had fallen into.

Just as Lia mentioned the other day, Rolan had clearly been hard at work reorganizing the place. She ran her fingertips over the books’ spines as she walked around the perimeter of the main floor.

She imagined Rolan with his robe sleeves pushed to his elbows, enthusiastically at work in his book stacks, and bit back a grin. There was something so endearing about his passion for taming disorder. As she walked, she found her gaze drifting to the delicate staircase at the far end of the main floor. It spiraled upward invitingly. 

She’d never been to the upper floors of Ramazith’s Tower—nothing past the library. Certainly she hadn’t stepped foot in any of the private quarters of Rolan or his siblings. She wouldn’t even know which door led to whose.

But her mind wandered readily at the thought of Rolan’s bedroom. What it might look like…smell like. 

No doubt it was packed with shelves of books and scrolls, filled with the scent of fresh parchment and leather-bound volumes. That warm, bookish smell that seemed to be woven into his robes. The fresh hint of cedar from the way he kept his clothes meticulously cleaned and stored. And that other faint spice that she could never identify, but always picked up when he stood close to her.

The same scent that had filled her lungs with dizzy pleasure when he’d hovered close to her yesterday, chin brushing her shoulder and arm circled possessively around her waist— 

She bit her lip as heat pooled between her legs at the memory. She couldn't help it—how very fucking nice it had been to feel Rolan’s elegant hands on her, casually and effortlessly touching, as if he was accustomed to touching her much more often and much more intimately.

It would do no good to dwell on that moment. If anything, the uncharacteristic gesture was just proof of how out-of-sorts Rolan must be feeling. He was her friend, and by all accounts, he’d been too sick to leave his room for days. 

With a sudden burst of determination and a disregard for the consequences, she strode for the stairs.

Taking the curving ascent so rapidly left her dizzy. Tav planted her boots on the landing for a moment, holding onto the railing while she took in her surroundings.

This upper hall was also quietly sunlit, filled with fine carpeting and oak paneled walls; but the atmosphere was somehow less grand than the cavernous library below. More intimate. 

Two doors stood on both ends of the hall. Hazarding a guess, she stepped to the closest one on her left. Its heavy oak panels swung forward with the slightest touch.

Not a bedroom at all, but a bath—and a tremendously fine one at that. All the fixtures seemed to be wrought from polished gold. Underneath a towering stained glass window stood the deepest, widest clawfoot tub she’d ever seen.

As she gazed around, Tav caught sight of her reflection in a large glass above the sinks. Her hair was all frizzy flyaways from a day over her potion work. Indulging a bit of vanity, she paused to tame it with her fingers.

One of Rolan’s many endearing habits was his dedication to fastidiousness. Never a hair out of place, horns polished and shining, robes immaculately pressed—knowing him, with a bit of the Weave.

She must look like some sort of wild hedge witch by comparison. Tav had never minded life in the wilds as a wayward adventurer, even after the Elder Brain was felled to the Chionthar. It was part of what drew her to the career of a traveling alchemist. 

But there were moments…most of them in this Tower, with Rolan and his siblings. Sharing a meandering dinner at a real table with actual chairs. Sitting with Rolan out on the starlit balcony, discussing blood alchemy over a glass of wine as they watched the harbor.  

Tav forced her hands still and stared back at her reflection. 

“What do you want?” She muttered to herself. The Tav in the mirror had no answer. But in her mind, one softly bloomed.

Over the past months, her feelings had tumbled forward faster than she could keep up with them. Seeing Rolan, talking with him about anything and everything, working beside him in quiet moments—she found those were the moments she looked forward to most.

His offer to turn one of the Tower’s empty vaults into a greenhouse for her. Essentially giving her a permanent place in his home, if she wanted it. Was it stupid to hope that he wanted more, too?

As she stood frozen silent in the confines of her lavish surroundings, a muffled sound came from her right.

She hadn't noticed the second door past the bathtub; presumably connecting to one of the bedrooms. She realized it most likely led to Rolan’s.

She stepped toward the heavy oak paneling and raised a hand to knock. As she did, more muffled noises came from within. Tav hesitated, questioning whether she should—then leaned in to press one ear to the wood.

There were the sounds of labored breathing, as if from pain or exertion. She strained her ear harder. There was something almost…rhythmic in it.

And then—she could swear—she heard Rolan's voice groan her name aloud.

A shock of heat ran through her chest, prickling up her neck and diving between the cleft of her legs. The rapid, hot ache at her core made her gasp out in surprise, then clap a hand to her mouth lest he heard. She felt her cheeks burning with realization.

Whatever she had expected to find by wandering up here…this had never been on the list. All she saw in her mind’s eye was Rolan, sweating and panting and desperate. And that thought filled her with overwhelming want in response.

Tav pushed herself back from the door with a jolt. She turned and ran, not knowing or caring whether the ring of her footsteps on tile carried past the door. Her pulse pounded against her ears as she rushed out of the room and back for the staircase. 

Even before Tav’s foot hit the third stair, she knew she was headed for the Elfsong. And a very stiff fucking drink.

—

Day passed to night and back to day again in a feverish jumble. Like a vessel adrift in a vast ocean, Rolan was passed along wave after wave of searing impulse.

Had his ruts always been this overwhelming, and he’d just forgotten? Or was there something different about the drives this time around? 

Even the little dignities were stripped away, one by one. He began by conjuring mage hands at first, but his concentration faltered too many times at the cusp. He finally just settled for his own grip. Desperate sounds rose in his chest each time he neared his next finish, the likes of which he’d never utter voluntarily.

And he quickly gave up on clothes altogether. He lay naked and spread-eagle on his sheets and tried to sleep when he could, before his demanding cock inevitably twitched back to life again. The fever turned his dreams shockingly lewd whenever he did manage to drift off.

By sunset, another strong wave of need was pulsing through his core, demanding his attention. Rolan lay back against his pillows and groaned open-mouthed as he stroked himself.

Even slick with oil, the friction between his hand and the raw, overstimulated ridges of his cock bordered on painful. His finish danced out of reach to the back of his mind.

With an impatient growl, he flipped over to his knees and snatched up a feather pillow, folding it into a sleeve for his cock. A crude solution—but with his first few thrusts, the cool softness of the silk caused a moan of relief to rise in his throat. He squeezed his eyes shut as he fucked his own pillow in a desperate chase for relief.

And behind his eyelids, there she was again.

Tav appeared there so easily now. He’d tried to fight it at first—ashamed to be using her like this, without her knowledge or consent—but he found that nothing satisfied his urges so well as when he pictured her on his cock.

So he closed his eyes and imagined Tav…pliant, eager, hungry. Legs spread and center dripping with desire for him. The shameful depth of his need faded away as he fantasized her own. How her eyes might shine as she panted and gasped under him, calling him by name and begging him to fuck her and fill her and mark her as his—

What would she sound like as he took her? He conjured the timbre of her voice, always warm and musical, now canting to a whine as the ridges at his base slammed against her with each thrust.

Pressure coiled rapid and hot at his loins. Rolan slid off the mattress with legs braced, the pillow cast aside, and tugged frantically at his stiff length again. His tail arched and flicked behind him.

Through clenched eyelids he saw Tav laid at the foot of his bed, hair splayed in a messy crown against his sheets as she cried out his name. Her legs crossed behind his flanks to hold him deep inside her tight wet heat—

‘Rolan—’ She moaned louder, her heels digging into his lower back as he took her. Tav gripped two handfuls of the bedding underneath as he thrust relentlessly, chasing more of her heat around his cock, more of the delicious scent at her throat and between her legs—

“Rolan!”

“Fuck—” With a strangled gasp, Rolan’s hips stuttered one last time as his come spilled in ropes to the floor. Panting and shaking, he caught hold of the bed post with one hand as he frantically worked out the rest of his finish with the other. His head spun with the force of it.

But as he opened his eyes and his vision cleared, so did that cottony feeling in his ears. Someone was rapping insistently on the door to his room.

“Rolan, we need to talk—” Even muffled by the heavy wood, Tav’s voice was unmistakable.

“Fuck,” Rolan hissed again, this time with enough wits about him to panic. How much of that last performance could she hear through the door? He snatched up the nearest towel to wipe himself, then tripped away toward the pile of clothes on the floor that had lain untouched since yesterday.

“Go away,” he called tersely, nevertheless yanking the trousers up over his hips. Thank hells that last round had left him soft enough he could do up the laces for now.

On the other side of the door, she was undeterred. “I’m not leaving till I’ve seen you.”

Rolan cursed as one of his horns snagged the ties at the neck of his shirt. Once the fabric dropped over his torso, he whirled around to take in the state of his room. 

Bedsheets pulled sideways from the mattress; pillows strewn across the floorboards; air thick with the smell of him. Absolute filthy shambles.

Using a rush of energy he couldn't afford, he cast a mass prestidigitation spell on the space. The improvement in the air was immediate. But the resulting light-headedness caused him to stumble forward; he caught himself with a hand braced on the door frame.

“I'm not joking,” Tav called loudly, unaware he was now much closer.

He could have yelled at her to wait outside for another week, then, if he wasn't so sure she was stubborn enough to actually do so. After all, this was the person who’d defeated an Elder Brain and taken on several gods in the process.

That…and he found he badly wanted to see Tav in the flesh. Hearing her voice from just beyond his bedroom door only increased that desire. Rolan’s tail lashed behind him in helpless frustration.

“What do you want?” He asked instead, lowering his voice. No use broadcasting any more of this conversation to the whole Tower.

There was a pause on the other side of the oak paneling. “I’ve barely seen you since I got here,” Tav’s voice replied, matching his volume.

“And?” 

“And I'm worried about you…obviously,” she added. “Cal and Lia said you’re sick. But I’d feel better if we could talk face to face.” Even through the barrier between them, he could hear a strain in her voice. She wasn't lying. 

Rolan rested his horns against his braced forearm with a sigh. “Tav, I swear I'm perfectly fine.”

“Then just open the door a moment. Please, Rolan?”

It was far too pleasant to hear her say his name outside of his own imaginings. Rolan glanced down at himself. Barefoot, shirt untucked, but technically presentable. And not pitching a tent for once in the past twenty-four hours. 

“If I do, will you leave?” 

There was another pause. “If you want me to,” came the reply. He unbolted the latch and drew it open to shoulder width.

The wave of Tav’s scent hit him almost before he registered her face in front of him. The sweetness of it overwhelmed his other senses for a moment. It tested all Rolan’s limited reserves of sanity not to grab her by the waist and pull her body against him.

Unaware of the silent struggle raging in his chest, Tav stood with face tilted up toward his. Her eyes had traveled over his figure immediately, checking him over with a worried little crease between her brows. Something at the side of his head caught her eye; Rolan realized his hair hung loose and rather sweaty, exposing the slender tips of his ears.

Her demeanor changed at the sight. Tav sighed, leaning her head against the flat of the door.

“You’re even handsome with a fever,” she told him softly.

Rolan blinked at her. Perhaps exhaustion and hormones were driving him to hallucinations. “What are you—”

Faster than he could react, her palms landed on either side of his face, and Tav pulled his mouth down to hers.

A burst of colors exploded behind his eyes; the sensation of her lips moving on his kindled the dormant heat in his body to wild blaze. She notched her hands upward as she kissed him, and her fingers slid up along the sensitive tapers of both his ears.

Rolan let out a hungry, animal sound against her mouth. Both hands landed on her back and crushed the line of her body forward into his, leaving no space between them. He could feel the soft hills of her breasts pressing against his chest through clothing. The warm scent rolling off her skin and hair surrounded him with dizzying force.

The higher part of his mind was screaming at him. Rolan desperately tried to focus on what it was saying; as he did, he caught the tang of wine on her lips. The discovery gave him just enough will to pull back from her.

And he did, with one jerking step back into his chambers. “You can’t be here.”

Tav stood panting through parted lips, eyes half-lidded as they traveled over him. Rolan felt flames lick his skin everywhere they moved.

“Why not?” She breathed. “I wanted to see you.”

“You’re drunk,” he told her. He rather felt that way himself, still reeling from the electricity of kissing her.

Tav pouted at that, and Rolan wished to bite that lower lip firmly between his teeth. “I’m not drunk,” she corrected. “I’ve had a drink. There’s a difference.”

“You wouldn’t be here if—”

“If what?” Tav watched him as she took a step closer. Rolan stepped back in tandem, reflexive. She was well over the threshold now. “If I knew what was really happening to you?”

Those words sounded much more knowing than he liked. Rolan stared at her, trying to read into her face. He swallowed against the dry lump of his tongue and went out on a limb. “Which one of them told you?”

Tav shook her head. “Cal and Lia have been nothing but discreet.” 

“Then how could you possibly understand?” He demanded. The very recent discovery of how soft Tav’s lips were was making it very difficult to maintain this conversation. He could still feel the way her body had pressed into him.

One corner of her mouth twitched. “Rolan, I’d like to think I’m not completely oblivious. There have been…signs. And I’ve had a lot of time to think about them. I’ve been at the Elfsong all afternoon, just—thinking.”

At that, Rolan felt his tail twitching nervously behind him. “I see,” he replied. Pivoting, like an idiot, trying to pretend this was a perfectly acceptable conversation to have with the woman who occupied most of his thoughts when he was pleasuring himself. “And you think that I—that my—”

Tav made a quick twisting motion to get around the door. She latched it and drew the bolt closed behind them, then turned back to him.

“A lot of humans have heard rumors about Tieflings,” she confessed. “Some stupid, but some credible. I’m saying this is maybe not the secret that you think it is.” As he watched, a much deeper blush spread over Tav’s cheeks. She glanced away to the side. 

“Rolan…I grew up in the Dales, remember? Around rabbits, and cattle, and oxen. Half my friends lived on farms.”

Her analogy couldn’t be clearer. To hear her lay it out so plainly—Rolan felt the last dregs of his pride shrivel up and die. He gripped two palms over his eyes and let out a groan of abject humiliation, turning away to the middle of the room. 

How early had she connected the dots? The moment she felt him brazenly place a hand around her? Had she known all along that he was locked up here, rutting into every one of his pillows?

“Look, Rolan, I’m sorry—I didn’t know how else to say it—” 

Completely overwhelmed by his embarrassment, he hadn’t heard her follow. When Rolan finally dropped his hands from his face, he turned to find Tav standing very close to his chest.

“And I’m sorry for kissing you before,” she blurted out. “I mean, I’m not sorry for it…I’ve wanted to do that for a long time, to be honest. But it wasn’t fair. I just…wanted to know how you’d react.”

Rolan watched as her chest rose and fell heavily where she stood. The look in her eyes made his blood pound through his veins. He felt an urge to reach out and smooth back her hair to bring her in for another kiss, one he resisted.

“I care about you,” Rolan told her, before he could lose his nerve. “Our friendship. I respect you, Tav, it’s not worth—muddying things with this.” 

He felt fingers lacing through the ones that hung at his side, and despite his words Rolan tightened his grip automatically. Her hand was so pleasantly cool against the heat of his skin.

“Why do you think I’m here?” Tav answered earnestly. “I care about you, too. If I can help, I want to. Please—”

She was so close to him; Rolan breathed shallowly, but the warm scent rolling off her skin and hair nevertheless swept past him with dizzying force.

“You don’t know what you’re offering,” he managed hoarsely.

She didn’t falter. “Then tell me what else you think I should know.”

His senses were growing clouded with her; the offer that had tumbled so easily from her rang in his ears. It made the thread of Rolan’s control stretch dangerously taut.

“I won’t be gentle,” he warned. 

His inadvertent shift in tone changed something in the air between them. There was a crackling energy that hadn't been there a second before.

Tav licked her lips as she watched him. “Good.”

Rolan thought he might melt from the heat that spread across his skin. His tail snapped against the mattress behind him. If she moved a step closer, she’d feel how hard he was in his pants.

“Mating bites,” he went on hoarsely. “I’ll mark you. Quite a lot. I’ll try not to draw blood, but…I can’t promise it.”

Tav nodded. “What else?” She asked, encouraging him to go on. 

Rolan swallowed against the embarrassment. But this was important for her to know. “This time for us, it’s all about…reproduction. We become quite virile.” He nearly choked, but there was simply no other way to put it. “For the urges to pass quicker, I need to come in you.”

Tav let out a throaty hum of approval. His cock twitched in his pants at the sound. “That’s fine, I take preventatives—it’s safe.”

They stood looking at each other for another moment. That shivery, electric feeling buzzed in the air around them. Rolan wondered if she could hear the way his heart drummed against his ribs.

Tav leaned in slightly. “Well…” She said, and her wet tongue passed nervously between her lips again.

That taut thread in his chest snapped in two. Rolan crushed her up against him with a whimper. Arms circling around her waist, he nudged a thigh between her legs and firmly ground their hips together.

Tav matched his eagerness. Their lips crashed together; at the back of his mind, he felt her grip cradling under each of his ears. Her fingertips licked like flame against his scalp.

Even through layers of clothing, he could feel the heat of her. Rolan jerked her hips forward harder against his thigh; the swelling length of his cock pressed against her soft, yielding center. Tav dipped her head back from the kiss, arching into him with a moan, and her fingertips laced at the nape of his neck. 

It offered an irresistible angle at the column of her throat. Rolan’s claws raked back in her hair, pulling it to a tight ponytail. Then he tugged firmly, holding her open as his mouth descended on her neck.

He kissed and sucked along the band of muscle from her ear to the curve of her shoulder, then parted his lips to bite down firmly on her soft flesh. 

“Yes,” Tav moaned in approval above him. Her hips rolled into his, grinding herself against the hard cock straining in his pants. Rolan felt her pulse skip against his mouth. Only when he tasted sweet copper did he pull away, laving his tongue over the crimson pin-pricks of his teeth into her skin.

He took only a moment to admire the trail of marks blooming along her neck. Tav was already pulling him in for another kiss. Their lips crashed together with bruising force; her tongue explored, tasting, searching for proof of her blood against his tongue and moaning against him when she found it.

Her scent filled his mind. Without breaking from her mouth, he plucked open the laces of her pants. Rolan slipped his hand under the waistband, beneath her smalls, and slid two fingers to dip down between her legs. Her folds were shining-slick; as he nudged her in circles, a trickle of her arousal rolled down his fingers. She shivered prettily under his touch.

“You’re soaked,” Rolan groaned against her neck. 

“All because of you,” she breathed without hesitation. “Been wanting this, gods, wanting you for months. Your hands on me—cock in me—”

At the words he withdrew his fingers from her impatiently, then sucked them clean. Her sweet taste on his tongue made his cock ache. She scarcely had time to curse at the sight before Rolan gripped both arms around her waist to lift her into him.

With one quick pivot, he landed her down on the bed with his frame pressed into her. Her legs hung off the edge from the hip down, and he used the position to grind the stiff length in his pants against her cleft.

Even fully clothed, it was maddening. He could feel the wet patch between her legs, and when she arched further into him, a primal growl rumbled in his chest. 

Tav’s fingers were brushing at his sides, tugging at the hem of his shirt. “Off,” she panted impatiently.

Rolan tilted back to rip the garment up over his horns, immediately reaching for her own once his was free. He stripped her frantically, ripping her smallclothes in two before he could work them down her thighs.

When she lay bare beneath him, moaning and arching into everywhere he touched, he was overcome with hunger for more of her taste. 

Rolan gripped her hips, dragging her with a jerk to the edge of the bed. With her glistening folds displayed before him, all he could do was drop to his knees and bury his tongue between them.

The sounds she made were like sweet music as he explored her. He sucked and massaged her slit with his tongue, then plunged it as deep within her walls as he could. His eyes rolled back in his head. Her taste surrounded him; his nose brushed her clit as he ate her, further overwhelming his senses with the scent of her arousal.

“Gods, yes, Rolan—” Tav moaned above him as her hands flew to grip each of his horns. She alternately tugged them and arched into his mouth, grinding her clit against his face.

He wanted to hear her say his name like that another thousand times. Rolan curled his tongue against her walls, determined to taste her even deeper, but to no avail. Without his sharp nails, he would have sunk two fingers into her.

Instead, as his mouth left her, the ridged end of his tail looped around to brush over her slit.

“Ah—” Tav gasped from the bed. One of her hands left him to prop up on an elbow to look. 

He watched her face in adoration as his tail slid between her soaked lips, coating itself in a mixture of her arousal and his saliva. Once it was thoroughly wet, he let the heart-shaped tip push experimentally into her.

Whatever hesitation he had evaporated at the way she arched and keened. He pushed in further, inch by inch, hissing in breath at how tight and wet her walls squeezed around him. Rolan felt his cock leaking between his legs at the sight of his tail disappearing into her plush cunt.

“Taking my tail so well,” Rolan praised without thinking, then groaned. “Fuck, Tav, you’re so tight—”

“Don’t stop,” she demanded, breathless.

When he felt the tip brush the limits of her insides, he held it steady as she panted down at him. Her mouth hung open in anticipation as she watched him lean in again for her center.

But instead of landing on her clit, his mouth met with the soft skin of her inner thigh and sucked it firmly between his teeth.

Tav gave a little yelp of pain, but her walls constricted around his tail so hard he moaned against her flesh. He left two more lovely red marks against her thigh before withdrawing his tail from her, leaving only the tip inside her silk.

Then he thrust back into her and took up a forceful rhythm of stretching her open on his tail.

“Fucking gods,” she gasped, gripping both his horns again. He felt her use them as leverage as she bounced her hips down to meet him. 

“Like this, don’t you?” Rolan urged her on, drunk off her desire. “Fucking yourself on my tail—” He leaned down to take another taste of her clit, swirling and sucking as the ridges on his tail dragged more wetness out of her with each thrust.

“Yes,” Tav moaned, shaking under him as his tongue worked over her clit. “Feels so perfect in me, so—ngh—!”

When he flicked the tip of it up inside her, Tav’s words stuttered to incoherence. He felt her inner walls clench and flutter, and repeated the motion over and over with each thrust.

“I’m—oh, oh ohohoh—”

She dissolved into soft cries. The muscles at her core tensed and shuddered as she climaxed against his tongue. Rolan withdrew his tail from her with a slick release, instead clasping his mouth over her to lap down the sweet taste that poured from her. His pants were so wet he was nearly convinced he’d already come, but he felt his cock straining against the fabric just as firmly.

When her thighs collapsed limp to either side, Rolan pushed himself to his feet for a look at her. Tav’s eyes were bright, cheeks flushed with arousal, her hair coiled out in wild tendrils that framed her like a crown. Their eyes met; with both hands on his arms, she pulled him down for a kiss.

Rolan landed braced on his forearms. Their tongues slid and pushed together, trading the taste of her release. When he felt her reaching between them to undo his laces, he pulled away to loose them and strip off the rest of his clothes. 

Tav reached for his erection, and before he’d steadied himself, she gripped his length to drag the generous droplets of precum around his tip with her thumb. His hips bucked into her.

“Eager, aren’t you?” She teased softly.

“Yes,” Rolan groaned. Tav’s soft hand was around his cock for the first time; it was all he could do to locate words. He knew his face was flushed and tense with arousal, but Tav only looked up at him with appreciation from where she lay back on his bed. 

When she guided his length across the wet of her core, he rocked his hips to drag his ridges across her. She shivered slightly, still sensitive, but rolled into him.

“Need you,” Rolan panted, not sure whether he was asking her or begging. “Tav—please—”

Tav’s hand lined him up with her entrance. When his leaking tip nudged inside her, Rolan pushed forward with one slow, determined cant of his hips.

The cool slick of her walls clutched each inch of him so perfectly. A low groan rose in Rolan’s throat—this was the closest thing to real satisfaction that he’d gotten in days, and he hadn't even started moving yet.

“So good,” Tav said under him, voice sweet and husky. “Keep going—”

Rolan braced his hands against her hips. He pulled out slowly, legs shaking beneath him, then pushed back into the tight plush of her. 

His hips took up a firm pace, and Rolan couldn't bite back his whines as he plunged his cock inside her. Whatever his fevered imagination had conjured, it was nothing compared to this—he fell over her again, fangs skating against her breast as her body rocked under him with each thrust.

“Yes, yes, fuck—” Tav was just as breathless as her fingers gripped the infernal ridges on his shoulder blades. She tugged, egging him on.

Rolan took the invitation with enthusiasm. He nipped and sucked around the swell of her breast, breathing in lungfuls of the sweetness rolling off her skin.

“Harder,” Tav begged, the words vibrating against his lips. The hunger inside him surged in agreement.

Rolan’s lips fastened over one nipple. He sucked, hard, letting his tongue roll her against his teeth. Tav let out a whimper, but he felt her legs crossing around his hips as he continued to bury himself in her.

Rolan pulled away to look at her face. A mist of sweat dusted her brow; Tav’s lips were parted and twitching with silent words. 

“Look at me,” Rolan ordered, still filling her with his cock in a steady rhythm.

Tav obeyed, her eyes shining and pupils blown wide. He straightened away from her, never breaking, and laid a hand each on her calves. Then he pushed up, folding her legs to her chest and opening up her cunt even deeper for him.

“You look so beautiful like this, Tav,” he told her, thighs trembling with the effort of keeping his pace slow and steady. “Folded in half in my bed. Stretched around my cock so perfectly.”

In response, Tav’s hands grabbed her knees, pulling herself open even further to each side. “Is this how you imagined it?” She asked wickedly. “All alone—wishing it was me and not your own hand—”

Heat prickled across his neck and shoulders, but Rolan was too far gone to feel shame. He couldn't resist breaking eye contact, however, watching the way his cock stretched open her dripping cunt.

“Just like this,” he panted in answer. She took in breath to respond, but he was already slamming back into her at a reckless pace.

The lewd, wet sounds of his thrusts filled the room, layered with their chorus of whines and moans. Rolan shuddered at how slick and tight she was around him, perfectly gripping each inch of his needy length. His cock throbbed in anticipation of a satisfying release, finally, after all these times of not quite enough—

“I’m close,” he panted, gripping her hips to pull her down deeper onto his cock. The tip of him nudged against the limits of her walls. “Where should—”

“Inside,” Tav insisted, still holding herself wide for him. “Only inside, Rolan, want you to fill me up—fuck—”

The imagery pushed him over the edge, and he did just that. With a throb of release, he felt his cock pulsing and filling her deepest walls with his seed. His hips stuttered into her as he pushed his spend as far into her as he could reach.

Tav clutched his shoulders as he came, humming and moaning out praises for him. Their hips rocked together, nudging his coated length back against her deep center. 

Tav went tense under him. He forced his eyes open and saw her lips parted in surprise.

“I’m—oh—!” 

She gasped in shock as her own climax gripped her. Rolan hissed in breath at the way she clenched and fluttered so suddenly around him. His length was still hard, and his ridges pulsed against her.

As she drifted back down, Tav’s eyes finally lit on him in a daze. “What…what was that?”

Rolan was abruptly reminded of how many ruts he’d spent without a partner. “I'm sorry, I should've warned you,” he confessed. It was hard to form his thoughts while still inside her. “During the cycle…infernal traits get stronger. Like incubi. Helps attract a partner.” Somehow this explanation was more embarrassing than any of the other filth he’d just spoken to her.

Tav stared up at him. “You're saying your come is going to make me come?”

“Essentially.” Rolan shifted inside her slightly, still not confident he was done. “I apologize—I didn't think to tell you. Is that a problem?”

“Rolan—” Tav let out a breathless laugh, and the sound went straight to his chest. “This is the exact opposite of a problem. Just a bit of a shock, that's all.”

The lovely sight of her happy and satisfied under him was too much to resist. Rolan leaned forward on his arms to kiss her, trapping her legs between their chests.

As her hand stroked softly under his jaw, Rolan felt a second ache settling in his loins. He released her lips for just long enough to push her legs out over his hips, then ducked back down for her mouth.

He rolled his hips into her slower this time, but it was somehow more intense. Their lips stayed connected as he drove into her deep. Her walls were slippery with arousal and his own seed, and they gripped like pure silk around his cock. Her opening slid over the sensitive ridges at his base with each thrust.

When he dipped a thumb between their bodies to rub circles over her clit, Tav broke away with a little gasp.

“I can’t again,” she said, panting.

“You can,” he told her simply. “Hold on to me—” 

She did, wrapping both arms and legs firmly around him as if he was her anchor. Rolan dipped his head to her neck as he doubled his pace, their hips slotting together with each brisk slide into her. He breathed deep against the curve of her shoulder.

Still so hungry for release, it wasn't long before he came again hard. This time he just barely pumped his spend into her before he pulled out to look down.

Sticky white seed dribbled out of her slit, running down toward her hole. He dipped the thumb circling her clit down to swipe it back up across her cunt, painting his come across the bundle of nerves at her peak.

Tav’s thighs twitched under him, and she gripped his arm tight with one hand. She swore as he continued flicking across her clit with the wet pad of his thumb, then whined out his name.

While her next orgasm nearly doubled her in half, Rolan tilted his head to watch the sight between her legs. She was soaked, twitching, utterly intoxicating. Her contracting walls pushed more of his spend out of her; it flowed generously from her slit and soaked down into the bedding below.

Finding himself now utterly spent, Rolan collapsed on his back next to her. As he did, he realized his legs had grown fatigued to the point of buckling from the exertions. He let his body sink heavy into the mattress. 

“I made a mess on your sheets,” Tav panted from beside him. 

Rolan groaned at her descriptive language. The fact that his length continued softening was a sign his urges were finally giving him a reprieve, however. “It was mostly my fault.”

She only let out a weak breath of laughter.

Too tired to trust his shaking legs, he reached an arm blind over the side of the bed and snatched up the first fabric it touched. His discarded shirt.

Pushing himself seated, he gently reached to dry between Tav’s legs. One of her hands traced the ridges on his back as he quietly tended to her.

“How long before the next?” She asked him.

“An hour or two.” Rolan didn't look at her. “Tav, you've done more than enough for m—”

The mattress shifted as she sat up and turned his face into a waiting kiss. It was soft, just a chorus of little presses across his lips.

When Tav pulled away, she tucked the damp curtain of his hair behind one ear. “Rolan, unless you want me to go, I'm staying until it’s over.”

Rolan cast a glance over her. Despite the fact that she was naked in his bed and covered in blooming bruises from his mouth, she was very much the same Tav as ever. “Thank you,” he told her quietly.

She pushed him onto his back with a sudden laugh, landing with her chest pressed to his. “What an utterly Rolan thing to say,” she mused. “Need I remind you I just came three times?”

Tav was teasing him, and was of a mind to put her in her place—only he found that none of his limbs wanted to move at the moment. Instead, his only response was a deep hum as his eyelids drooped shut.

He felt the mattress shift as she rose and wished he could reach out to stop her. But a moment later she curled up next to him again, dragging a soft quilt over their bodies. 

Rolan turned inward to rest his head on Tav’s chest—and fell into his first real slumber in days.

[reiderwriter]

🍷 Alcohol Free 🍷

Week 1 of my Playlist series! Inspired by Alcohol Free by TWICE.

Summary: You're the designated driver for half of your friends, and Spencer is the designated driver for the other half, so why do you feel so buzzed when you're around him? OR; taking every opportunity when you finally meet Spencer Reid for the first time ♡

Warnings: fluff, mentions of alcohol consumption, but reader and Spencer are both sober. A/N: Welcome to week 1 of the Playlist! I think we started with an absolute banger, and for such a fun, upbeat song with this, I had to make this a fluff (sorry to all my smut and angst enjoyed, please be patient 🫡). I hope you enjoy it! Don't forget to send me more song recs, as I'll be writing one follower chosen song fic per month 🥳

Check out my masterlist here~

“How much have you had to drink exactly, Pen?” You laugh as you watch her wobble back and forth, at her table.

“We started with champagne and wine. And then there was the cocktail round, so, a few margaritas here and there. And a mojito. Maybe a mimosa. I think a guy bought me a pint colada at the bar earlier,” her words were so sharp you almost couldn't believe she'd drank anything at all, but the fact that she said all this while swaying gently from side to side had you giggling at her antics.

“Don't forget the tequila!” Penelope's friend Emily groaned from the other side of the table then were gathered at, face already flat on the surface as if her hangover had already hit.

You'd been friends with Penelope for over a year now, so you were acquainted with all of the girls there, and had agreed to come and meet them on one of their girls nights out. You were never a big drinker though, so you offered to be the designated driver for the half of the gang that were committed to Uber-ing home.

They'd been drinking since the mid afternoon, and by the time you'd gotten off work and cleaned up for the bar, it was obvious that they were going to be a handful.

“Y/N, YOU'RE REALLY PRETTY, YOU KNOW THAT RIGHT?” JJ shouted from her seat beside you.

“Thank you, JJ, you already said that three times tonight. Maybe we should get you some water?”

“And so kind too, my princess in shining armour,” Penelope giggled.

For most people, being the only sober person on a night out was hell, but you found yourself enjoying it more and more as the years went by. Drunk women were so much like kindergarteners when they reaches a certain blood alcohol level, and you loved seeing what your usually serious and cool girlfriends would come up with.

You also wanted to make sure they stayed safe, and with the impressive list of multiple alcohols they'd just ingested, you wondered if you should be carting them off to the emergency room then and there.

“I THINK YOU'D LIKE MY FRIEND SPENCER. HE'S NERDY. YOU'D MAKE CUTE BABIES.” JJ was still shouting all of her words, despite the bar being relatively quiet and you almost did a spit take with your water as she kept on.

“Stop trying to marry Spence off, Jennifer.” Penelope giggled, over pronouncing JJ's name as if it were her first time ever using the word.

You'd heard a lot about this Spencer Reid since you'd become close with the girls at the table, and honestly, you were happy that JJ deemed you good enough for their Spencer.

From the sounds of it, all three of them nagged at him like elder sisters who found him endearingly annoying, and were fiercely protective of him. It made you curious.

“Are you seeing anyone, Y/N?” Emily asked, finally lifting her head up slightly, but in a way that made it look like it weighed 500 lbs more than usual.

“I'm not.”

“Why? You're smoking. Half the men in here have been circling your like sharks for the hour you've been here.” You laughed at that and pushed a bottle of water in Emily's direction again, encouraging her to take small sips of water.

“I'm being serious! I may be drunk beyond belief but this is a sober thought.”

“Emily, I love you, but none of these men are interested in me. I'm practically a spinster. I'm 27, I have no money and no prospects, yada yada, already a burden to my parents.”

“That was something nerdy, I know that was something nerdy, my Spencie Senses are tingling,” she quipped.

And as if right on cue, a quiet voice popped up from behind you and all the hairs on your neck stood on edge as it happened.

“It's a quote from the 2005 Pride and Prejudice movie, so it's not really all that nerdy, Emily.” You turned, slightly startled in your seat as you finally met the elusive Doctor Spencer Reid.

“SPENCE!” JJ cheered, and the other girls similarly whooped at his entrance. They were overjoyed, but you were slightly overwhelmed, because not once in their descriptions of Spencer Reid had they ever told you that he was quite possibly one of the hottest men to ever grace this good Earth.

His hair was slightly curly, a mess of waves flopping into his eyes, but shorter on the sides, highlighting his sculpted jaw. He was tall, on the lean side and craning your neck to look up at him was a happy experience to say the least.

He greeted his friends and looked down to you, and you felt all the blood suddenly rush to your brain when your eyes locked. Dear God.

“Spencer, this is Y/N, my wonderful, gorgeous, single and attractive friend. Say hello, Spencer.”

“Hello,” he gladly followed the instructions Penelope gave him, and you practically giggled at the sound of his voice. Giggled.

“Hello. I'm the wonderful, gorgeous, attractive Y/N,” you waved at him slightly, but your brain wouldn't stop thumping around as you enjoyed the sight of the man.

“Penelope actually told me about you before. You're working at the indie bookstore near Café Density, right? Castle Books? I got a first edition of T.S. Eliot’s Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats there a few months ago.”

“You!” You gasped the word, as a garage of words fell from your mouth in a stream. “You bastard, I was saving for months to buy that thing, and three days before my paycheck I turn up and it was gone! Oh my god, how does it smell? Are the pages mustard yellow or still A little white? They never let me touch it because I almost burst into tears every time I got close.”

To your astonishment, he didn't recoil from your spitfire speech, but laughed happily.

“It's great, the illustrations are amazing. I didn't know someone else had their eye on it when I went in, I'm sorry.”

“Don't apologise for finding treasure. You'd be a horrible pirate if you did that.” You brain really wasn't connected with your mouth anymore and you resisted the urge to turn and bolt away from the discussion.

“Thank you? I'm not a pirate, but I think that was a compliment.”

“See, nerds made in heaven, JJ was right.” The panic built up again slightly and you were sure your brain was going to explode with all the heat that was flooding to your face.

“What's JJ right about?” Reid inquired, and you almost grasped your chest to stop your heart from beating out of it when he cocked his head to the side.

You hadn't had a lick of alcohol the entire night, and yet you're entire body was reacting like it was drunk on Spencer Reid.

“Oh just that you and Y/N here would make beautiful-”

“BEAUTIFUL CONVERSATIONS HAPPEN.” You quickly cut Penelope off, sending her a warning look that was less subtle than just straight up telling her to shut her mouth.

“Can we go now?” Emily dropped her head to the table again as she threw out the words, looking suddenly three shades greener than she was a moment before. “I think that last shot was the drink that broke the camel's liver, and I'm the camel.”

You passed her the water again and slowly started to help your friends gently gather their things, noticing that Spencer was doing the same.

No wonder these girls were so protective of him if this is how well he treats them. He was their coworker, but he would have absolutely been confused for a filial son for any of the three women as he helped them each.

“Where do you live, Y/N?” He asked casually as you both helped the women out of the bar and into the fresh air. “My car is a bit small, but we can throw these three in the back together and they'll mostly sleep until they get back to their homes.”

“Oh no, you don't have to do that, I can go by myself-”

“I can't let a drunk woman go home by herself, Penelope would give me hell in the morning.” This earned a few giggles from the women beside you. You thought you heard Emily mumbling “some profiler he is,” under her breath as well.

You hesitated. You should've been explaining that you hadn't had anything to drink yet, that you actually drove here yourself and that your car was likely parked right by his. You should've offered to take at least one woman off his hands for the night to share the burden of making sure your friends didn't die.

But it was true that each of the women was likely to completely pass out when they got into the car, like newborns being rocked to sleep by their mothers. And that left Spencer Reid free for conversation.

“Thank you, that would be really nice, actually,” you smiled and followed the man to his car, lugging your wonderfully buzzed friends behind you.

[moon-rivr]

Hey, I’m not sure if you’re open or not, but I have a request that I thought would be hot!

So Miguel x vigilante! Reader. She’s not a hero, but if Miguel needs her then she will help him (is very opposed to it but does it because they used to be friends). Sometimes the two of them will fight, but they would never somehow hurt each other badly.

But one day she gets hurt by some arrogant hero (idk who, maybe a variant of cat woman or smth) and Mig gets PISSED! Like he grabs reader and looks at the other hero as if he was about to commit mass homicide.

And he takes care of reader, but he begins to get Dark! Cause he will not let her leave his house, he treats her like a godddess, will spoil her (idk) but then he will not allow her to call anyone. She also finds out that he called into her work and said that she will no longer be working there. And one day he comes back home and straight up proposes to her, saying how he wants her to be his wife and be his forever. He also begins to start saying how he knows that she likes the thought of him torturing others for her etc etc.

Thank you so so much!!! ~ ☀️

only one you need

pairing: miguel o’hara x vigilante fem reader

contents: some yandere themes, spanking, slapping (once), choking, unprotected p in v, breeding kink, degrading, orgasm denial, smidge of lore (not too important)

author’s note: i hope you enjoy and thank you for being patient with me <33 (i hope i didn’t mess this up 😓)

word count: 3.4K

You weren't a hero by any means. You were the Robin Hood of your community, stealing from the rich and powerful to redistribute amongst yourself and your community. The only thing that motivated you to continue taking beatings regularly was the fact that you knew you would starve if you didn't. Your job paid decent, though it wasn't nearly enough to cover your expenses living in Nueva York along with the cost of food.

You were heading back home after stopping a mob deal when you heard the watch in your pocket go off. It'd been weeks of radio silence and you'd assumed that Miguel simply found someone else to work with. While the two of you constantly butted heads over what methods to deal with your opponents, he was very dedicated to his work which made him tolerable to work with. You also had a preference towards helping him given that you cherished the friendship you had with him. The text simply told you to meet him at Earth-65, that it was an urgent matter to be dealt with.

The earth wasn't too different from the other ones you've encountered, though the streets seemed to be more empty than usual. You went up to the Empire State Building, a constant meeting spot in the worlds that you visited. "Hey Spider-Man, what's up?" You asked him, seeing that he was sitting at the ledge. "Took you long enough," he told you, pressing some buttons on his gizmo and his mask dissipated. You rolled your eyes, sitting down next to him as you waited for a brief of what you'd be doing here. "I called you over because of a villain here," he told you, glancing at you through the corner of his eye. "Ask me for my help with a ‘please’ and I might consider it."

He looked around like he was worried of someone overhearing before he turned to look at you. "Pretty please help me with this," he said, though you weren't expecting him to actually comply. "Okay, what's up with this villain?" You asked him and he stayed quiet for a moment as his lips pursed. "Basically the Kingpin from this dimension wants to repeat what the one from Earth-1610 did," he finally spoke up and you couldn't help but let out a laugh.

"So why not use the same strategy as last time?" You asked him and he let out a small growl at the mention of what happened. "That ended up in more harm than good if you don't recall and this Kingpin's working with the Hand. Apparently they're skilled ninjas or something like that, right up your alley," he responded and your brows furrowed in recognition. "Doesn't Daredevil usually deal with them in every universe?" You inquired, looking up at him. "Daredevil is Kingpin here."

You and Miguel discussed some strategies on how to deal with your little problem when you felt a gush of wind zoom right past you. Before you two had a chance to attack, the two of you found yourselves tied up in a rope. Your attacker came into view, resulting in none other than Felicia Hardy, and she came in close to analyze the two of you. "Well, you're much more handsome than the usual Spider-Man," she purred, stroking Miguel's cheek as she spoke. "Kingpin wanted me to send his regards, though he doesn't appreciate you two trying to stop him," she continued, stepping back once she finished with her observations. "Seems counterintuitive to help out the man who killed your father," Miguel spoke up, letting out a scoff.

Felicia’s eyes darkened for a moment before they returned back to normal, a smirk on her face. "I don't do things that don't benefit me," she simply said, looking down at the two of you. "So, do you choose to take the warning or continue with this little strategy of yours? The Hand will never let you even two inches close to him," she inquired, tapping her foot on the floor. Miguel took the chance to unsheath his claws, the rope falling on the floor. Felicia whistled, a circle of ninjas surrounding the two of you.

The two of you split up, defending yourselves against the Hand, while Felicia watched idly by the side. You got on top of her, planning to tie her up and ended up getting punched on the nose. You recoiled, your defenses weakened when you felt a sharp sting in your stomach. You looked down to see that one of the ninjas stuck a katana in you, the blood starting to pool on the floor. Miguel pulled the ninja off you and grabbed Felicia by her neck, dangling her as he picked her up. His talons unsheathed at his sides, a small growl coming up his throat as he opened his mouth, fangs ready to attack her.

"Miguel!" You screamed, holding your stomach as you tried to control the bleeding. You looked up to see Felicia, the fear evident in her eyes even though her stoic expression didn't show it. You couldn't help but feel a bit of guilty as you saw her for what she was in that moment. She was willing to do anything to get her father back, even work with the man that scorned her. Miguel turned to look at you, his eyes softening and his talons retreating as he set down felicia. Your vision began spotting up, and the only thing you felt was Miguel's arms helping you up before you passed out.

You woke up with the sun shining in through the curtains in a unfamiliar room before the events from earlier came back to you. You looked down to your stomach and realized that the stab wound was mostly healed, minimal scarring visible. You looked over to see Miguel walking in, holding a pill with a glass of water. "You finally woke up, how are you feeling?" He asked, handing you the pill and water. "Just a little pain. How long have i been out for?" You inquired, putting the pill in your mouth before gulping down the water. "You've been out for almost a week."

"Thank you for taking care of me, but I have to get back to my universe. I'm sure my job won't let me spend me any more time off," you told him once you finished up with the water, wiping your mouth. "You don't have to worry about that anymore, I called them to tell that you wouldn't be coming in anymore," he responded eerily calm and your eyes narrowed.

"Why would you do that, Miguel?"

"Because you don't have to worry about your financial situation anymore. You'll be staying here with me and I'll be taking care of you."

"But what about the people in my neighborhood?"

"I'll take care of their necessities."

You took a couple seconds to consider what he was telling you before nodding. "Okay, sure," you responded, folding your arms awkwardly. The concept was foreign to you, of having to depend on someone else for your financial needs. You'd been working to provide for yourself since you were able to, though you lived very minimally. "Did you manage to get Kingpin?" You asked, looking over at him. "I did, I got some of the other members from the Society to help me. I'm sorry for putting you in danger. The last thing i wanted was for you to get hurt," he responds, rubbing the side of his neck.

"It was just a little cut, I’ll be fine," you tried to downplay the situation, despite the fact that you felt a pain every time you moved. "I'll take care of you while you heal, okay?" He reassured you, kissing your forehead before he walked out of the room. You sat down on the bed as you tried to wrap your head around the situation, that you'd never have to work again or have to settle for the minimum. You began to accept the idea the more you thought about it even if you weren't too sure why Miguel was doing all this for you.

"Hey, Miguel? Why're you doing all this for me?" You asked him when you came out to the kitchen, seeing that Miguel was cooking something up for the both of you. "I care about you, even if I haven't really shown it through my actions. You're the only person I can really tolerate being around for extended periods of time," he responded, looking over at you as he set down the spoon. You helped him out by chopping some of the vegetables, glancing at him through the corner of your eye. “I took the opportunity to go to your universe to bring back some of your clothes. I hope you don't mind knowing that I went through your closet," he told you as he poured in the chopped vegetables in the soup he was making. "I don't mind, thank you for that," you responded, looking through the cabinets for some spices.

You felt your breath hitch as Miguel moved behind you, reaching towards the cabinet above you. He placed his hand on your hip for a split second as he grabbed the spices, pulling them out. You missed the touch as soon as he walked away, going towards the oven once more. You watched as he cooked, pouring in the oregano and thyme, keeping his eye on the container to not pour in too much. You excused yourself from the kitchen, going back into the bedroom.

You called one of the girls you'd been helping back in your universe, hoping that she'd been doing well in your absence. "What are you doing?" You heard from behind you, Miguel coming into the room. "I'm trying to call one of the people I used to help out back home, see how she's doing," you responded, looking back at him. He grabbed the phone from you, hanging up before sticking it in his pocket. "No more of that. The only person you need to talk to is me. I'm the only person that you need," he told you, holding up your chin as he spoke. "But I’m worried about her, Miguel," you tried to defend yourself but he wasn't budging on the subject. "I'll go check up on her tomorrow if that's important to you. But you won't be talking to anyone else. Like I told you, I’m the only person that you need."

Even though you should've ran for the hills after he told you that, you didn't mind only being with him and only spending time with him. He'd even given you an Amex card, telling you to spend whatever you want to your heart's content. Needless to say, your wardrobe ended up expanding into luxurious items and you bought more expensive jewelry. Miguel often told you how much he liked seeing you spend his money, how much he liked seeing you glammed up and just because of him.

Your relationship with Miguel continued to grow throughout the following weeks, the two of you ended up having dinners together and doing activities in the house. Though you had a longing to spend time with other people, you could appreciate that Miguel let you keep the interdimensional watch.

Miguel arrived from work late at night, his eyebags prominent as he stepped out of the portal. "Hey, how'd it go today?" you asked him, walking up to him to wrap your hands around him. "It was okay. I'm gonna go change into something comfortable and I'll join you for dinner," he told you, dipping his head to kiss your forehead. He walked away, retreating back to the bedroom to get changed and you headed into the kitchen. You served a plate for you both and set them down on the table, sitting down as you waited for him to come out.

Dinner had gone as usual, mostly just talking about what you'd done inside the house and him talking about what kind of creatures he'd encountered. Though you felt some sort of longing at being able to go to the streets and fight again, you couldn't help but wonder if your efforts were all just in vain after all. That no matter how much you gave it your all in the fights that you had, it wouldn't matter in the end and that made it easier to make yourself more comfortable just staying with Miguel. You were about to head upstairs after finishing up the dishes to get ready for bed before you were stopped by him calling out your name.

You turned around to see miguel on one knee and all the air in your lungs escaped as you saw the box he was holding. "Will you marry me?" The request was simple but his face told you that everything about the gesture was not. You could see the love that he held for you as he looked up at you and you couldn't help the tears that rolled down your cheek. You nodded quickly and went over to kiss him, rubbing the tears away from your cheeks. "I'd love to marry you, Miguel."

The union was at Miguel's house and the only people present were the priest and Peter B. Parker to authenticate the wedding. You had on a beautiful floor-length white dress while Miguel had on a black tux, the material fitting him snugly. "You may now kiss the bride," the priest told the both of you after the vows were done and Miguel placed his his hands on your hips as he kissed you. The priest left a couple minutes after that and Miguel headed upstairs to get the nice whiskey out.

You took the opportunity to make conversation with Peter, wanting to know more about his close friend. You were in the middle of discussing what Miguel was like at work with him when Miguel grabbed your arm, pulling you behind him. "I think it's time for you to leave, Peter. Me and my wife have some talking to do," he told him, his voice eerily calm despite how much his back had tensed up as he spoke. Peter congratulated the two of you once more before he left the house and Miguel turned to look at you, his eyes narrowed. "Run."

You felt your heart thumping as you hid underneath the bed and the only thing you could do was listen to Miguel's taunting calls. "Where are you, conejita? Don't you wanna come out and play?" He purred, his voice echoing throughout the empty house. (bunny) Miguel came into the bedroom, his footsteps shuffling around as he opened up the closet door and peeked inside before shutting the door. You let out a sigh of relief but that relief was short lived when your legs were pulled back, forcing you out of your hiding spot.

"Do you know what you did wrong, mi amor?" He asked you, his tone condescending as he held a firm grip on your chin. "I talked to Peter when I shouldn't have, I'm sorry," you replied, your eyes drifting towards the ground in shame. "Aht, none of that. Look at me," he ordered and you complied, looking up at him. "Tell me conejita, what do you think the adequate punishment for that is?" He inquired, his voice husky as he sat down on the bed, bringing you down onto his lap. Your throat bobbed as your mind ran blank and Miguel couldn't help but let out a small chuckle. "You shouldn't have left it up to me, muñeca." (doll)

You let out a whine as his hand met the plush skin of your ass once more, the skin stinging from the amount of times he'd done this. "Count or we're starting over from zero," he told you as tears ran down your cheeks. "Ten!" You whined out, your pussy clenching against nothing as your juices coated his pant leg. "Can't even punish you because you end up liking it like the slut you are," he hissed, bringing his hand up to slap your other ass cheek. The two of you kept this up until he reached twenty and he looked down at you, his brows furrowing. "What's the color?" He asked, his voice taking on a light tone despite what he'd just done. "Green," you responded, getting up from the bed before Miguel took you in his arms with ease.

You were laid down on your back as Miguel took off his pants, the tip of his cock red as it glistened with precum. You spread your legs instinctively and he started to insert his cock in slowly, making sure to give you some time to adjust before he got started. Soon enough, his hips were snapping against yours with every thrust that he took and his hand went up to your neck, squeezing gently. "The only one you need and will ever need is me, understood?" He told you as he continued to abuse your cunt with his cock. You struggled to form words in your head so you moaned out in approval, only being met with Miguel's hand slapping across your cheek. "I need a verbal response, conejita," he told you, his hand returning back to the spot around your neck. "Y-Yes!" Your voice came out garbled as you try to conjure up the words and let out a soft hum in approval before he placed your legs against your chest.

"I think you like knowing that I would kill anyone for you. That I wouldn't let anything happen to you, mi amor," he told you, his voice coming out strained as your walls squeezed around his cock. The headboard slammed against the wall as he continued to thrust deep into you, his pace never faltering. You felt your orgasm approaching you quickly and your moans got louder, your hands gripping the bedsheets. The sweet euphoria of the orgasm never came, though, because Miguel pulled out his cock right as you were about to approach your peak. "You really think you can cum with that little stunt you just pulled?" He asked you, letting out a laugh before you had a chance to protest.

He pushed his cock inside of you once more in a swift motion, your hands gripping his forearms as he continued. "Please! Make me cum, Mig!" You pleaded, tears rolling down your cheeks. He leaned down, licking away your tears as he let out a small chuckle. "I will, princesa. You'll be begging me to stop by the time this is over," he responded, his hands on your hips as he pushed in deeper and faster. "You'll be so pretty when you're full of my cum. That's all you're meant to be, my pretty little wife and the bearer of my kids. Those tits full of milk and everybody will know just who you belong to," he told you, his hand coming down on your clit as he rubbed small, sloppy circles on your clit.

Luckily enough, he let you cum this time and your releases coated his shaft, providing him enough lubrication to slide in easily. He came soon after as he felt your walls squeeze his cock dry, his cum coating your walls completely. You'd expected him to stop right there but he continued to thrust inside of you, keeping that same pace from before. "I told you, you'd be asking me to stop by the time this is over," he told you with a smirk, bending down to kiss you as he placed your legs over his shoulders.

You were unsure of how many times you'd came by the time the night was over and all the thoughts in your brain had been turned into mush. Miguel pulled out his softening cock out of you, your plush walls stuffed with his cum after his multiple orgasms. He grabbed a cloth from the bathroom, cleaning you up gently so to not give you any more stimulation. He held you close to him as you came down from your orgasms, your breath returning back to normal. "Did I go too far?" He asked you gently, his hand rubbing small circles on your back. "No, it's okay," you assured him, pressing a small kiss on his cheek. "Te amo, esposa. Nunca te quiero perder." (i love you, wife. i never want to lose you)

[allysunny]

If you said your requests are open… I know this is silly but JEALOUS MIGUEL

Dude gets annoyed if Y/N talks abt someone else (Ben Reilly, Peter B, some other spider people orsome of her friends back in her world) fondly and even LYLA called him out on that

Then one time when Y/N was doing that thing where she talks abt someone else in a fond way and Miguel accidentally said smth that reveals his feelings for you 🤭🤭🤭

A Jab of Jealousy | Miguel O'Hara x Spider Fem!Reader

Words: 3.4k

Warnings: Jealous behaviour from Miguel - seriously, he's kind of a stalker in here. He's down bad and whipped and acts like a sulking baby. Mentions of violence, but it's for comedical effect. Peter B. is a menace. Perhaps OOC Miguel? If there's anything I missed, please let me know!

A/N: Hey guys!! Hello!! It's me again! Gosh, it's been kinda long since the last update. I'm very sorry, but as I mentioned, I'm super busy with university, and am trying to juggle everything without going absolutely crazy. I hope you guys haven't forgotten about me! Please be patient <3

Anyways, I had a blast writing this! I'd never really written for jealous characters before, so I'm not really sure if this is any good. BUT it was very fun to write a sulking Miguel. He's just so funny, picture a big grumpy cat, upset his owner won't give him any attention, hahaha!

Anyway sweet Anon, I hope this is to your liking! It's a bit shorter than my usual works, so I apologize for that, though. But I hope it meets your expectations!!

Miguel was fuming. So much, that he could probably fry an egg on his head. In fact, Lyla had expressed a desire to do so. If only she had a physical form, she thought.

But since frying eggs on top of her boss’s head wasn’t an option, she simply chose to watch as he dug his own grave over and over again, acting like a complete moron.

It’s not like she wasn’t amused – but there is only so much she could say when Miguel sulked because you’d given someone else your attention without making him upset and causing a “I am not jealous” rant to happen.

Lyla did not want that.

Lyla knew better than to prompt that conversation.

More people should be like Lyla – namely Peter B., who’d caught onto Miguel’s little act rather early on. But the brunet couldn’t help it – pissing off Miguel was a hilarious past time, and he loved to push his buttons. He wondered how long it would take for him to finally admit his feelings for you.

Thing was, Miguel had a soft spot for you.

A very soft spot for you.

A “I can’t listen to any of these idiots talk, but as soon as you start a conversation, he’ll tell everyone to shut up so he’ll listen” soft spot for you.

A “I do not want to see anyone, leave me alone you insufferable brats, but if you walk into his office, he’ll pull up a chair and let you keep him company” soft spot for you.

A “I can’t believe you guys disgraced your mission and were unable to contain the anomaly, it is unacceptable, unless it’s you because then it’s only a ‘common mistake’” soft spot for you.

A “I’m Mr. Grumpy and Annoyed and spend my whole days sulking, but if you walk through that door, I’ll light up like a Christmas tree” soft spot for you.

A “this is the last empanada in the cafeteria, and I really want to eat, but you seem to be starving, so please have it, I don’t want you passing out on me” soft spot for you.

A “I’m not jealous, how dare you, but if I see you talking to someone else, I will most likely punch a wall (and destroy it in consequence)” soft spot for you.

Yeah.

Miguel was down bad.

But he’d never admit it to anyone – let alone himself.

He’d simply sulk in a corner, muttering about how “Ben isn’t really that interesting, and he doesn’t really need help, he’s just dramatic and needs to grow up”. Or something of the sort.

Right now, he was watching as you casually conversed with Peter B. The two of you were sitting next to each other, munching on some spider themed burgers for lunch and catching up. Mayday was contentedly eating her own burger, cheddar sauce smeared all over her face and coating her hands. 

Peter must’ve made the greatest fucking joke ever, because you bent over the table, laughing like a maniac. Miguel loved your laughter - so carefree, so unapologetically you. You wiped some tears from your eyes, still giggling. You reached out and touched his arm, which made Peter smile, and Miguel frown. 

Why’d you be touching his arm? Were you two that close? Sure, you were friendly with everyone, but were you this touchy? You’d never touched him. Did you only do that to your close friends? Did you perhaps want something more with Peter? Well, Peter was a married man. And a loyal one at that - he wouldn’t leave Mary Jane. Why would you go for a married man?

Miguel was single. Why not go for someone single?

“Oh Peter - never change!” you exclaimed with a bright smile that could’ve lit up the whole Spider Society. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go take care of some reports for the big guy.” 

The Big Guy? Who the hell is the big guy?

“Ah, yes. Don’t want him to throw a table at you, do we?” Peter joked.

A table? 

Miguel had only done that once. 

And it was deserved.

Were you talking about him?

“Don’t be like that -” your voice quickly interrupted Peter’s. “He threw a table at you because you’d been slacking off. You let that Doc Ock anomaly escape. He’s not normally like that.”

Precisely. 

Oh.

You were defending him.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m sure he’s not. Off you go, you busy bee!”

“Give MJ my love - I can’t wait to try her casserole. Tell her I’ll bring the pizza rolls, I promised I’d give her my recipe.” You placed a delicate kiss on top of Mayday’s red mane (to which she giggled and reached out her arms towards you - Miguel wondered if you were this naturally good with kids, or if it was just the younger B. Parker that made everyone act like this) and walked away.

Peter smiled to himself, ruffled his kid’s hair, and then looked straight at Miguel, giving him a knowing look from across the cafeteria. He nudged his head towards your figure, and wiggled his eyebrows, mouthing “Jealous?”

Miguel sulked even more, finishing his burger in one whole bite.

Jealous. As if he was jealous. 

The next time something like this happened, Miguel had been doing some research on the Spider Library. It was a fascinating place, really - Spiders from every earth would donate books from their homeland. There were books on just about everything, from Victorian etiquette to small Lego blocks Lego Spiderman would swear to be books (a claim Miguel has never once doubted, for the little guy was one of his most trusted allies). 

He’d been looking through a few cookbooks (Because even Spider People deserve to learn how to cook), looking for casserole recipes. He convinced himself it was simply a way for him to eat a more balanced meal, for him not to eat at the cafeteria every single day - not that there was anything wrong with it, but he sometimes longed for the warmth of a homemade meal. 

“Noir!” your voice cut through the silence, and Miguel caught a glimpse of you chastising yourself for speaking so loudly in a space meant to be relaxing and quiet. “Sorry,” you whispered with a small giggle, before turning to the black and white character. 

You conversed happily, feet tugged under your body as you relaxed on one of the library’s comfiest chairs. The cookbook long forgotten; Miguel was now busy watching you. The way the corners of your lips titled up whenever Spider Noir said something that pleased you, how your hands fidgeted with your hair, twirling it around your fingers or tugging it behind your ear, how your eyes would widen in recognition whenever you deemed the topic good. 

“Stalker much?” Lyla whispered on his ear, making him jump. 

“Mierda! Coño - Lyla - pendeja de una…” He mumbled under his breath, looking around to make sure no one had heard him - unfortunately for him, you had. You looked over in his direction in confusion and gave him a soft smile once your gazes met, as well as a small wave. He retributed, far too stunned to speak, before returning his attention to Lyla. 

“What the hell do you want?” He asked, keeping his voice low and gruff. He hated being interrupted, especially when someone interrupted him while he was looking at you. 

“You do know this whole ‘Watching her from the shadows’ thing is getting sort of old, right? And it’s real creepy Miguel, real creepy!” Lyla chimed in, looking at him over the rim of her heart-shaped glasses. She was way too done with him. And with good reason. While it was amusing to watch jealousy eat him up from the inside and watch how smitten he was whenever you walked in, it was also draining, because it meant she was stuck with a big grumpy cat whenever you weren’t near, or whenever you were near someone else. 

“Why don’t you just ask her on a date?” she asked, voice way too exasperated. It wasn’t the first time she suggested this. Nor the second, nor the third. It surely wouldn’t be the last. “Grow a pair of cojones and ask her out. You’re a decent cook - why not cook up something for dinner? She’d like that, I’m sure.” 

“Why would I ask her out?” Miguel grumbled, trying to focus on his book once more. “And why would she say yes? She’s got plenty of friends, of companions. I’m sure she doesn’t lack dinner invitations.” 

Lyla scoffed and rolled her eyes, wishing her boss wasn’t so stubborn. 

“Well, you should ask her about because you’re whipped! Damn it Miguel, it’s becoming really disturbing to have you sulk and pout all day because she didn’t look your way, or smiled too much at someone else. It’s annoying. And you are becoming a stalker. Look at you! You followed her into the library and were watching her!” 

“I was reading!” replied Miguel, trying to keep his voice down but failing - which earned him a few “Shhhhh”s from other dedicated spiders. “Sorry…” he grumbled. “But I was reading. It’s got nothing to do with her.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure, big guy.” If Lyla were to roll her eyes again, they’d probably roll into the back of her head. “Anyway, you have some new reports to catch up on. The new recruits have done a brilliant job, actually. You might want to give those a look.” Miguel sighed and swiftly exited the library, but not before catching your gaze again, and receiving a smile from you. 

Miguel was halfway into reviewing one of the reports Jessica had sent him when he heard a knock on his office’s door. 

“Who is it?” he asked, not particularly thrilled to talk to anyone.

“Oh, it’s me! [Y/N]!” You. [Y/N]. 

Well, his door would always be open for you. 

“Come in,” he said, turning away from his multitude of screens. 

Just be cool. 

It’s not like Lyla was right.

Or Peter. 

They love to tease him - they’re both insufferable and love to annoy him. 

He’s not jealous. 

He’s not possessive or anything. 

“Miguel?” You asked, breaking him out of his trance. “You okay?”

He looked up to meet your kind eyes, and immediately relaxed before them. 

“Yeah,” he nodded, “I’m fine. Sorry, I’m just distracted. Jessica sent me some new reports, and I need to revise all of these before I store them.” It’s funny. Miguel would never admit he was tired. Not to Lyla or anyone else. He wouldn’t even admit it to himself - but you were different. You made him feel safe. He felt like he could confide in you and tell you all that troubles his mind.

“I could help you out, if you wanted to?” You leaned against a desk, shrugging your shoulders. “I mean, I don’t have much on my plate right now. If you want, I could look at them?”

Miguel couldn’t do that.

He couldn’t give someone else his workload, couldn’t trust someone else with such an important task. Should you overlook something, the consequences could be disastrous. Even the tiniest detail could lead up to catastrophic events. That’s why he always took it upon himself to review everything himself, to make sure there were no mistakes.

“I might just take you up on that offer.” 

Huh. 

That’s not what he meant to say. 

No, what he meant to say was, 

“It would be great to have a helping hand.”

No. 

No, actually, abort mission. Abort mission.

Miguel didn’t need help. He was doing fine on his own. He was the only one qualified for such important jobs, and that was why he had to set the record straight and tell you,

“Thank you, [Y/N].”

You smiled brightly at him, one of those smiles reserved for your closest friends alone (at least that’s what he thought, because Miguel had not been stalking you, and most certainly wasn’t aware of the types of smiles you gave people).

But did this mean he was one of your closest friends?

Miguel shook his head at the thought, and you giggled – a cheerful, melodious sound that Miguel didn’t mind hearing more often.

“You know, everyone around HQ keeps saying you’re like this big bad wolf,” you begin, gesturing with your hands, as if painting a picture. “It’s funny because you’re not like that at all! It seems like I’m the only one who sees that, though. Oh, and Peter B.” You chuckled, rolling your eyes. “You see, the other day, we were joking about what kind of animals each one of us would be, and – “ Miguel’s ears blocked out the rest of the line.

Peter B. this, Peter B. that.

How close were you two anyway? And why are you always talking about him?

“ – And then I was like, no, Miguel would totally be a cat, and then Ben just completely faints on the floor in front of us, and we burst out laughing!” You’re doubling over yourself, even going as far as wiping tears from your eyes. “Oh, he may be dramatic, but boy is he funny. You should listen to his impression of Victorian Spider; he’s got it down to a tee! And oh – he can mimic Peter Parkedcar so well, he does this thing with his voice, in which he goes – “

He's not even that funny.

“Huh?” You questioned, looking up from your little rant.

Huh? What “huh”?

Oh. Mierda.

Had he said that out loud?

“I’m just saying, he’s not even that funny. Ben Reilly.” He grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest, and looking away. “I don’t even know why you hang out with him. He steals everyone’s jokes and makes everything about himself. Also, he’s annoying.”

Way to go Miguel. You do not sound a day over four years old. Not at all.

“Well, I find him charming.” You reply sympathetically. “We all have our flaws.”

“Charming. Tch. Sure, if you find crying over his ‘traumatising day’ which probably consists of a spilled Sepsi charming, then sure, he’s the spitting image of a charming gentleman.” Miguel scoffed, still not finding it within himself to look you in the eye.

“That’s just who he is. I mean, you can’t really blame him, that’s probably how his whole Earth is. Oh goodness – could you imagine? A whole earth full of Ben Reillys?” Your eyes widened and you grinned once again, covering your mouth with your hands. “Peter’s always saying –“

“Peter should probably get some adult friends. And doesn’t he have a baby to take care of? I mean, he can’t possibly be bothering everyone around HQ when he’s a father – you must have things to do other than listen to him ramble on and on and on about whatever topic. Dios, he desperately needs a hobby. Doesn’t he have a wife to return to?”

Perhaps Peter B. could arrange some playdates for Miguel and Mayday. Who knows, the two children might get along.

You’re looking at him, mouth agape in a grin. You supress a chuckle and clear your throat, amusement rather obvious in your eyes.

Could Miguel O’Hara, the big bad wolf leader of the Spider Society, be jealous?

“Someone seems to be a bit jealous.” Your remark was accompanied by some sort of smile that was also a smirk. Almost like you were too amused by the situation but were also flattered. Which you were.  

There was that word again.

Jealous.

Miguel ran the word repeatedly in his mind. Could it be he was actually jealous? Was he, perhaps, too possessive of you? You weren’t his. There was no reason for him to feel so protective.

“They’re just friends, you know.” You shrugged, tilting your head. A few strands of hair fell in front of your face, but you made no effort to move them. It gave you a slightly ragged look, and Miguel felt his heart leap in his chest at the sight. “You could hang out with us sometime. I’m sure they’d appreciate it. You’re the boss, I’m sure fraternising’s not against Spider Society rules.”

It was Miguel’s turn to roll his eyes.

“Yeah – right. I’m afraid any conversation I might have with them will reduce my brain capacity. Thank you, but no.” He waved his hand dismissively. It was true. Ben was a focused superhero, that was true, but he could get caught up in his own drama far too quickly. And Peter B… Peter B. was Peter B.

This was getting quite ridiculous.

Here he was, nearly stalking someone, attacking all her friends, and acting like a possessive jerk, all because he was sad said someone wouldn’t look at him, or hang out with him as much. Miguel was a grown ass man, but lately, he’d been acting like a confused teen going through puberty. You deserved quite better. Much better.

He’d dated women before, surely, he could do it again. He’d had nice dates and formulated interesting conversations. He could do all of that again. Without stalking you and following you around like a lost puppy. He could take you out and grant you a night of fun. Treat you nicely. Cook you some dinner, perhaps.

Something ran through Miguel’s mind – a thought he never expected to have – Lyla was right. Maybe it was time to do things like a proper adult instead of pouting and throwing tantrums whenever you looked somewhere else. It wasn’t fair of him to keep acting this way, and especially towards you, who’d done nothing to warrant such a weird treatment. All he hoped for was that you hadn’t noticed his strange demeanour these past few weeks.

“But, well,” he started, trying not to sound like a sulking child, “I surely don’t lose any of my faculties whenever I’m with you. Perhaps you would like to get some coffee sometimes?”

There it was.

An invitation.

(Even if slightly half-assed)

An opportunity to stop being some creepy loser (Peter’s words), and maybe get closer to you.

(It should be noted that Lyla was observing the whole thing, and although she was merely AI, the joy she was feeling was far too big to be considered “synthetic”. She was simply happy her oblivious moron of a boss had finally manned up. She was so proud. It was like watching a baby take his first steps – only in this case, the baby was a 6’9 superhero who could crush a car with his bare hands. She was proud, nevertheless. He was all grown up now.)

Your smiled softened, and you nodded.

“I’d like that. I really would.”

Miguel looked up.

Huh. That’d been surprisingly easy.

And you’d said yes.

“Really?” Were you messing with him? Was Peter going to kick his door down, shove a camera up his face and proclaim he’d been pranked?

“Yeah!” You shrugged, linking your hands behind your back. “I think it’d be fun. I’d really like to go on a date with you.” Your eyes widened. “Unless – I mean, is it a date? It doesn’t have to – I’m sorry, I just assumed – but it really doesn’t have to, and I’d love to get coffee either way!”

You scrambled for words, face heating up by the second, which made Miguel smile. He didn’t do it often, but in your presence? All was possible in your presence. You brought out the best in him.

“Would you like it to be a date?�� Okay, now the ball was on your court. While Miguel had been the one to ask you out, you were the one in charge. If you told him you’d rather meet up as friends, he’d respect your decision. (Maybe stalk you some more with heartbreak in his eyes, but he wasn’t about to say that.)

“I… I’d like that. If it were to be a date, that is – I’d really like that.” You tried to hide the way your fingers fidgeted with each other, but it was far too obvious. And completely okay. Miguel too was nervous.

“Me too.”

You smiled at his words, and Miguel’s smile mirrored your own.

“That’s settled then. It’s a date.”

In the background, Lyla did cartwheels in the air, mentally congratulating her boss.

Miguel’s smile softened and reached his eyes.

Maybe he was jealous.

But he was sure it would work out in the end.

A/N: And that's it! Again, I hope you guys liked it! I'll be working on more requests, and stuff of my own hehe, I can't wait for you guys to see what else is up my sleeve. Thank you and have a wonderful day!!

[satorubi]

NEEDLE N THREAD — FT NANAMI KENTO & FUSHIGURO TOJI

༄ a threesome with your colleagues leads to a very sticky situation.

♱ CW - f! reader, threesomes, big cock nanami and toji, doggy, missionary, double pen, usage of profanity, usage of pet names such as baby/love/sweetheart, use of the word bitch but only once, <> word count - 1.5k <> notes - hi hi, this is a reupload bc there are some opps in the building. pls yall i swear i don’t mean any harm </3 i wrote this in one night & @venusflytrapstar is the one to blame.

toji and nanami were good at their craft.

saving lives daily wasn’t exactly the dream job for some, but to them— it was. there was no better feeling than finishing up a patient, stitching them good as new and seeing them exit the facility with a smile on their face.

and that’s why you adored your colleagues.

toji and nanami had been there since you first began as a pre-med student, already having their lives set at the hospital when you arrived a few years ago. you adored their dedication, work ethic, and abilities just as much as you adored saturday nights.

the nights where not only toji ruptures your insides, but nanami doing the same right after him.

“god-fuckin’ damn, pussy’s so tight. like havin’ both of us fuck you senseless huh?” toji grunts, his cock plummeting into you slowly but deeply as nanami stuck his tongue down your throat.

every time the weekend rolled around, you wondered if it was a dream. to have two handsome men fucking you whenever you asked while also being professional outside of closed doors really got your tummy fluttering. it was something ravenous and exciting about the mischief of it all.

to be such persistent individuals, they were sloppy in bed— fucking you back to back as you mess up the sheets of whoever’s home you’d decided to get pounded at next; this time being nanami’s. the three of you currently having the time of your lives in his living room, ruining his brown leather couch cushions as your pussy contracts around toji’s cock for the second time tonight.

“she’s so pretty— such a slut for us, all for us,” nanami praises, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat making you gag. they were both fucking huge and shoving their cocks into you as if they weren’t was a mix of pleasure and pain, but you wouldn’t rather be anywhere else.

“nurse y/n, who knew you were such a fuckin’ whore? look at how this pussy’s fuckin’ me back. bet you think about us while you’re with patients, huh?” toji teases, his tip repeatedly hitting your gushy spot. nanami picked up speed while fucking your throat, his hands holding both of your cheeks. the gagging and queefing of your pussy and mouth had them both going insane.

sometimes you wondered if this would ever escalate to more. it was against protocol and way outside of the employee handbook, but the dick was just too good to pass up.

“such a fuckin’ goddess. love fuckin’ you, baby.” nanami says, caressing your cheek when he pushes his cock to the back of your throat— you choke, but you take every inch. with a gag, he pulls out of your mouth completely, leaving a string of saliva connecting from his cock to your bottom lips.

not too much. fuck is he callin’ her that for? he thought. to toji, there was no reason to. you were all just friends who fuck— well, at first.

it was at that moment you could feel toji fucking you harder. his rough hands gripped at your ass and rolls as he fucked you from behind, watching you clap back against his pelvis. he could cum right now, but he couldn’t help but to feel a small bit a jealousy bubbling inside of fim.

after multiple months of getting to know you and stretching you out, both toji and nanami could say that they’d never felt this way with anyone before— no one other than you. but that was the thing, they couldn’t both have you, not unless it was like this.

“i..i’m cumming—fuuuck yes! fuck me like that, oh my god,” you moan, not missing the way toji’s pace went from steady to rough. with a few more thrusts, you began to coat him like glaze on a donut as he guided his dick in and out of your hole.

“good girl. you’re a sexy little bitch aren’t ya’ ?” toji mumbles, his palm meeting your ass cheek leaving a sting. you giggle, averting your attention from nanami’s eyes to looking behind you at toji. you reached back and put a hand on his stomach and clawed at it with your nails.

“c’mon, toji. wanna’ feel it all, daddy,” you encourage, hearing an annoyed sigh come from nanami. you swore they acted like two envious school boys when it came down to you.

“shit, cummin’, i’m cummin’ for you, baby. where do ya’ want it babydoll?” all it took was for you to say the words in me to have toji spurting his cum into your belly. from the corner of your eye, you could see nanami roll his tongue on the inside of his cheek, removing his glasses and making his way behind you.

nanami have toji a tap on the shoulder and uttered, “move,” in a low tone.

“the fuck are you gettin’ mad about?” toji questions, slipping his dick out of your pretty little hole that just aches for more dick. nanami said nothing, he only gave toji a rather unpleasant expression. surprisingly, toji didn’t argue. instead, he moved over to the side and allowed the impatient man to take his position behind you.

“someone’s jealous, eh?”

nanami grunts, flipping you over onto your back so he could see your beautifully fucked out face, “fushiguro don’t start with me—“

“kento, don’t forget who fucked her first,” toji winks, making nanami knit his brows— chest heaving up and down with agitation. before it could get too routty, your soft voice could be heard from under them.

“hello? can you both shut the fuck up and fuck me already? geez, you act like children,” you sigh. nanami sends toji one last glare before readjusting his focus on you— the pretty angel who had no idea she was setting their hearts on fire.

“i’m so sorry, darling. forgive me,” he whispers, kissing at your neck before toji stood before you— cock hovering over your face creating a shadow.

“kiss ass,” toji mutters.

the minor setback only had your attention for a brief moment as nanami entered himself inside you. you loved how different they both felt. toji was on the bigger side, his cock stretching you out in ways you could never imagine, leaving you begging him for more. where as nanami had length. he was able to reach your spot within seconds of thrusting, sending you over the edge rather quickly.

“jesus, you’re so fuckin’ tight sweetheart,” he groans, stray pieces of blond hair sticking to his forehead as he kept a slow and gentle pace. toji on the other hand, gave you a small moment to get use to the feeling between your legs prior to fucking your face.

“open up, sweet thing,” toji says and you oblige. with your mouth stretching as wide as it could, you tried your absolute best to fit him all the way in, gargling on his cock as his balls slapped against your forehead, “aah—shit, love this fuckin’ throat. takin’ us so well, and at the same time too.”

“and this cunt too,” nanami adds, “never get over you. can’t believe you feel this good, love.”

love. you’d be lying if you said their words didn’t make you want to cry and cum all at once but here you were, taking the two men you admired and cherished the most— unable to call them yours. but deep down inside, the three of you knew the connection was endless. no matter how many times they’d remind themselves of the rules created beforehand, the feeling of your pussy around them had the two men drawn to no one other than you.

the familiar sensation in your stomach had you moaning and whimpering as the two men continued to fuck your holes. noticing your change in movement, nanami reached out to intertwine his hand with yours. a few moments after, you could feel toji doing the same, grabbing the hand that nanami hadn’t, both of them holding onto you and letting you know that they were ready for your explosion.

the intimacy and warmth that they were giving you took you there, toji removing his cock from your mouth and nanami picking up speed, “fuck i’m cumming a-again— ooh! please, please, please— it feels so good!”

“you heard the lady nanami, make that pussy cum,” toji chuckles. as if it were on command, you cunt suckled at nanami’s cock, pulling him right along with you as you reach your climax.

“cum baby, cum for me—please, i’m gonna’ cum with you,” he grunts, squeezing your hand a bit tighter. after a few more sloppy thrusts, you and nanami had cum together.

“there you go, good girl,” toji says, kneeling down to kiss your cheeks and neck. your tits jiggled with every breath you took and your mind was fuzzy from the moment. neither of them had let you go yet, both of their hands still holding on to yours and nanami’s cock still keeping warm inside you.

“that was…fuck,” nanami sighs, watching as toji’s thumbs wiped away the tears that’d escaped your eyes earlier tonight.

after cleaning you up and dressing you in one of nanami’s clean shirts, you could be found resting in the bedroom as the two men talked amongst themselves in the kitchen.

“so when are you gonna’ tell her how you feel?” toji asks, breaking the still silence of the room.

“i don’t know…when are you?”

SUUNMIC 2022 — ©️ all rights reserved to @suunmic. please refrain from copying or reposting as your own.

once again, special thank you to the lovely @venusflytrapstar !!!!

[chimcess]

Waterlog || pjm (1)

Pairing: Jimin x Reader Other tags: Olympic Swimmer!Jimin, Ex Olympic Swimmer! Reader, Swim Coach!Reader Genre: Strangers to Friends to Lovers!AU, Coach!AU, Swimming!AU, Age Gap!AU, HEAVY Angst, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, fluff, eventual smut, I'm so soft for these two it's crazy. Word Count: 17.4k+ Synopsis: After a car accident ends her athletic career, Y/N has slowly started rebuilding her life again as a high school swim coach. That’s until she gets a request from an old friend and finds herself back in the spotlight as the new coach of Olympic swimmer, Park Jimin. Warnings: discussions of significant death (does not happen in story), talks of a bad car accident, talks of drunk driving (please drinking responsibly), more than likely wrong swimming terms and poor understanding of how the Olympics actually works (I did so much research, pls be nice to me lol), strong language, lots of mental health discussions, reader has mommy and daddy issues, Older reader, Jimin is a complete sweetie, the tamest chapter of them all A/N: Well, well, well, look who came back. I first wrote Waterlog back in 2021, and while I enjoy the premise, I hate the finished product. I wanted to go back and edit/fix what I originally had, but when I tried it became so different, I was better off rewriting the entire thing. I hope you guys like this mini-series. If you would like to read the original go to my blog archive. Thank you for reading!

masterlist || next || playlist

Staring at the pool, I managed to calm myself with relative ease. Jin had been right, physical therapy had made things easier. The water glistened prettily in the lights, and I waited with bated breath for my trainer to come in. 

Emery was a sweet guy, pretty with a lip ring and tattoos, but with a surprising amount of shyness it was laughable. His softness was offset by his powerful muscles, and I enjoyed his never-ending sense of humor. Unlike Dr.Maddox, Emery treated me like I was a normal person. Not an Olympian who almost lost her leg in an accident, or the woman whose fiancé died. I was just Y/N, and it was a relief to be around him.

Running my fingers along the scars on my leg, I mindlessly drew patterns around them in the silence. It was not normal for Emery to take this long, but his assistant had said he was running behind due to another patient, so I was unbothered. I had planned my entire day around this, so I was in no rush.

Finally, the door swung open revealing a disheveled Emery. Breathing heavier than usual, he rolled his eyes at me in frustration before saying his pleasantries. Whoever it had been had gotten him worked up.

“Rough morning?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

With an annoyed sigh, he nodded.

“I shouldn’t say this, but I hope that woman never comes back here.”

I laughed, “We all have that someone. Don’t feel too bad.”

Shaking his head, I could tell it took restraint on his part not to rant and rave about the woman who had left. Emery and I were more friendly than most. I had been seeing him for over two years now, but we still kept a semblance of a professional relationship. Especially Emery.

“How’s the kids?” He asked, making small talk as we started getting ready for a swim.

I was the coach of a high school swim team in town, something I talked about quite a bit, and Emery always liked hearing about. He was a great water polo player but chose to go into physical therapy while he was in college. After seeing one of his friends get injured and how much physical therapy had helped him, Emery decided to change his major. Four years later, he says he could never see himself doing anything else.

“They’re doing well,” I said honestly. “We got a couple of freshmen on the team, but they’re doing a lot better than I thought they would.”

Emery hummed, offering me assistance getting into the pool. While walking had been mostly figured out, the obvious limp aside, I still had some trouble with getting in-and-out of things. Even my bathtub had to be switched out since I was unable to step over it. I still used the medical chair while in there, too.

The water was cool against my skin, and I felt instantly relieved. The dull aches and pains left as soon as I got into the water. Swimming to my usual spot, I waited patiently for Emery to join me.

“That’s great to hear,” He smiled.

Going to the edge of the pool, Emery grabbed a set of barbells and handed them to me. Taking them, the two of us went over the workout plan for the day. Pulling himself up on the pool’s edge, Emery picked up his stopwatch and told me to begin.

Getting on the interstate, I sang along to the radio as I made my way to Hoseok’s. The two of us had been friends since high school, our mutual love for swimming making it impossible to keep apart, and only growing with time. He was one of my biggest support systems after the accident. Both of us had retired years ago now, but I remembered our days as Olympians fondly. Those were the best years of my life.

A small group of our friends were getting together at his house to watch the summer Olympics this afternoon. The women’s swimming finals were happening today, and I knew two of the girls competing. Turning on my blinker, I quickly got off the interstate.

Pressing around my car’s radio screen, I went to my contacts and pressed Andy’s number. She was off today and in charge of getting everything together. Hoseok had tried to do it himself, but always seemed to forget who should do what and ended up buying everything himself. She picked up after the fourth ring.

“What’s up, sugar?” Andy greeted, her voice soft and light. Her Memphis accent was thick and brought a smile to my face. Everyone had made jokes about her being southern when we first met. “Don’t tell me you’re missing Nationals.”

I shook my head even though she could not see me.

“I’m on my way,” I replied. “What should I pick up? I completely forgot.”

Andy sighed, “You’re just as bad as Jin.”

Seokjin was Andy’s husband. The two of them had been together whenever they moved to Colorado, married before I ever met them, and became quick friends with Hoseok when they moved to the Springs. That was how I had met them. Whenever their daughter Dani was born, Andy had asked me to be her Godmother and I sobbed in her lap. They were my closest friends next to Hoseok. Jin was indeed very forgetful, though, and the jibe made me chuckle.

“Cut me some slack,” I argued. “I’ve been working out for two hours straight.”

I could hear the smile in her voice, “Just get some pizza or something. We’re picking up some wings and Hobi’s in charge of the drinks. Minho and Tilly are bringing… something. I don’t even know anymore.”

Fully laughing now, I saw a Little Ceasars up ahead and got into the correct lane. Minho and Matilda were loose cannons when it came to our parties. While sweet, and fiercely loyal, I found myself wondering why I hung out with them at times. We were night and day personality wise, but I loved them dearly. Minho would probably bring some Korean side dishes from home, and Matilda would pick up a few packs of ramen from the store. Andy was stressing over nothing again. I hoped she was getting proper rest on her days off.

“I’m at Little Caesars,” I told her, parking my car. “I’m going to get the basics. How many things of Crazy Bread should I get?”

She thought for a second before replying.

“Five?” She was definitely unsure about her answer.

It was hard to gauge just how hungry everyone would be, and Jin was a bottomless pit.

“Sounds good,” I said instead, already thinking about getting more.

“Drive safe. See you in a bit.”

“See you, Andy,” I unplugged my phone from the charger.

Pressing it to my ear, I pressed my start button and turned it off. I climbed out of my car and started walking to the store.

“Love you,” She sing-songed playfully.

“Love you, too,” I replied. Opening the door, a worker greeted me with a smile. “I’m about to order.”

Shoving my phone in my back pocket, I gave the worker an awkward smile before telling him my order. I ended up getting seven bags instead of five. Just in case. Dani really liked the stuff and Jin could smash an entire bag by himself. While I waited for the cheese pizza to come out of the oven, my phone started ringing.

“Hello?” I answered, unable to check the caller ID while the cashier shoved the crazy bread into my arms.

“I heard from a little bird that you’re thinking about competing again.”

I grinned and thanked the cashier as she handed me my other pizza. 

“Hello to you, too, Frank,” I replied. “And your little birdie wouldn’t happen to be Hoseok, would it?”

Frank and Sarah Boone had become a part of my life after the accident. They ran a local support group to help those affected by drunk drivers to get connected with resources and therapy. The two had lost their son when he decided to drive home drunk from a party and used the group as their own coping mechanism. They were wonderful people and owned their own joint coffee shop and bookstore in Denver. 

“Won’t say names,” He chuckled, “But it might have come from a certain part-timer. So, is it true?”

I placed the boxes in the passenger seat and rounded my car. This was not a conversation I was expecting to happen today. I had brought up the idea to Hoseok since the Olympics were coming up next year, but I was not committed to it. I was enjoying my new job coaching and did not think I was in any condition for competition. When he brought up the Paralympics I laughed. Those competitors were in better shape than I was, and I doubted I would qualify. I was disabled but my disability did not (as far as I knew) carry over into the pool.

“I was just talking shit, Frank,” Backing out of the parking space, I put in Hoseok’s address and started to drive. Switching over to my car’s phone, I put my phone down and looked at the road. “You know I’m happy with my life right now.”

He made a grunting noise that told me he did not really believe me. No one did. All of them were sure I was miserable about my career ending far before its time, and while that may be true, I felt more loss about the life I was supposed to have than winning medals. I missed Namjoon more than any medal. Frank and Sarah understood that.

“I know that,” He cleared his throat, and I could hear the congestion. Frank had come down with a nasty case of walking pneumonia two weeks ago and was still recovering. “Just got a little excited is all. It would be nice to see you putting yourself back out there.”

It would be nice to see myself back in the pool, I could admit that. I had dreams of it at times. Being a competitor was a part of who I was. From the first time my dad took me to my swim classes when I was six all the way until I claimed my eighth Olympic medal, everyone had said there was nothing I hated more than losing. I was fiery, free-spirited, and kept my eyes on the prize. It was the thing Namjoon loved about me the most. That made me frown.

“I left a champ,” I forced a laugh. “Need to save some gold for the rest of them.”

Hiding behind humor was a pastime. 

Frank laughed, oblivious to the hollowness in my tone. “Heard they have a new guy taking your place.”

That made me snort, “He’s not taking my spot. Totally different competitions, my friend.”

“Winning gold like you, that’s for damn sure.”

It must be Jimin Park. The kid turned up on the scene a year after my accident. He was a very, very talented swimmer. Fast as a bullet with the best butterflies I had ever seen, Park was a force to be reckoned with in the men’s league. It was a joy to watch him swim and this year would be his first Olympics. Hoseok and I were very excited to watch him.

“If you’re talking about Park,” I chuckled. “He’s far from new. He’s been competing for a few years now. First Olympics, though.”

“He’s young, ain’t he?”

I nodded, “23, I think.”

Truthfully, I did not know how old he was. I remember the buzz around how young he was when he first broke out on the scene. He was eighteen when he took home gold all season before a family emergency took him out of the Olympics last minute. No one knew what really happened, but his team had said his brother was in an accident, tragically losing his life, and Jimin was prioritizing his family. He’s competed every year since and with the Olympics next year, I was certain Park would be there. He deserved it.

I was parked in front of the house now and from the cars outside, I was the last person to arrive. Frank and I talked for a few moments. It was cute how much he had learned about swimming so we could be buddies. Sarah was the only person who recognized my face when I first started going to the meetings and her husband was determined to get me to open after weeks of sitting in bitter silence in the back. 

We hung up after I promised I would make it to the meeting next Thursday. Frank was not happy about me skipping the past two weeks, but understood I was taking some time to myself. My boys were going to compete this year, I had fought tooth and nail for that funding, and the extra hours at school were exhausting. Jeremy and Evan showed promise, but they knew how to drive me up the wall with all of their simple mistakes.

As I suspected, the party was in full swing. Matilda and Minho were laughing loudly on the sofa, Hoseok sporting a beer in the recliner next to them, and Dani practicing her gymnastics in the middle of it all. I could hear the commentators talking animatedly about the girls, who they believed would come out on top and highlights from the night before, but I never really paid them any mind.

“Pizza’s here!” Minho boomed, practically running to greet me.

I laughed, handing over the boxes, “Need help carrying the rest in.”

Matilda offered, happily taking my car keys and leaving the house. Minho had disappeared into the kitchen. Dani spared me enough attention for a smile and wave before launching into excited pleas for me to watch her new moves. 

“Super cool, babe,” I smiled sweetly after her handstand. Dani was not particularly good at gymnastics. She started later than the other girls, rarely did anything she was actively afraid of, and hated her coach. Andy was already looking for a better gym, but I just thought she should start pointing her in another direction. Dani loved dancing and she would be a wonderful ballerina or figure skater if given the proper training. The Kim’s, however, seemed fine watching her deal with gymnastics and cheerleading. “You’re getting better.”

Dani beamed, “Daddy said the same thing.”

Flipping the right way around, her hair coming out of its messily tied bun and falling down past her shoulders. Brown, loose waves made her look so much younger than her eight years, her small stature only selling the illusion even more. Her skin was smooth, and she always looked as though she had been playing outside in the sun, a constant tinge of pink beneath her sandy skin. Her features favored her father, large eyes, long face, and plush, pillow-like lips, but after meeting Andy’s parents, I could see her grandmother hidden within the mischievous glint in her eyes and too small ears.

“Your dad’s a smart guy,” I joked. 

She continued to babble away as I made myself more comfortable, kicking off my shoes and tossing my hat onto the small buffet table that sat above the shoe rack. Matilda came back inside, her arms filled with bags of bread, and I took two from the pile. With a thankful, thin-lipped grin, she also complimented Dani’s moves before disappearing around the corner in the direction of the kitchen.

“Dani,” Hoseok seemed to have finally grown tired of hearing the girl talk. I would imagine this was all he had been hearing since he arrived. “Do you want to color with me?”

The little girl clapped happily, her eyes bright and shining, before abandoning her mat to gather a few coloring books and her massive hoard of crayons. Hoseok looked at me then, a sly smile on his face before winking. I chuckled and shook my head. He always did that to make her shut up. 

I left the living room before Dani came back. I loved her dearly, but I could admit she talked too much. It was a good thing for a kid her age to be so social but that did not mean I wanted to hear her every waking thought. Andrea and Seokjin were the only parents in our little group, and I imagined it would stay that way for a while. Even if my dreams of children were still alive, I did not have anybody I wanted to take on that responsibility with.

Minho was eating the pizza, as expected, while Matilda had already claimed her own bag of Crazy Bread. Andy and Jin were snuggled up at their dining table, his arms securing her to his chest, and she curled into him. I loved watching them together. I had grown up in a house with two people who hated one another, barely kept up a facade of civility before my mother skipped down to be with her new boyfriend in Florida leaving my dad and I behind in Pennsylvania. We made it work but things were never the same after that. It made me happy to know little Dani would feel the love radiating in her home as she grew up. I had never seen two people so enamored with one another in my life- not even Namjoon and I.

“How was therapy?” Minho asked after we exchanged pleasantries. “Hoseok said you were talking about competing next season.”

I laughed in disbelief. That man did not know how to keep his mouth shut. I said the same thing I told Frank over the phone, and he scoffed. Minho never truly laughed, if I was honest. It was always a snicker, scoff, or chuckle. He was a man of little words and even fewer outbursts of joy, and I found his versions of those things just as reserved as the rest of him. He was the most expressive when he smiled, but those were just as rare as a genuine laugh. Dani managed to squeeze more out of him than anybody else. 

“Stop meddling!” Andy scolded the other man from her spot in Seokjin’s lap. 

“Never,” My friend replied, amusement clear in his voice.

“Never!” Dani echoed, voice louder than Hoseok’s. She was giggling happily alongside him, and I rolled my eyes. He was her favorite. “Never!” She repeated again, pleased when Hoseok laughed. “Never!”

“That’s enough,” Jin’s voice was even and smooth.

Dani did not shout again but we could all hear her and Hoseok attempting to cover up their laughter. Andy smiled fondly. Their little friendship had warmed her heart. After Dani, Andrea had been diagnosed with cervical cancer. It had come back six times before her doctor said she needed to get a hysterectomy. She grieved the children they would never have, the large family she dreamed of stolen from her, but once Dani was old enough to walk, she had been glued to Hoseok’s hip.

Hoseok for all he spoke about never wanting children, he adored Dani. His family was small, he and his sister the only children, but they were extremely close. She lived in New York City as a fashion designer and got married last year, and I always had the feeling Hoseok felt lonely without her. Dani was a welcome break from routine and made him feel special. It was sweet but I hoped my friend would find someone to share his life with someday. 

“It’s starting,” Hoseok announced.

It was a great day for the U.S. Opal Simmons was one to look out for. She was the oldest woman on the team, a shocking 24, but she could out swim a vast majority of them. Her freestyles were amazing, earning her a gold with Japan just a few points behind. I was hopeful she would be able to come out on top in her distance swim. While not the fastest in the pool, the girl knew how to pace herself. The cameras cut to the shot of one of her coaches smiling triumphantly at the performance.

He was a good friend of mine, Oswald Bunch. He had been heavily involved with the Olympics for years now, promoted to one of the lead coaches back in 2020, but I remembered when he was still competing. A few years older than me, Ozzie was known for his backstrokes and long-distance swimming, and we bonded whenever we got the chance to meet in London back in 2012.

That was my first Olympics. I was a fresh-faced 20-year-old on a mission. My team at the time was stoked to have me around and I was excited to be there. I had built up a solid reputation over the course of two years, winning seven medals my first adult-competitive season, and the high was incredible. Back then, I was always the one to beat at the breaststroke and therefore, the medleys were in my favor as well. I walked away with 4 golds that year, and again in 2016. The accident happened a year later, but I left the competitive world with 8 gold Olympic medals and 19 world champion gold medals. Katie Ledecky held the record now, but for a time, I was the most decorated female swimmer in history. I was excited when I was finally passed up, happy for the younger woman.

Ozzie was the man, but sadly never got out of Michael Phelp’s shadow. It was not his fault. That man was insane in the water and would become the most decorated Olympian ever. Bunch was a great swimmer, but I did not know a single person who could compare to Phelps. Hoseok, maybe, but he only had 12 gold medals. Phelps had 23.

“Simmons looks great out there,” Hoseok praised, a large smile on his face.

“Her butterflies could use a little work,” I murmured back, already seeing how I could fix it with some extra exercises. “It’s slowing down her freestyle. What else is she scheduled for?”

“I think she’s doing the 200-meter freestyles and the medley relay,” He replied, taking a sip of his beer. “Bunch is banking on her pacing.”

“She won’t win those,” I was positive. “She’s just going to get tired. Breaststrokes are obviously not her thing.”

He laughed, “You’re the breaststroke queen, Y/N. No one's as good as yours.”

I shrugged, “Ledecky is a great swimmer.”

“Never said she wasn’t,” He sipped. “Her freestyles are killer. Girls could never beat you in breaststroke or a medley. You’re untouchable there.”

It made me smile despite myself. Hoseok was right, those were my competitions. Even if Katie had surpassed my record for most gold medals ever, I still had more Olympic medals than she did, and they were in completely different events. I could have kept my title had the accident never happened. I would have. Even if we were friendly, Ledecky would have been my competition, and I would have fought hard to keep the record.

“What’s Jimin doing this year?” Matilda asked as the women’s scores were posted. Opal would be a strong contender. “Anyone know?”

I nodded, “I haven’t watched every competition, but he’s sticking to what he does best. Didn’t he swim the 200 yesterday?”

“Yeah,” Hoseok replied. “He’s skipping out today and doing his individual tomorrow. Swimming back-to-back after that. Kid’s a fucking animal in the water.”

I couldn't agree more. As I stared at Opal’s smiling face, her pale blonde hair and bright blue eyes, I wished I had been able to watch Jimin instead. She was cold and impassive even with a large, perfectly white grin that took up most of her face. In fact, I found her quite boring outside of the water. No flair or features that set her apart. Just a tall, well-built blonde with a nice smile. Ozzie would have to work hard to make her memorable.

“Simmons did well,” I yawned. “It’s getting late, though, and I have work in the morning.”

The goodbyes were quick, and Dani made me promise to take her roller skating soon. There was a girl at school making fun of her and she wanted her “super cool” and “famous” aunt to tell them off. We all laughed, and I told her we could go this weekend after gymnastics practice. 

My drive home was uneventful. It was already dark out, something that bothered me more than I would ever admit out loud, and I never turned on the radio. I preferred to drive in absolute silence, eyes and ears glued to the road. I had only started talking on the phone recently.

I was much worse after the accident. I refused to get inside of a car for weeks and if I did, I was a mess. No one was allowed to be a distracted driver either. No radio, no phone, no conversations. Nothing. Jin had been the default chauffeur during that time and put up with my anxiety better than the others.

It was close to a year before I tried to sit in the front seat again. Another five before I got behind the wheel. For hours I would sit in the garage with my hands on the steering wheel staring off into the distance. I was still in a wheelchair for most of my daily activities and a very obvious limp made me too self-conscious to be seen. Isolating was easy. Keeping the others away was more difficult.

My drives started with me just backing out of the driveway. I went around the block a few weeks later, hands shaking and Andy trying her best to soothe me in the passenger seat. I did not drive past the Whole Foods two minutes away from my house until after the second year. Things were easier after I ditched the wheelchair and got more open to the idea of therapy.

Moving out of Denver was the best decision I ever made, the Springs were easier to drive in and the traffic was not as awful. Andrea and Jin bought in Black Forest once I was settled in Briargate, so loneliness was never an option.

Matilda almost moved in after the housewarming party Andy threw for me. She said it was far too big for one person and the neighborhood was to die for. I laughed her off at the time not really wanting to admit how nice it sounded.

Nestled in Fairfax, my house was a beautiful piece of architecture. The striking brick and wood front exterior provided a warm welcome, with teal trimmings bringing a fresh feeling to the otherwise plain color scheme. With five bedrooms and four bathrooms, I dreamed of the day I was able to fill them all. A dream that I hoped would come before I hit 35.

 Pulling up to the house, I waved to Chika next door. The old woman raised her hand, still nursing a large mug of what I assumed to be tea and smiled. They were lovely people and we often helped one another out whenever we could. Chika liked to bring over food if she cooked and I paid my landscapers to keep with their lawn.

“Late night?” Chika called out from her front porch. 

“Went to a friend’s house,” I replied.

“Good,” She meant it. “Glad to see you getting out of the house.”

I smiled but was not sure how well she could see my face in the dark.

“Yeah. Night, Chika.”

“Night, Y/N.”

I showered quickly and sipped on a cup of chamomile tea before heading off to bed. After taking my night medications, one to force myself to sleep while the other blocked the never-ending nightmares, I climbed into bed. I was able to play a single game of solitaire before they both kicked in. I fell asleep with the sound of gentle rain humming in the background.

“Let’s go, guys!” I yelled, blowing my whistle.

The twelve boys waited, their small talk coming to an abrupt end. We had just finished warming up and I allowed all of them a short water break. I was a huge advocate for rest periods. No one needed to pull a muscle or fatigue early due to over working. I had a 2800-yard routine prepared, 800 of those done during our warm-ups, and the rest divided between our main set and cooldowns.

Jordan, our captain, was smiling happily. He was such an excited kid, and his positivity was contagious. While some of the boys were disappointed when I first chose him to replace our old captain after his graduation, I was sure his spirit would do everyone some good. It did not take long for the others to come around and he was beloved.

“Alright, so we have a 1600 main set. In between each of our reps, we will be doing a switch out of easy breast and backstrokes. Clear?”

“Crystal!” They all replied in unison.

“Alright. That's what I like to hear,” Flipping through my clipboard was more for show than anything. I used to rely on it heavily when I first started teaching since brain damage messed with my short-term memory, but I had been doing this long enough to know what was happening. Now it was just a way for me to write notes about their performances. “We’re starting with a 4x100 with 15-second rest; the first 25 butterfly. 3x100 with 10-second rest; again, first 25 butterfly. Following?”

No questions were asked, and a few guys voiced they were good for me to keep going.

“Good. Then we have a 2x100 with 5-second rest. First 25?”

“Butterfly,” Jordan replied.

“Thank you, Abbot. Okay, and we’re finishing up with 8x50 freestyle. Fast and easy.”

All twelve of them began to prepare to take their mark. One by one they stood on their blocks and waited for me to make the call. I admired them all for a moment. You could see the difference in each one of them. Those who were confident stood tall, their shoulders squared, and head held high. Newcomers were still figuring out their place on the team but were eager to prove themselves. Two of them would be leaving us this year, Gabriel and Marcus, and neither one of them were continuing to swim after graduation. It was a sad thought, but I was happy with how they carried themselves. They had both come a long way.

“Take your mark,” My voice echoed. Each boy got into their starting position as I watched them like a hawk. One of the freshmen, Phineas, needed major work on his form. I would talk to Jordan about it. Grabbing hold of my stopwatch, I took a deep breath. “Go!”

Marcus was the first in, like always, and I ignored him. I knew he was fully capable of taking care of himself. Phineas was the weakest link in my chain right now. He was struggling, his arms growing tired and his speed nonexistent. The other freshmen, Tobias, or as the guys called him, Twig, was not much better. He had more strength, but I chopped that up to his size. I would need to really start working some more beginner drills to get them in shape. Jordan and Gabriel would be more than happy to give up a Saturday or two to help out. 

Marcus was the first one finished and I marked his time. Still a tenth of a second faster than Jordan. After Jordan came Gabriel and then Joseph and Anthony. I was disappointed in Jett’s time, but I would invite him to the weekend practices with the others. He needed some foot and hip exercises. Twig came in before Phineas, but every other boy was already out of the water by the time they made it back. Phineas was visibly upset, and I made a note to pull him to the side after practice to cheer him up. 

Practices typically lasted two hours and the boys swam hard. Phineas did, in fact, perk up after I told him I was noticing tons of improvements in his performance. Twig just seemed happy he was not the worst guy in the water. After talking it out with Jordan, we decided on a good weekend time for extra practices, and I stayed behind to print off a poster and signup sheets for the rest of the boys. I had a feeling almost everyone except Marcus would show. He had a part-time job now and his weekends were full. 

Sitting in my office, I poured over my observations and timecards. With a team this large I should have an extra set of hands to help with timing. I sent an email to the principal asking about helpers and got back to the nitty gritty. 

All of them could work on something. Phineas might have needed the most work, Twig not far behind him, but my most seasoned swimmers had room for improvement. Jett was still struggling with maximizing propulsion, Anthony and Milo needed to get better water balance, and Gabriel’s pull could be better. Even my best swimmers, Jordan and Marcus, could use a bit of refinement in technique. It was nitpicking but they were too talented to give up on their potential.

It was close to nine when my phone began to ring. I knew it could not be any of my usual calls. Andy was working nights this week and Jin was fast asleep at home with Dani. Minho was in bed by eight, Matilda would never bother me this late, and Hoseok hated phone calls. Checking the caller ID, I was shocked to see Ozzie’s name.

“Hello?” I answered tentatively, afraid he might have called me by accident.

“Otter,” Ozzie greeted me happily. He seemed so delighted that I answered, I smiled even though I hated the nickname. “How’s life going?”

I chuckled, “Rockin’ and rollin’. Saw your girl last night. Looks great, Oz.”

“Appreciate it,” He was so dismissive of it I became interested. This was not a catch-up phone call or else he might have hooked onto the bait. My stomach twisted in anticipation. If it was not for pleasantries, then it was for work and that was something to be excited about. “Still teaching high school?”

“Mhm,” I fiddled with my pencil, papers forgotten. “My boys team is strong. I only have three girls that signed up so we’re just training during P.E. and hoping some more join.”

We chatted a bit more about the team. The longer it went on the more knots I had. Oswald was fishing for something, and I wanted to figure out what. After telling him about Phineas, I asked what the random call was about.

“Always cutting to the chase,” He joked.

I did not laugh.

“Alright, you caught me,” Ozzie sighed. “Look, the Olympic team is looking for another assistant coach and your name came up a few times.”

My mouth went dry. I had heard about Tiara Marsh leaving to focus on her family. She had a baby and stepped down a few months after coming back from maternity leave. I respected the decision and messaged her my congratulations. Ozzie had taken the lead coach position three years ago with Todd Packer as his partner. The other assistant, Drew Jones, was a sweet girl from what I heard and working with her would be a dream. 

Still, it was an impossible task. Trying to imagine myself on the sidelines, coaching the next big names in sporting history with a massive squad behind me made my stomach queasy. I doubt any of them respected me. My leg was ruined, my career burned out just as quickly as it started, and I never had the chance to reach my peak. Now I am a 30-year-old washed up recluse. Just thinking about the media frenzy made my breathing get a little heavier. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Oz,” I murmured.

“I told them you wouldn’t go for it,” He replied, unsurprised. “They’re going to approach Storm Kline instead.”

“Oh,” Now I was confused. “Why’d you bring it up then?”

“Because I got to thinking,” I braced myself. Ozzie was known for his big, bright, dumb, impulsive ideas. “I knew the Olympics would be asking too much of you. Cameras and interviews are the last thing you want after the fucking circus you went through last time.”

That was an understatement. Circus did not even begin to describe the absolute hell the media put me through after the accident. So many speculations and insensitive remarks managed to ruin any peace I could have gotten during that time.

While I was in a coma, no one knowing if I would ever wake up again, the news thought it wise to harass my friends and family. My old coach, Victor Stanley, was assaulted whenever he left the hospital. When news got out that Namjoon was pulled off life support, his mother and father were so sick and tired of people parked outside their house they packed up and moved away before I even woke up. I wanted nothing to do with the media after that.

“It’s a little different but I think you’d be a great fit for the job,” Ozzie continued. “One of my boys, Jimin Park, is in need of a personal coach. His mom is sick and he’s wanting to stay in Michigan for as long as he can before coming out to the Springs to start training for Paris.

“I almost called Jung, but I don’t think the two of them would get along well enough for this to work. You’re the only person I know I can trust with him, and from what I’m hearing, you’re one hell of a coach already.”

This was somehow even more nerve wracking than the assistant position. I had never trained one-on-one before, at least, not long term. I was sure I could do it, but a high schooler was very different from an Olympic athlete relying on me to keep him in shape for the season. 

“What happened to Hamilton?” I asked, still unable to wrap my head around the situation. “I thought he was Park’s personal trainer.”

“He was but the two fell out when Jimin decided to stay in Michigan. You know how Matt is.”

That I did. Matthew Hamilton was a massive asshole, and that was putting it lightly. He was one of the best trainers around and got results which was why he still had a job despite his rotten attitude. I had the misfortune of running into him quite a few times over the years and my distaste only grew with each passing. I could imagine that conversation not going over particularly well.

“But what about my team?” I asked, staring at my desk. All of my plans and strategies were mapped out and I was ready to put them to use. My boys were counting on me and leaving them felt wrong. “I don’t want to leave them high and dry, Oz.”

“Ask Hoseok to cover for you,” I rolled my eyes at his blase attitude.

“This is my team.”

“And this is Jimin Park.”

I hated that I understood where he was coming from. Most of my boys would never go off to swim professionally and their skill set was not on par with anyone out right now. They were not committed to the strict regime that would take and I did not get paid well enough to justify the extra hours. Jimin, however, would pay me extremely well and I would get that experience under my belt. I might even learn a few new things to add to my own drills.

“Give me a few days to think about it,” I finally conceded. “And set up a phone call, or meeting, or something with the kid. Need to make sure we’re on the same page before we waste one another’s time.”

Ozzie laughed, “I think you’ll get along just fine, but sure. I think he’d appreciate the gesture.”

Nothing of much importance was said after that. We hung up with promises of talking soon and then I was alone once more. My office was still just as messy and swamped with paperwork as it had been before, but it all looked different. It felt like I was already gone, and a deep homesickness settled in my chest. I stared at the papers in front of me and sighed before shooting a text to Hoseok.

As I expected, everyone had told me to jump at the opportunity. Hoseok even said if I didn’t, I would be the biggest idiot he had ever met. Matilda asked if she could come (I told her no), and Dani just seemed bummed that we could not hang out anymore. Andy and Jin were the most supportive of the situation while Minho the most cautious. He was worried about the media catching wind of something and causing a frenzy. After Matila pointed out how old news I was, I felt a little less afraid of that possibility even if it was a hit to my ego.

Ozzie seemed pumped when I told him I was open to the idea if Jimin and I seemed to mesh well. I was firm in my decision to talk to him before making any concrete plans, and from what Ozzie told me, my future student was extremely receptive to the idea. I also learned that Opal was jealous of her fellow Olympian, but I tried not to let that puff up my chest. 

That was why I was sitting in my home office, hair nicely styled and a light layer of makeup on waiting for Jimin to join our Zoom call. I wore blue since Ozzie said it was his favorite color, but the material was slowly driving me insane. While the color was nice, deep blue and sparkled whenever the light hit it, it was scratchy and irritated the skin around my chest and shoulders. I almost got up to change but a small icon with the letters ‘JP’ in the center popped up before I could.

“Hello?” A soft voice called out.

“Hey,” I replied with an awkward wave. “Can you see me?”

“Yeah, can you see me?”

I shook my head, “Just your icon.”

Cursing under his breath, Jimin apologized for the tech issues. I adored how nice he was to listen to. It was unique, gentle and raspy, but also feminine in its softness. There was no bass or hardness, every sound and syllable light and airy with self-depreciating laughter after every insult he threw at himself. Apparently, Jimin was not great with technology and always had a difficult time with cyber meetings.

“This is fine with me,” I tried to reassure him. “I don’t need to see your face to talk.”

“No,” He agreed, “But it’s a little awkward for you to have your camera on and mine’s off.”

I could hear him clicking around. “I’ll turn mine off, too, if that helps.”

He shut that down immediately and continued clicking and typing. After a few more minutes, he found his problem. Then the icon was gone and there he was.

His face was round, his cheeks plump, and chin soft. The first thing I noticed about him was his lips. They were rounded and plump like a baby duck with a soft, heart shaped cupid’s bow that led up a small, button nose. Everything about his face was soft except his eyes which were almond shaped and flicked outwards like a cat’s. His hair was pitch black and parted down the middle, framing his face and making his pale skin look like snow. When he caught a glimpse of himself in the camera a large smile took over his face and I felt the wind get knocked out of me. 

“Can you see me?” He asked.

I nodded, “Yeah, I think we’re in the clear.”

Neither one of us knew what to say for a moment. He swirled around in his chair in search of his water bottle. He stood up, excusing himself for a moment. He was also wearing a blue shirt, a pair of black pants, and seemed just as nervous as I did. He left the room while I sat and thought about him.

There was one word to describe Jimin: pretty. His soft lines and tiny waist made him look so much smaller than I had imagined him. All of the years seeing him on the tv did nothing to compare to watching him walk around a little room in his home. Without a cap and goggles, Jimin was angelic, and I felt uneasy. How was I supposed to work with someone I found this attractive?

“Sorry,” He was back now, a large Yeti cup in hand. “I should’ve made sure I had this already.”

“No worries. I’m not in any rush.”

He sat back down, and I finally noticed the large oval necklace he was wearing. I did not know what it could mean to him, but I had seen him with it a few times at events. It was simple and silver, no gem in the center of the pendant, and sat directly over his heart. He took a sip from his cup, snapping me back to action.

“How’s your mother doing?” I asked. “Ozzie told me she wasn’t well.”

His expression saddened me, and I hated that I brought it up. I knew how much I did not enjoy talking about Namjoon’s death, and while his mother was still alive, she was not well. Unfortunately, I could not take the question back.

“I’m not sure how much you know,” He started, leaning back in the leather computer chair. “She has melanoma and isn’t doing chemotherapy anymore. I’m staying in Michigan so I can spend as much time with her as possible.”

My heart ached for him and his family. Cancer had a reputation for ripping families apart and I could only imagine how this was affecting the young swimmer. My own grief was long and drawn out, guilt and shame hanging over my head for years before I was finally able to let it go, but the death itself was swift. Joon was dead and buried before I woke up from the coma, but I could recall every detail of that hospital room when Victor told me what happened. I hated to think about watching the life slip from him, knowing he would die, and knowing there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.

“I understand. I’m really sorry to hear that.”

I knew it was inadequate, but I did not know this man well enough to say my thoughts out loud. Maybe later, after a few weeks of training together, I could get the courage to let him know I would be there if he needed someone to talk to. I knew all about navigating grief and I would happily help him stay motivated through this horrible, tragic time. Jimin stayed quiet so I took it upon myself to get the ball rolling again.

“I know you’re going through a difficult time right now, and I just want you to know that I get it and I see you. If we work together, I will make sure your mental health comes first. Whatever you need, whatever your family needs, will always come before getting in the pool.

“You were working with Hamilton before this, and whatever happened between you two- I don’t know, that’s none of my business, but I can promise you I will try my best to make sure our professional relationship doesn’t reach that point. Just tell me what’s up and I’ll make it work.”

Jimin smiled a small, sad smile that paled in comparison to that blinding show of teeth earlier. My eyes could not help their roaming and I felt guilty. There was a chance we would be working together, and I could not feel this way about him if that time came. I could only hope that if we did decide to move forward with this arrangement, any affections I could have for him would get buried. I would have to talk to Hoseok about this.

“I have to take her to appointments once a week,” He replied, voice small and eyes staring at something off camera. “She’s not getting her chemo anymore but still goes to see her doctor often to manage symptoms as best she can. She also has a dance class every Sunday morning and I will be going with her.”

I nodded, “I can live with that. As long as you’re still putting in work you can take your mom anywhere.”

He took a deep breath and finally looked at the camera again. The vulnerability I found there took me off guard. Jimin must be someone who wears their emotions on their sleeve, and I would have to learn to nurture that. Namjoon always told me I needed to work on being more sensitive to others, a skill I had yet to master. 

“Matt didn’t like how much time I spent out of the pool. I understand where he’s coming from but I’m hoping we can come up with a training schedule that works well for the both of us. I feel bad enough pulling you away from your life, and I don’t want my personal shit to bleed into what you’re going through.”

It was a kind gesture, one I appreciated, but he needed to get over it. I told him in so many words that I was happy to help him.

“Trust me,” I said. “If I didn’t want to do this then we wouldn’t be talking.”

Jimin seemed to like my bluntness and I was fond of his over-analytical anxiety. The way he fidgeted reminded me of Namjoon, his forward and direct confrontation of his emotions and needs so strikingly similar it made it nearly impossible for me to dislike him. I don’t think a person alive could dislike this man. 

“I can be in Ann Arbor next week,” Jimin had gone on another rant about inconveniencing me and I shut it down. “Everything here is already squared away. We can discuss it more later, how does that sound?”

He smiled wearily, his nerves causing him to squirm in his seat. 

“I’m really looking forward to working with you, Y/N.”

I hoped my expression looked as sincere as I felt, “I’ll take care of you, kiddo.”

Pulling a face, Jimin laughed heartily. Triumphant, I smiled brazenly, his laughter contagious. I made a note to pull out a few age jokes now and then if it meant making him smile like that. 

“I’m an adult man, I’ll have you know,” He was still laughing.

“Could’ve fooled me,” I teased.

“We’re going to get along just fine,” He seemed more confident than ever, and it warmed my heart. “Let me know when you’re expected to get here. Do you have my number?”

We exchanged our contact details. After days of talking over email, I finally found a smiley face emoji in my notifications, a Michigan area code attached. Saving his number, I replied with the old woman emoji earning myself another laugh. 

“Talk to you later, Park.”

“See you, coach.”

I left the meeting, my chest much lighter after talking to him. He was a sweet man and not half bad to look at. I was a few years older but not disgustingly so, and he was more than available from the sound of things. Realizing the direction my thoughts were going in, I stood up from the chair to start writing out some drills and scheduling prototypes. Before I could get out of the door, however, my phone vibrated in my hand.

Jimin: 👶

I did not respond until I had my flight booked.

Me: I’m flying in on Tuesday. Know a good place to stay?

He replied a few minutes later.

Jimin: Do you need a lot of space?

Me: Not really

Jimin: One of my neighbors has their mother-in-law suite for rent. I could probably cut you a good deal with them.

I smiled. He really was a sweetheart. 

Me: Thank you. And no deals. I can pay for myself.

Jimin: My mother would be very upset if I didn’t at least try.

Jimin: I was raised to respect the elderly.

I laughed out loud, thoroughly amused. I had a feeling he was testing the waters after I poked fun at him earlier. Jimin was probably used to the stick stuck up Hamilton’s ass. He was in for a treat. At the pool I was cool and collected but I could cut up with the best of them. 

Me: Sorry, couldn’t hear you over the sound of my hip breaking

I was practically giddy with excitement waiting for his response. It had been such a long time since someone joked around with me like this. Hoseok tried but he was awful at taking a joke, so I stopped poking the bear. It was refreshing and all too familiar. 

Jimin: I’ll get you one of those life alerts just in case.

Was he flirting with me? Did I care? Shrugging, I went along with it. I would remain strictly professional while we worked together, but if things developed after that I would let them. Happily. I barely knew this guy, but I remember this feeling. It was the first time since Joon’s death that it showed itself to me and I wanted to hold onto it.

First work then play, I told myself. 

Who knows? This little bit of infatuation could fade just as quickly as it came, and I would leave Ann Arbor with a new friend instead. Might even be able to score a steady job with the kid if things worked out. My life in Colorado would remain untouched, my friends happily accepting a new kid in the group when he came to visit, and my house just as bare and empty as it always had been. The years continuing to pass me by.

I tried not to think about why that thought made me want to cry.

“I told you I’m fine,” I sighed into the phone, waiting at the baggage claim for my things. “You’re in rare form today.”

Andrea laughed, the sound slightly hysterical and I winced. That was the wrong thing to say, but she was driving me insane. I had traveled around the world multiple times, and she was acting like Michigan was going to kill me.

“Well excuse me for worrying,” Andy bit back, her tone clipped and harsh.

“I’m sorry,” I heaved one of my bags off the conveyor belt. “I know you’re just looking out for me, but I promise you I’m fine Andrea. You’ll be my first phone call if that changes.”

The other bag finally popped up and I quickly snatched it. Slinging the large duffle bag over my shoulder, I adjusted it until it rested comfortably on my shoulders. Lifting the handlebar off my large suitcase, I drug it behind me while I followed the signs for the exit. Jimin said he arranged for someone to pick me up but did not specify who. He was busy with a few interviews this morning and could not get me himself. He had been very disappointed about it.

“I know I’m nagging,” Andy groaned. “Scratch that. I’m acting like a total helicopter parent.”

I laughed, “Your husband had been even worse. The man tried to book me a charter flight because he was worried about my leg in an airport. What the fuck does that even mean?”

Everyone had been super happy for me, especially my team. Those boys almost cried when I told them who I was helping out and Jordan begged me to bring him back something autographed. None of them seemed as familiar with my own background but I was fine with that. All of them took to Hoseok rather well, except for Marcus who made me swear to come back before school let out. I did not tell them I was planning to make monthly trips to give Jimin some space with his mom. I was sure that surprise would go over very, very well.

Despite his indifference when I was first talking about the job, Seokjin became an overprotective dad as soon as I made him aware my flights were booked. He was quick to cancel them and put in a few calls of his own. Jin was an operations manager for Delta airlines and knew plenty of pilots. He was able to get me a plane to land in Willow Run out in Ypsilanti, but I quickly intervened and told him a normal flight was perfect. I rebooked my tickets and flew into Detroit Metro at 10 am.

Andy snorted, “He means well.”

It was snowing in Michigan, and I was finally hit with the realization that I would be seeing far more of it here than I ever did back in Colorado. It was only mid-September, so it was still light and melted away quickly. I would have to ask Jimin if it stayed this calm into December, but I had a feeling things would pick up by late November. 

It was a very cold morning in Detroit, and I was excited to get into a heated car. Getting off the phone with Andy, I quickly sent Jimin a quick text message letting him know I was outside and looking for my ride. A loud honk made my jump, almost dropping my phone in the process.

Pulled up at the curb was a navy-blue Volkswagen Beetle. I could tell from its body that it was an older model, and it was a convertible. Sitting behind the wheel was a little old lady, a pair of gardening gloves on her hands and a pair of large, hexagon sunglasses taking up most of her face. Her face was familiar, and it hit me. Sitting behind that wheel was Jimin’s mother. 

She smiled at me and waved, beckoning me closer to the little car. I forced myself to smile back. My nerves made it feel damn near impossible, but I managed. Opening the door, I did not know where to put my things. The backseat was so small.

“There’s a lever on that side that’ll push it up. You should be able to get everything to fit if you try hard enough.”

Fumbling around, I finally found the little handle and pulled up. The seat lurched forward, folding in on itself, and I clumsily shoved my suitcase into the backseat. It smelled like stale cigarettes and fake pine, but when you had a car this old it usually had history. I was excited to pick up my new car from the dealership. My Porsche already had a difficult time driving around Colorado and I did not think it would survive the heavy winters in Michigan, so I decided to leave it home and get an Altima. I had the money and could easily get rid of it. Tilly had been talking about needing an upgrade. 

Finally managing to get both bags into the backseat, I put the seat back and got into the car. Closing the door, I sighed in content. The heaters were at full blast and pointed directly at my cold face. Buckling my seatbelt, I leaned back and tried to relax after the long day of flying. Jimin’s mother pulled off the curb.

“It’s cold out there,” She laughed, her voice just as sickeningly sweet as her son’s. “Glad you were able to make it okay.”

I nodded, “I’m surprised to see it snowing so early. We don’t usually get anything until closer to Thanksgiving.”

“Colorado, right?” I could hear a faint accent and I remembered that Jimin was first-generation Korean American. Both of his parents moved to the states before he and his brother were born. Media outlets loved talking about it, but I was not sure how much he enjoyed discussing his personal life. While he came off as a sweet and mild-mannered man, he kept his personal life private. “I’ve heard it’s very pretty.”

“It is. Too expensive, but very, very pretty.”

Then she was fiddling around with the radio, and I finally cracked a genuine smile. I was not sure how much work had been done on her car, but I was positive the sound system had been completely redone. A brand-new radio, complete with a touch screen and Bluetooth, lit up at the touch of her fingers. A man’s voice serenaded us through the updated speakers, and I was in awe at how beautiful it sounded. I assumed he was speaking Korean and Jimin’s mother sang along fluently. 

“What’s your name again?” She asked once the song was over. Another, more upbeat song started, and she increased the volume. “Jimin told me but I’m horrible with that sort of thing. I’m Na-Yeon, but Audrey works if it’s easier for you.”

I pulled a face, “Audrey?”

“It’s my American name. It’s easier for people to pronounce and more convenient. All of us have one. Jimin’s is Christian.”

It was odd to think about. A name that was mine but not mine. Christian did not suit Jimin, but I could imagine growing up with a name that other people made fun of would be difficult. Maybe even impossible. Still, I did not feel comfortable calling the woman Audrey. She did not seem to particularly care for the name and I did not want to alienate myself from their circle for convenience's sake.

Namjoon’s mother had been similar to Na-Yeon, always afraid her culture and customs would make me uncomfortable or burdened, but I managed to calm her fears and reassure her after years of showing up to Chuseok with a smile on my face and food in my hands.

“I like Na-Yeon,” I finally replied, voice small. “It’s nice. I’m Y/N.”

“I like Y/N,” She echoed back to me, making me grin. “It’s nice.”

It was a long drive filled with K-pop, ballads, and sporadic conversation. Na-Yeon was very funny. She sang along to every song, dancing as she went, and calling on me to sing alone. Of course, I could not speak Korean very well and hummed the melodies instead, but it appeased her. When she did speak to me it was to ask me questions about myself. 

“You’re that swimmer, aren’t you?” She asked, sparing me a look once we stopped at a redlight. “The one everyone’s trying to beat.”

I shook my head, “At one time, sure, but not anymore. I’m retired.”

Squinting her eyes at me, Na-Yeon pursed her lips. 

“We used to watch you. Haru called you a mermaid.”

 That was not too much of a shock. Jimin was swimming at that time. While I am a few years older than him, he would have been in middle school when I went to my first Olympics. He had told me he joined the swim team the year before. He said that watching Michael Phelps win 6 gold medals changed his life forever, and I could not help but agree with him. I had a huge amount of respect for my fellow Olympian and wished him well in his retirement. What shocked me the most was the mention of Jimin’s little brother. The dead brother.

“That’s sweet,” I did not know what to say. “I felt like a mermaid back then. I’m not that good anymore but I still like to swim sometimes.”

“You were in an accident,” It was not a question. “We saw it all over the news. Couldn’t believe all of those people harassing your family like that. So sorry for your loss.”

It was strange to talk about it again. I appreciated her keeping it vague. I had gone through a tremendous amount of change and growth since then, but it was nice to hear someone else validate how crazy the media frenzy was. I would not wish it upon anyone, and I was happy her family was allowed to grieve in peace. Neither Namjoon’s nor my own were allowed that luxury.

“Thank you,” I replied. “I’m sorry about Haru. I can’t imagine what your family went through.”

She smiled sadly, “I think you can.”

We did not talk much after that. The music still played, Na-Yeon still sang, and I still hummed, but we did not ask any more questions. Neither one of us wanted to bring up those hurt feelings. It was not until we turned down a long, empty road that I realized I had yet to ask her about her cancer. 

“Are you feeling okay?” I asked.

“As good as I can,” She breathed. “My boys are both worriers so don’t take anything they say to heart. Bunch of hypochondriacs.”

And even though I laughed along with her, I knew that she was lying. They were not overreacting. She was sick, refusing treatments, and letting herself die. Anyone would be worried about her. Na-Yeon must dislike being taken care of. Well, I thought she would need to get used to it. I loved spoiling others. 

“Eloise and the kids must be here,” She muttered to herself, pulling to a short driveway. 

I did not know who Eloise was, but I would soon find that out. There were two cars parked out front. One was a simple, black Tahoe with a brightly colored steering wheel cover. The other was another vintage model. Painted a pretty light, muted green the truck was in pristine condition. It was an old Ford, the branding written across the tailgate, and a spare tire was bolted to the side. I asked Na-Yeon about it and she smiled happily.

“It’s Jimin’s,” I felt my heart rate increase. “He must’ve gotten back. Pretty thing, huh?”

I nodded, not really paying attention to the truck anymore. I was about to meet Jimin for the first time and my nerves were taking over. I knew how much his looks affected me over video chat and I was afraid I would not be able to control my facial expressions in person. I was resolute not to act on whatever attraction I may have felt toward him. My professionalism would not allow it. It did not mean, however, that I wanted to discuss it with Jimin at any point. It would make him uncomfortable and affect our working environment. 

“Keep your bags in the car,” Na-Yeon told me. “Jimin’s going to take you over to meet the Andersons this afternoon.”

Walking up to the house, I was first struck by two things. The main one being the impressive teal it was painted and the other the loud talking and laughter coming from inside. It was odd. Thinking about my own parents I knew we had never been so happy. Mom had left when I was so young that I could hardly remember her, but I could recall the screaming and shouting. Dad was quiet after she left, spent most of his time locked away in the garage watching sports channels and leaving me to my own devices. 

When I started swimming it helped for a time, but when I was old enough to leave, we spoke two or three times a year. After he met Danielle, his new wife, he stopped reaching out altogether. The accident had spooked him enough to warrant holiday and birthday calls for a time, but when he had another baby those slowly faded away. My half-sister and I had never met, Danielle did not like acknowledging that my dad had a child with another woman, and it seemed as though my dad was fine with how things turned out. I dealt with it.

The laughing echoed through the house, and I could hear loud foot-steps pitter pattering on the tile floors. The house smelled heavily of kimchi and lemons making my heart ache. Joon and I used to keep the windows open for days after his mother came over to make kimchi with him. We would squat on the floor for hours, laughing and talking. I missed those days more than I realized and I smiled involuntarily. For the first time in years, it felt like coming home.

“Sorry about the smell,” Na-Yeon whispered to me. 

I shook my head and took my shoes off. “I love kimchi.”

She smiled brightly, her shoulders immediately relaxing. I was glad I had spent so much time with Namjoon and his family. Na-Yeon was someone who wanted to make others feel more comfortable even if it put her own peace at risk, but I would never ask her to change her routine for me. I loved learning about other people and her little house brought me more happiness than I thought possible. 

“Sounds like we have company!”

A short, stocky man came into the living room. He was wearing a white polo shirt and khaki shorts; his hair was very short with silver streaks starting to take over the once very black strands. Catching sight of me he smiled. 

“You must be Y/N,” The man said. “I’m James.”

His accent was much thicker than Na-Yeon’s and he introduced himself in his English name. He seemed much happier about it than his wife did, and I decided to go along with it. If he wanted me to call him James, then I would.

“Nice to meet you,” I replied, giving him a small bow.

His smile got even bigger somehow, and he returned the gesture. Na-Yeon chuckled beside me and started to speak to her husband in Korean. I picked up a few words and deduced that he was supposed to make sure I was going to get a nice lunch, and she wanted to know if he had taken care of it. He nodded and told her he had.

“Hungry?” James asked, Na-Yeon already disappearing into the house.

“Yes,” I quickly followed behind him.

“I made jjigae,” He frowned. “I can’t say it in English. Sorry.”

The house was small and warmly lit. Cream tile flooring, exposed wood beams, and white walls. Whatever loud conversation they had been having before I got here had died down, but the footsteps did not. I could hear children giggling somewhere in the little home and my curiosity peaked. I did not think they were Na-Yeon and James’s.

“I want to say it’s soup,” I kept my voice down not wanting to make him feel awkward. “Or stew, but I don’t think it matters that much.”

“What’s the difference?” James asked, just as amused as his wife at my vague knowledge of Korean words. “Soup and stew the same, no?”

I shrugged, “I have no clue. I’m a miserable cook.”

That made James laugh. We passed all of the rooms in the house, the kitchen, living room, and dining room all in the back of the house. As we passed the second room to the left, James said it had been Haru’s photography studio before he passed away, but they ended up converting it once Eloise gave birth. He did not say it out loud, but I had gathered the kids running around had been their youngest son’s. I did not know how old Haru had been when he died, but it was far too young to be having children. I was 31 and still felt ill equipped for the job. 

It was a small kitchen with very simple and plain colors. The countertops were obviously laminate, but someone had taken the time to stick on a marble patterning to make it look nicer. Black appliances clashed with the chestnut cabinets. The tiles were no longer cream but hideous black and white checker printed that clashed heavily against the olive-green backsplash. While the rest of the house seemed to go through renovations at some point, I had a feeling the kitchen remained largely untouched. 

Sitting at a small table on the other side of the room were Na-Yeon, Jimin, and a young woman. She was a cute girl, long brown hair and blue eyes, a large number of freckles across her cheeks. Her outfit was very modest, a pair of flowy cream pants and an equally flowy olive shirt. Her hair was tied back with a ribbon that matched her pants, and taking a closer look at her, she wore no makeup. A classic girl next door.

“Come sit,” Na-Yeon waved me over, her voice showing no room for argument. “Hyun-Soo is in charge of lunch.”

I was only briefly confused, the name completely unfamiliar, but by the time I sat down I was sure she was talking about James. It made sense for her to call him by his Korean name, and since I had shown no qualms about using their proper names, she saw no need to bring them up herself. 

“Nice to finally meet you,” Jimin’s sweet voice reached me, and I smiled at the sound. “I hope getting here wasn’t too bad.”

He reached out to me, and I happily took his hand in my own. The skin was soft, perfectly smooth, and warm. It was over far too quickly but my displeasure was easily hidden. Andrea always complained about my poker face and how difficult it was to get past it. She said it was too good and thus refused to ever play poker with me again. 

“It was nice,” I meant it. Na-Yeon was wonderful company. 

“Hope the concert was nice.”

That made me and Eloise laugh. Na-Yeon smacked Jimin’s arm playfully, unable to keep the smile off her face, and the two began to bicker. Having them in the same room highlighted the differences I hadn't noticed before. Jimin’s nose was closer to his father’s, his eyes, too, and both of them had a slight lisp. Na-Yeon’s teeth were perfectly white and straight while one of Jimin’s front teeth was slightly chipped. Jimin had a dimple; his mother had none. Their English soon turned to digs in Korean and I could no longer follow. A few words here and there but nothing substantial. James joined them.

“Hi,” Eloise shyly greeted me, obviously used to being left out of conversations.

“Hey,” I replied lamely. “Eloise?”

She nodded, “Cam and Harper are playing but you’ll meet them in a bit.”

I nodded along and cemented the names into memory. It would look bad if I forgot them and kids had an ability to remember the worst things about a person. I did not want them to dislike me this quickly. Their giggles and feet were still going, and I suspected they had their own rooms on top of the little playroom in the hall.

“What do you do for work?” I asked Eloise, hoping my attempts at small talk were going over well. The other three were still chatting and I stopped paying attention long enough to be completely lost. Their dialect was different from Namjoon’s family, and I gave up entirely once they switched in and out of it with ease. 

“I’m taking over Audrey’s restaurant,” Eloise, it seemed, preferred to use their American names. I wondered if she called Jimin ‘Christian.’ I really did not like the name for him. Not at all. “We used to be co-owners but she’s preparing for…” Eloise’s eyebrows scrunched together as she struggled to come up with a way to voice her thoughts, “her next steps. You know what I mean?”

I nodded. It was so easy to forget why I was really here when Na-Yeon was so full of life. She laughed and joked easily, sang off-key in the car without a care in the world, and called the shots at home. I had hardly noticed any sickness, but I knew better. I already figured out she hated being cared for and our trip in the car could have taken a lot of her. More than I realized.

Wanting to change the subject, I asked about the kids. Eloise was more than happy to talk about her little ones. Cameron and Harper were twins, names that she had originally been very against but when she lost Tony (Haru preferred his American name, Anthony, and all of his closest friends called him Tony), her opinions changed. Harper was the bigger, older baby, while her brother needed to stay in the NICU for a few days after birth due to his weight. They were joined at the hip and rarely seen without the other, something Eloise was happy about given she was usually too busy to spend as much time with them as she would have liked.

“How old are they?” I asked.

“Almost 4.”

Jimin was 19 then. I shuddered to think about how old Haru was, or Eloise for that matter when they became parents. When I was their age, I had been at the top of my game, though not what I would call my prime. If I had gotten pregnant my career would not have been over, but meeting Joon never would have happened. That was a travesty regardless of how things turned out. Trying to picture a life without him touching it made me physically ill and so I pushed any of those thoughts away.

Cam and Harper came out of their room when dinner was ready. They were both very cute, loud, and dressed identically. Harper’s hair was braided down her back while Cam’s was in a bowl cut, and I laughed every time the little girl made a big show about her sparkly red shoes.

James made a very spicy fish stew. It was delicious, so salty and hot, but I needed multiple glasses of water as I ate. He used red snapper adding a sweet, nutty flavor to the otherwise savory dish and I loved the zucchini. Like many Korean meals there was an array of side dishes surrounding the large pot of stew. Tonight was braised potatoes, steamed eggplant, a radish salad, and, of course, kimchi. A small bowl of rice was given to all of us to eat the stew with and the rice cooker was filled if any of us wanted more. 

The Parks were a lovely family. Jimin was quiet and did not talk to me much but his mother more than made up for his silence. After getting all of the details about my coaching job she moved on to my life back in Colorado. We talked about my friends and what they were like, my house, and even my neighbors. Na-Yeon seemed particularly interested in Hoseok since Jimin had been such a fan of his growing up. 

“You need to get her over to Calvin and Violet’s,” James told his son, scraping up the last bit of the soup out of his bowl. “They’re expecting her soon.”

Jimin looked at me, eyebrow raised, “Are you ready?”

I nodded, “We can leave whenever you’re done.”

He smiled and went back to eating his meal. Eloise left before I did, Cam was tired and Harper was bored without her playmate, so she decided it was time they went home. Cam liked an afternoon nap still, but his sister could run all day if you let her. Harper gave me a big bear hug before she left, something Na-Yeon said she did to everyone, and held her brother’s hand on their way out. 

Na-Yeon eventually got up from the table, James followed after her, leaving Jimin and I alone. I did not know what to say, if he wanted me to say anything at all. He had hardly spoken to me since I arrived, and it left me feeling out of place. I was here for him, and he wanted nothing to do with me. He kept eating, the spice unfazed him, and getting bowl after bowl of rice. 

Watching him walk around I was struck by how short he was. Most male swimmers were huge, well over 6 feet, and broadly built. Not Jimin. He could not be any taller than 5’9” with a thin, tiny waist. I could see defined muscles hidden underneath his white t-shirt, but nothing spectacular. Even his body was soft and elegant, moving gracefully and quietly, and absolutely none of it would give away that he was a world-class athlete. As if he could feel my eyes following him, Jimin’s eyes snapped to meet my own.

“Sorry,” He pulled his spoon from his mouth. “I’m sure you’d like to leave and here I am gorging myself.”

I stopped him before he could stand, “No, no. I’m fine. I was just thinking about your workout routine.”

The lie felt heavy on my tongue, but I could hear how natural it sounded. He sat back down and took another bite of his food. His workout regime was standard for most swimmers. Pull-ups, bench, squat, lunge, power cleans, power cleans to overhead press. After that he was in the pool for a few hours before going about his day. He usually added in another swim at the end of the day, but he had recently given it up to have dinner with his family. 

“What are you doing for your core?” I asked.

“I stick to pull ups, crunches, thrusts, and back extensions.”

I nodded, frowning, gears in my head turning. I have always believed the core was the most important part of swimming. Arms as well, but I have seen many overwork those muscles and lose from weak turns. Hoseok used to joke about my performance and how I only won because of my turns. I would make sure he would be able to see a little bit of me in Jimin’s swimming. There was a reason I won gold.

“You don’t look very impressed.”

I chuckled, “Just thinking. You need more variety than that.”

“Gym snob, are we?” His mouth stretched into a playful smirk, and I could not help but smile back. “You must be an animal in there.”

“I don’t work out like I used to,” I admitted, averting my eyes. “Most of my exercises are yoga and running now. I swim twice a week.”

I was hoping to get back in the pool more often, but I was not sure I was ready for the disappointment that would follow. My sessions with Emery were simple, exercise-focused, and had little to no expectations behind them. They were there to help me gain strength and confidence in myself. Saturdays were spent with Hoseok doing laps around the pool and shooting the shit. It was just enough to get your heart pumping but never went past that. 

Failing was daunting. I could not remember a time before swimming consumed my life. My dad always said I was afraid of the water; it was the biggest reason he placed me in lessons. He did not have the time (nor patience) to teach me himself, and after I saw younger children getting into the pool I was determined to act like a “big girl.” I was only three at the time, so the memory was lost to time, but I went every week after that. It gave my dad a break and I had friends for the first time. I learned later that mom had left for a few months and dad was drinking again, but at the time all I knew was that I liked swimming, and I was good at it.

It was frightening to believe that all of the time, energy, and hard work went to waste. 30 seconds. That was all it took to destroy my life. 30 seconds and all of my joy, love, and happiness was gone. My career, my health, and my Joon. I hated the man who hit us. Hated the way his family cried for me. For him. For Joon. Squeeze my hands into fists, I was glad they were hidden underneath the table. Getting in the water and realizing it was truly over would only make that hatred worsen, and my therapist told me I needed to let go of my anger.

“Violet and Calvin are excited to meet you,” I did not know if Jimin could see something in his face, perhaps my eyes, but he changed the subject. The look on his face made me feel exposed. “We should get going.”

No one was around when I left so I did not get to say goodbye, but Jimin yelled that we were leaving. We did not get a response and I wondered if his mother had actually gone to do laundry or take a nap. She looked tired when she left the table. Jimin told me to get into the truck and laughed when I said I could grab my own bags. 

“Your hip might give out, granny.”

Off guard, a strange, loud noise came out of my mouth. He had yet to start up our playful banter and my heart soared. Jimin was a very cheeky man, his tongue sharp, and with a quick snapback time, he was difficult to take down. Our text exchanges were always brief and about work, but he managed to squeeze in at least one teasing comment about my age. He said calling him ‘kiddo’ is what started the whole thing.

“Just get in the truck,” He sighed melodramatically, rolling his eyes.

Huffing, I went across the lawn and got into the unlocked truck on the curb. The interior was just as refurbished as the exterior. The bench was covered in a dark green vinyl, and I could tell the rubber carpet mats were new. It smelled much better in Jimin’s truck. Less like cigarettes and more like the cologne he wore. It was floral, powdery, but with a subtle spice that made it bitter-sweet. It had a nice scent. It suited a man like Jimin whose own spice was buried underneath his pretty visage. 

Watching him jog across the yard, I suppressed a sigh. It was easier to ignore how pretty he was when we were around other people. Now it felt impossible. His clothes stuck to him like a second skin, the black leather pants (which I had only just noticed were leather) making his thighs bulge and accentuating his backside. He was gorgeous and I felt sorry that I would have to keep it to myself. Jimin deserved to be told things like that, but it was not my place to do so. Not as a coach, trainer, or otherwise.

He tossed my things into the cab of the truck as if they weighed nothing. Arms lifted; his shirt rose revealing a delicious patch of skin. Watching him in the rearview mirror, I swallowed audibly. A thin, almost nonexistent patch of hair touched his belly button. Forcing myself to look away, I took a few deep breaths.

This trip was going to be long. Very, very long. 

The drive down the road was quiet. Jimin’s radio was out, and he needed to replace it, so music was not an option, and he did not seem to want to fill the space between us. Neither did I. My growing bashfulness around him was distracting and strange. I had always been surrounded by attractive men, all of my friends back home were very good looking, but none affected me in the same way Jimin had. Perhaps it was due to my relationship with Namjoon that made all of the other men pale in comparison, but I could never know for sure. Either way, it was incredibly frustrating.

We drove for less than ten minutes. Calvin and Violet were the elderly couple renting out the small house in their backyard. Jimin had spoken to them for me, and they were all too willing to help me out. Violet nearly cried when I told her I was going to pay all of my rent up front, and actually did when I told her that I would help her fix up some things around the house while I was in town. The Andersons seemed like lovely people, and I was happy to know them.

Pulling up to the house I smiled. It was exactly how I imagined it would be. The Anderson house was a simple, All-American home with a front porch. The window trimming was black, house white, and a beautiful garden wrapped around the front at either side. The roof and front door were the same color green as Jimin’s truck, and it helped the otherwise unnoteworthy home feel more inviting. Sitting on the porch swing was Violet, her silver hair braided down her shoulder.

“Before we get out,” Jimin mumbled, waving at Violet through my window. The old woman waved back, a large smile on her face making her look twenty years younger. “The Andersons are great people, but Calvin’s starting to forget stuff. Violet won’t admit it but it’s getting hard on her to deal with him. He can become very angry so keep an ear out. Last time he had an episode, Violet called my dad crying. She’s not handling it well.”

I frowned, my heart hurting, “Sure thing. I’ll let you know if anything happens.”

“Thanks.”

He was out of the car a few seconds later, voice so sweet and bubbly you would have never guessed what we had been talking about. Staring after him, my eyes squinted. I would have to keep my eye on him. Jimin was a great actor.

Getting out of the truck, I took out my bags and slung my duffle on my back. Jimin was quick to take my suitcase away once he caught me in the corner of his eye. Violet seemed positively giddy about it and made a few inappropriate comments about Jimin needing to settle down.

“I’m just saying,” She laughed when Jimin scoffed, face flushing the prettiest shade of pink. “You’re going to make a young woman very happy. Might as well get started.”

It was strange to think about my trainee seeing someone. He had made it very clear in his interviews over the years that his dating life was on hold until he was finished swimming. He did not want the added distraction and his family life was far too chaotic for him to focus on someone. This did not seem to deter Violet and her comments about his love life, or lack thereof, continued until we got inside of the house.

“Well,” Violet acknowledged me for the first time since I arrived, “This is the main house. It’s not much but it’ll work. Christian, take her stuff out back.”

I cringed. It really did not suit Jimin at all, but he seemed completely unfazed. Violet used his names interchangeably, sometimes calling him Jimin and other times Christian, but his English name rolled off her tongue more often than not. I wondered why she even bothered calling him Jimin at all. He did not seem to care either way.

Looking around the little house, I was pleasantly surprised by how clean it all was. The floors were carpeted and the walls a bright white, family photos hung up alongside landscape paintings. During my two-hour phone call with Violet, the woman talked my ear off, she bragged about Calvin’s art. I had to admit they were all very beautiful and I wanted to know where he had found all of the slices of heaven he captured. I hoped the places themselves were more colorful than he depicted. The muted washes of color made them blend in with the rest of the boring house even with how nice they were.

The furniture was just as boring as the house itself. All of it was cream or beige, nothing of importance really stuck out to me, and I was disappointed. All I could figure out about the couple was one was an artist and they had children and grandchildren they loved displaying. Even the smell of the house lacked character. No air freshener, no food, and no perfumes. Nothing to give away that people actually lived here. The Anderson home was a foil to the Park’s in every way.

“Come on out back,” Violet was already across the house, standing in front of a door beside the kitchen. “This is the utility room. You can do your laundry here.”

Following behind her, I felt even more depressed looking at her kitchen. It was nice, new appliances and a pretty coffee station on the corner closest to the utility room door, but it was bland. All white cabinets, white marble countertops, and stainless steel everything. Even the curtains hanging around the windows above the sink were dreadfully plain.

The utility room, like everything else, was plain. The washer and dryer were white, the floor concrete, and the shelving barebones. The detergent was the most colorful thing I saw since arriving. Somehow even this room smelled like absolutely nothing. Directly across from the door we entered was the backdoor and Violet told me where they would hide a key for me to be able to get inside.

“Ready to see it?” She asked, smiling politely. 

I nodded, “Thanks again for renting it out to me.”

She chuckled, “No thanks needed. You were paying, that was enough for me to say yes.”

The back porch was tiny, just barely big enough for the both of us to stand on. There was a small vegetable garden along the side of the house, but it was empty. Noticing my wandering eyes, Violet told me all about the turnips and gourds she had been planting this season. She had watermelon and tomatoes in the summer, but they were long gone. The rest of the yard was taken up by my home for the next few months.

It was small, but that was to be expected. What disappointed me, though I should have not been very surprised, was how white it was. The windows were a dark gray, a small porch was set up with enough room for one of those hanging egg chairs, and two built-in planters. They were empty and Violet told me I was welcome to give gardening a chance if I was interested. She was planning on growing some flowers eventually, but she was not sure what she wanted.

The front door was open, Jimin already inside, and Violet and I went in. There was a small entryway, two doors leading to rooms I would explore later, and a small shoe rack. I took mine off and put them up. Violet watched me and took hers off as well.

“Audrey told me I should put one in here,” I was learning that Violet enjoyed meaningless small talk. “Glad I did. Don’t think Christian took his shoes off, though.”

I shrugged, “No biggie. I was going to clean up around here anyway.”

The house opened up to my right and I was happy with the space. I had a fully functional kitchen and enough space for my coffee cabinet along the wall. The living room would be able to fit a small loveseat, television, and coffee table. It was white and plain, but I was very happy with the floors. Whoever picked out the dark vinyl flooring must have had me in mind. I would go crazy if this place was as sterile as the Andersons’.

“I put your stuff in your room.”

Turning I grinned at Jimin. It was sweet of him to help me out. I was going to pick up my car tomorrow morning and he had volunteered to drive me. We would be starting our training next week so I could have some time to settle in. All of my furniture was arriving either tomorrow or the day after and my hands would be full. I was counting on Jimin and his friends to help me unpack. His manager was going to make himself known as well, but would not be staying for long. Apparently, according to Jimin, Sejin was not one to get his hands dirty.

“Thank you.”

“I’ll let you get settled in,” Violet was already scratching to leave, and I wondered why. She had been very hospitable over the phone. “You’re welcome to join us for dinner. Calvin is going to bring the air mattress out here tonight, so you have someplace to sleep.”

With a kiss on Jimin’s cheek, Violet slipped on her flats and left. Alone with Jimin again, I found it hard to speak. We were much better over text. Looking just as lost as I was, Jimin scratched the back of his neck and looked down. 

“My, uh, my mom offered you her couch if you want it,” He stuttered, his face turning red. “Or, uh, um, you can take the spare room at my place,” He let out a huge gust of wind. “It’s a bit of a drive but I do have the space.”

Flustered, I quickly declined, “Thanks but I’ll be fine here.”

“Oh, yeah,” Jimin shook his head, the redness spreading down his neck. “For sure. Totally.”

The air was awkward now and I could not figure out how to fix it. Jimin was the one always breaking the ice between us, and now that he was acting like this I was stranded at sea. Even when he warned me he was more reserved in person I had not expected this. He was so quiet and skittish. How was I supposed to work with him if I could not get the courage to speak?

“Thanks for the offer,” I cleared my throat. “Are you staying for dinner?”

He shook his head, “I promised Jungkook we’d go out tonight. Any other time I’d say yes.”

I asked my disappointment. The thought of spending time with Violet and Calvin alone made me deeply uncomfortable. Their house felt like a hospital room and her weird behavior was unsettling. I could only hope Calvin was nicer but from what Jimin said he was a ticking time bomb. It would be nice to have someone act as a buffer.

“Why was she acting so strangely?” I asked, hoping Jimin had picked up on it as well. “It was like a totally different person.”

He frowned, “I think she’s just on edge since Calvin went to the doctor’s today. Their daughter took him, and she hasn’t heard anything. She’s a sweet woman, don’t worry.”

Now I felt like an asshole.

“That’s understandable,” I murmured. “Do you think she’ll be upset if I order food for all of us? If she’s stressed out, I don’t want her feeling like she has to cook for me.”

Jimin smiled, “She would appreciate it. I’ll go talk to her, how does that sound?”

I nodded, grateful. “That would be nice. The house gives me the creeps.”

That made him laugh, “What? Why?”

I shrugged, giggling with him. 

“Feels like a funeral home or something. I hate the minimalist aesthetic.”

Jimin bit his lip, “You’d probably hate my place, too, then.”

I chuckled. It was easy to imagine Jimin inside of a huge modern house, dark wood and barely anything in it. He was a single man, busy, and spent so much time at his parent’s house it did not matter what he had inside of his own place. Not wanting to make him self conscious, I bit my tongue. 

“I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

He cocked his head to the side, and I laughed.

“Fine,” I conceded. “I would probably dislike it, but I don’t think it looks like a white padded cell.”

I may have been exaggerating a bit, but it was not that far off from how the Anderson home looked to me. I hoped by asking me to help fix up a few things, Violet meant giving the house a much-needed makeover. If I was lucky, I might be able to convince her to get a few throw pillows to break up the monotony.

“Jeez,” Jimin laughed. “Harsh critic.”

“Well, is it?” I joked, glad to have found our footing again.

“No,” He shook his head in thought. “It’s mostly gray and black, but still just as empty. Probably emptier, honestly. I don’t have as many pictures as Violet does.”

Smirking, he snapped his fingers, “My trophy room is pretty colorful. I have a lot of pictures and shit in there.”

That made me smile. I was not bringing any of my memorabilia here, but it was nice to hear him sound so proud of himself. I kept most of my competition stuff in my basement, a large China cabinet displaying all of my awards. My favorite had to be the small, cheaply made trophy sat at the very top. It was beside my Olympic medals, worn and dull beside the beautiful necklaces, but I loved it all the same. 

It was the first trophy I ever won. I was seven and my dad convinced me to sign up for a swimming competition my swim class was hosting. He promised to come. I practiced a lot preparing for it and made use of the new above ground pool my dad had bought. I won the race. My own joy and happiness made me forget that he never showed up until it was time to go home. I had to wait with my coach for two hours, and by the end of it she felt so bad for me she took me out for ice cream. Dad never apologized, I don’t even think he acknowledged that I won at all, and I never tried to bring it up again. Still, I loved that stupid thing. It was the reason I wanted to compete. That little pocket of happiness between winning and realizing that no one cared was precious to me and I held onto it. 

“I need to get going,” Jimin sighed, reaching into his back pocket and snapping me out of my thoughts. “Jungkook’s blowing up my phone. Just got broken up with and needs a drinking buddy.”

I sucked in air through my teeth, “Well, your services are needed. Don’t let me hold you up.”

Jimin smiled at me, “See you tomorrow, yeah?”

I nodded, “See you.”

He lingered in the entryway for a moment more before shaking out of whatever trance he had been in. Slipping his converse back on, Jimin waved at me before walking outside. His face was buried in his phone, so he never saw me wave back. He shut the door, the sound echoing in the empty house, and I was once again left alone.

Violet came out a few minutes later to discuss take out until we finally landed on pizza. She never said thank you, but her offer to give the tip since I was paying was more than enough. Then later when a few of my boxes came in early she happily carried them to me. She even helped me put everything away. When Calvin came home, she led me back inside and said with so much affection it made my heart melt.

"Calvin, this is Y/N. Sweetest woman I ever did meet. Bought us dinner."

Calvin reminded me of Namjoon in a way. His soft eyes and gentle voice. He took my hand when I introduced myself, his hands cold and soft. Wrinkles and sunspots went up the length of his arms.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," He said.

"Likewise," I replied.

We ate in silence, the three of us watching Jeopardy on the sofa. Even though I had been nervous about eating inside, Calvin's presence warmed the place up. Once a prison now felt like a poorly decorated home. A home filled with love.

As I watched them together, Calvin reaching out for Violet's hand and her giving it to him without question, I felt myself getting choked up. There had been a time I had that. Joon would be on the floor, book in his lap, while my hands were in his hair as I studied my training tapes.

I left early that night. I blew up the mattress, the house quiet, before sending out a few texts to my friends to let them know I was getting on alright. After that, I put on nature sounds to help me drift off to sleep. I had not felt this lonely in a very long time.

Taglist: @ownthesunshine @screamertannie @lovelytaes-blog @pernesianparapio

© chimcess, 2024. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[selfishdoll]

❛ a lesson...❜ ━━ ft. vamp! sukuna

SUMMARY ೀ ׅ ۫ . ㅇ

humans & vampires weren’t all that different huh? sukuna taking it upon himself to ghost you after the intense and quite addictive night he gave you. with a month of radio silence you decided to move on, you had no loyalty to him after all. except, the moment sukuna saw you in the lap of a vampire that wasn’t him.. he was beyond pissed off.

CONTENT WARNING ೀ ׅ ۫ . ㅇ

sukuna ghosting (rockstar life fr) | jealous! sukuna | possessiveness | biting as a way of marking | rough sex | oral sex (f. receiving) | degradation (use of the word slut) | praise | ooc sukuna ofc i’m not gege | multiple orgasms | dumbification | sukuna having conflicted feelings | ‘fwb’ to lovers | blood drinking ofc | mean dom! sukuna | he mocks your moans | etc. if i forgot something please inform me.

NOTE ೀ ׅ ۫ . ㅇ

i guess vampire sukuna is plaguing my mind much more then i thought. this is a continuation of the “favorite groupie” fic. enjoy & as always, please excuse any typos or grammar mistakes.

Were you obsessed? Maybe delusional? How exactly could sex have such an impact on you? When left unintended your mind would drift, flashbacks of Sukuna absolutely ruining you plaguing your mind. How he effortlessly pulled orgasms out of your tiring body, the dirty words that bordered on mean, and yet giving you the sweetest kisses as if he wasn’t plowing you into the cushions. That night changed the trajectory of your life— as dramatic as it sounded.

You struggled letting him go, wanting nothing more than to lock your hand around his wrist and tug him back to you. But, that would be far too greedy. Besides the vampire promised to visit your city, visit you after the last few days of the tour. You had no reason to disbelieve him, waiting so patiently for his return.

However, one week turned into two, and then so on until an entire month passed with no sign of him. He had your number, your social media— yet any message you sent was never read.

Sukuna’s attempt to prove that him and any human man were different was disproved rather quickly given his ghosting. You were upset, embarrassed and frankly pissed off. You felt as if some special thing to you was snatched away without care or your say. Granted you aren’t obligated to sex, but still. You were allowed to be mad, right?

Mad enough that you decided to seek someone else out— another vampire. Sukuna wasn’t totally special, it just had to be his species, you tried to convince yourself while aggressively gliding the tube of gloss across your lips. You smacked them together, assuring the delicate colors look perfect upon your two-toned lips. For attire you wore something simple; a black pleated mini skirt, a white top, black fishnets, and nice boots.

You hummed along to the music surrounding the bedroom as you delicately pulled the gold plated necklace of your name around your neck. Assuring it was in perfect place, you took one last look at yourself in the vanity before nodding.

Perfection.

Your attention was directed elsewhere the moment a honk came from outside, your hands moving quickly to grab your phone and purse. You rushed out of your bedroom, down the stairs, and out your house— locking the door on the way out. You grinned at your best friend rolling down her window, cat calling you like some pervert.

“Stop..” You hissed softly, opening the passenger seat door and entering the vehicle. Closing the door, you reached for your seatbelt. The other woman pulled the car out of park the moment the seatbelt clicked, pulling out of your driveway and down the road.

“Can’t believe you had one taste and now you’re a verified fang-banger.” Your friend spoke, grinning the moment she heard you suck your teeth. “Yet you were the one to always make fun of me.”

You rolled your eyes, leaning against the door with your palm holding your cheek. “Whatever.. just be happy I tried it.” You spoke, smiling at the chuckle that escaped your friend.

The rest of the car ride was filled with music flowing from the radio and conversation from your lips; anticipating how the night would end. You needed this, deserved this you continually told yourself. Sukuna had his chance, and he fucked up. You weren’t gonna wait for some drummer that probably had multiple women a day.

No matter how much the thought stung.

The two of you reached the bar rather quickly, a new one— different from where Malevolence played that faithful night. You breathed, pulling the mirror down and staring at your reflection; flurrying the chest length boho braids. A hum escaped you the moment you were satisfied, closing up the mirror and turning to exit the car.

Your friend was right behind you, shutting your doors at the same time and waltzing over to the bar interest; arms locked. Reaching the door, you flashed your cards to the vampire occupying the threshold— him giving the information a quick once over before nodding with a toothy smile.

“Welcome, ladies.” With a wink he sent you to off, stepping to allow you inside. You entered the bar, smiling and looking around. It was simple, similar to the first one you went to. But different— given Sukuna wasn’t here.

The two of you made a beeline for the barstools, sliding on top of them and ordering two shots each. You turned in your seat, looking around the area. “Hm..” You hummed softly, leaning to rest your cheek into your hand. “How do you tell which vampires want to fuck you and which ones want to eat you?”

You friend snorted, sliding the shots closer to your forms the moment they were placed down. “That’s what makes it so fun, (Y/N).” She replied, lifting a shot.

You rolled your eyes at her claim, reaching for your own and clinking the glasses together. You threw back the shot easily, smoothing a finger across your lip to catch any droplet of alcohol. You resumed your scanning, searching for someone that popped out within the sea of vampires and humans. Your eyes finally landed on someone. He was handsome, decently so; adoring a shaved haircut and dressed in black.

Your gazes locked, you giving a small smile before turning back to the bar, grasping your second shot. You downed it, pulling back and hissing as the alcohol burned your throat. A good burn, one you felt was melting your restraints away slowly. You gently pressed your lips together, savoring the taste of the alcohol.

Which was interrupted the moment another glass was placed infront of you, your eyes switching over to the bartender; question clear on your features. He flashed you a simple smile in return, hands focused on cleaning a glass. “The gentleman over there.”

You turned to where the worker had motioned, eyes landing on the man you were just staring down. He lifted his glass to you, lips curled to showcase pearly white fangs. You smiled back, turning to your best friend. “Free drinks?” You spoke in a low tone, fingers curling around the shot glass.

Your friend snickered, coming close. “Better get your ass over there before he finds someone else to spoil.” She drawled, gently shouldering you.

Ignoring the nagging feeling, the anxiety; you stood, pressing the bottom of your skirt down and grabbing your shot. You moved towards the man, careful not to step on toes or bump into someone. Finally you approached him, stepping so you were just two feet away.

An acrylic tapped against the glass, smiling down at him. “Thanks for the drink.” You mused sweetly, lifting it to your lips and taking a sip. The man sat up a bit, legs spreading and rocking slightly.

“Anything for you.” He spoke, head tilting as his eyes not so secretly danced down your form. Satisfaction was clear in his face, placing his cup down on the table beside him. “Need a seat?” He questioned, smoothing his hand down his thigh, eyebrows rose.

Your lidded eyes followed his large hand, a coy smile plastered on your features. With a lean you were placing your empty glass to the side, stepping between his legs and sitting down on his thigh. His arm snaked around your waist, securing his hand there so you didn’t slide off. “So sweet.. are vampires always so polite?”

He chuckled at your words, “I can’t speak for all of us, but I— am a gentleman.”

“Clearly.” You spoke, leaning closer. Conversation between you and this stranger, filling the air endlessly. Your eyes would follow the way his tongue glided across those pointed fangs, clearly desperate to bite you.. maybe more. The thought caused excitement to brew, though wondering why he was hesitating. Was there a clear reason?

There was. Or rather, his hesitation came from a person currently staring the two of you down.

Red eyes were fixated on the scene, various emotions swirling in its gaze. Sukuna couldn’t believe the disgusting sight before him, rather he didn’t want to. The moment you entered the bar he was staring, watching the way your plump ass would peek out under that poor excuse of a skirt, your lips against the glass, and so much more. The glass of alcohol infront of him was long forgotten, completely focused on you and nothing else.

The vampire wondered whether to approach you, or rather how to. You were bound to be upset given his month’s absence, probably even ignore his presence. So for now he sat glued to his seat, running through his mind for the perfect words. During his little dilemma you had risen from your seat, switching over to someone.

Some vampire. Some vampire that wasn’t him.

If he knew any better Sukuna would think you were doing this to get back at him. But you hadn’t even noticed him, despite the way his eyes were basically burning holes into the back of your head. You were so focused on him, on that poor excuse of a replacement. The man could feel his annoyance grow, eyebrows pushed close with his hand closed tight.

Why was Sukuna so pissed? It wasn’t hard for him to get his dick wet; just previously being interrupted by some random groupie — which he declined rather harshly. So why, why exactly did seeing you cozied up to some random piss him off so bad?

Sukuna didn’t know the answer to that question, which annoyed him even further.

Your hands trailed down the man’s chest, humming a little to his words. You had long tuned him out, trying to figure out how to get him in a secluded place. Whilst thinking over your little plan the man suddenly stopped talking, stiffening. You blinked, pulling back to glance at his eyes; spotting them glued on something behind him. “You ok—“ You yelped the moment a tight grip wrapped around your wrist, easily being lifted from the man’s lap.

A cool arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you into a familiar body. Your heart pounded against your chest, gaze trailing from a black shirt up to Sukuna’s hardened features, knees going weak the moment you noticed the harsh glare he was giving you. You looked for snarky words, maybe even an annoyed comment; but nothing came out. With just one look the anger you felt had washed away, replaced with anticipation and want.

Sukuna took one look to the man sitting down, releasing an amused scoff. “Didn’t take you for a desperate slut, (Y/N).” He spoke freely, ignoring the way you lightly hit his chest. The vampire turned, leading you away. You tripped up a bit, quickly following, trying to keep up with his speed.

“I’m not a sl—“

“Shut up.” He murmured harshly, watching your pretty glossed lips clamp up quickly. The man lead you to the back of the bar, approaching a door. With ease he opened it, entering and releasing you to turn to lock.

You realized he lead you into some random private room, similar to the one before. Except a bed laid in the middle of it, a lamp, and a dresser. You decided not to question it, especially when his form brushed your back, hands reaching over to grip your front. Before he could speak you were turning quickly, pressing your hands against his chest.

“No, you don’t get to ghost for a month and then snatch me away from some guy you’re jealous of.”

Sukuna snarled, hands falling to the back of your thighs and tugging you flush against him. “If you think I’m jealous of him, I must not have done a good enough job at teaching you the difference between me and some other man you lay with.” He pressed forward, leading you backwards.

You scoffed a bit, ignoring the soft blankets hitting the back of your knees. “You said that for humans, he was a vampire.” You countered, flashing a small smirk. You regretted your words the moment you felt a hand leave your thigh, a small gasp escaping you as strong fingers gripped your cheeks.

“Oh, you’re right..” Sukuna mused, hand trailing to cup your chin, thumb pushing against your lips and intruding your mouth. “Guess I’ll have to drill the fucking lesson into your head then; you’ll never meet someone that can fuck you as good as I do.” His last words came out harsher, pushing to lay you out on the bed.

You attempted to press your legs closed but he was quicker, large form stepping between them all while pushing his thumb farther down your mouth; listening to the music of your gags.

“Keep your legs open, don’t even think about closing them.” Sukuna spoke, pushing at a thigh to spread you even wider. Thumb and hand still occupying your face, his other hand moved to flip your skirt up, eyes zoned in on your cunt covered by the thin fabric of your panties and fishnets. The man shook his head a little, a subtle grin taking over his face. “Such a needy thing, walking around a vamp bar with barely anything on.”

The small whine of embarrassment you released went unnoticed, Sukuna instead focusing on tugging the fishnets you wore and in one swift motion; tearing them right at the crotch. You grabbed his wrist, pulling his thumb from your mouth to let out an annoyed; “Sukuna! Don’t ruin my clothes!”

“What, you gonna do something about it?” The man dared, tugging on the thong you wore for a moment before ripping that too. He grinned at the whine that escaped you, pulling the ruined garments off your body. “Thought so. Just lay there like a good slut and take what I’m giving you.”

Two fingers glided up and down your slit, your essence slowly escaping from the gentle touches. So delicately, barely even grazing you. The vampire was fucking teasing you, spreading you open slowly before slipping his fingers away before you could even think of moving your hips. You hissed as his thumb brushed your clit, attempting to chase the feeling but him moving away far too quickly.

Your hands clung to the small shirt you wore, glossy eyes staring at the man. “Sukuna— come on..” You drawled out, a gasp of frustration escaping you the moment he pushed a finger in before removing it. Your eyes widened however the moment his palm slammed against your pussy, your back arching off the bed as the pain and pleasure mingled into a single feeling. “Fuck.. please, please—“

“Wasting all that breath begging.” Sukuna spoke lowly, hand rising to slap your pussy again. Your legs shook as his fingers caught your clit, walls fluttering around nothing as your arousal continued to trickle down. Your whines were music to his ears, pushing your thigh once again before you could close your legs. “Needy fucking pussy..” The man murmured, fingers creeping down— plunging inside without warning.

Your walls clung to his thick digits, groaning the moment he began to scissor them inside. They rubbed against your gummy walls, pressing against a spongy spot inside you. Your eyes were pinched close at this point, hips moving to chase your orgasm. Some nagging feeling told you he would deny it, so you did the best you could; riding and maneuvering to feel his fingers deeper.

The man just let you, watching you completely ruin yourself on his digits; lips curled into the sickest smile. Your walls were clenching tight now, the intensity of your hips increasing to meet each thrust of his fingers. A mantra of swears escaped you, the band inside ready to burst at any moment.

“Already gonna cum aren’t you?” Sukuna questioned despite already knowing the answer, the wet squelches of your pussy following his words. You whined out pleas to come, hand falling to his wrist to keep it there. His lips spread even wider, fangs on display as not so surprisingly; removed his fingers.

You released a dramatic whine, tears pricking at your eyes as you gripped his wrist. “Fuc—fuck.. why’d y— mm!” You raised body met the bed the moment he slapped your messy pussy, knees knocking as the tears trickled down your cheeks. Sukuna cooed softly, grabbing the inside of your thighs and pushing them wide once again.

“Such a fucking crybaby..” The man teased, pushing your legs up, allowing your thighs to brush your chest. Wordlessly he leaned down, tongue poking out to glide across your slit. His grip tightened the moment you flinched, nails digging into your skin and simply keeping you there. The thick muscle glided up and down, tasting your arousal as if the finest wine. Sukuna adjusted you so your heat as flush against his face, nose bumping into your clit while his tongue spread and toyed with you.

Your hands gripped the blankets underneath, legs trembling in his hands as bellows of pleasure escaped you. It began to hurt so good the moment his tongue furiously flicked against your sensitive body, the pleasure racking through you. Your hand traveled down gripping fluffy pink tresses for leverage. Your hips rose into his face, grinding so languidly the man chuckled; the vibrations hitting your pussy in all the right places.

Sukuna released a thigh allowing his arm to press both legs up before his hand traveled, knuckle circling your fluttering hole. With zero effort he was pushing two inside, curling the digits whilst taking your swollen bud between his lips.

The thought of his fangs sinking into your most sensitive area entered your mind, completely washed away the moment he began to suck. Your back arched, gripping his hair hard as all fear left you completely. His name came out in strangled gasps and moans, legs withering above you.

His pace quickened the moment he felt your walls tighten even more, pressing his fingers deeper inside you. You begged to come, shameless pleas that you would surely be embarrassed of later. But for now, you didn’t care; desperate to paint his face with your arousal.

Luckily, Sukuna was just as desperate— smirking as he continued his movements. All too quickly you came, messily grinding on the man’s face as you rode the high. Your pussy spasmed, come tainting his palm as his fingers slowed down before pulling out completely.

Sukuna lapped up your arousal, ignoring your sensitive whines before releasing you over the torture. He moved his arm to allow your legs to land on the bed, rising and crawling over your body. The vampire grinned down at you, watching your eyes struggle to stay on him. “Look at that,” He mocked slowly, hand gliding to grip your cheeks. “— all that talk and you’re already tired. What a joke..” His face moved to neck, tongue dragging across your heated skin. The way you shivered had the man reeling, mouth opening even wider as his fangs easily broke the skin.

You gasped out, clinging to his shirt as the pain flooded your body. “Su—sukuna..” You whined, feeling his lips press against your skin; slowly delving on your blood. The pain slowly withdrew, pleasure replacing the moment his hand trailed back between your legs, thumb pressing against your clit. The sensations fought for dominance, your lip trembling and caught between your teeth. Your hips rose into his hand, stopping the moment he punched your swollen bud, however.

After minutes of his drinking Sukuna was satisfied, dragging his tongue along the indents of his fangs to seal the wound. He licked your blood from his lips, eyes closing for just a moment. The man refused to admit how much he missed not only you, but your blood— and how fucking good it tasted.

Finally his eyes opened, red gaze focusing on your face. Your eyes were closed, soft breaths escaping your glossy lips whilst gripping him so harshly. Sukuna was well aware he fucked up waiting a complete month before seeing you, but was beyond happy you were so pliable for him.

You craved him just as much as he craved you. A fact neither of you could ignore.

Sukuna carried his hand away from you, traveling to grab your neck gently. He rose your head from the bed, snatching your lips in a deep kiss. The faint taste of your blood had you returning the liplock with equal intensity— hand moving away from his back to instead wrap around his wrist. “Missed me so bad, didn’t you (Y/N)?”

You moaned softly against his lips in response, groaning the moment his fangs dragged across your bottom lip, threatening to pierce the skin. Except he didn’t, continuing the intense kiss; tongue curling around your own and sucking.

With one hand occupied his other lowered to his pants, flicking the button open and slowly pushing them down. His boxers followed, garments hanging on his nicely shaped thighs as he crowded in close, dick resting against your lower stomach.

A soft whine entered his mouth the moment he pulled back, gliding his shaft between your folds. The man gave another thrust, brushing your aching bud so nicely. But not perfectly. Your hips rose to somehow alert him you needed more. Sukuna grinned against your lips, pulling back whilst releasing your neck. His hands carried down, pressing your hips against the bed all while fucking himself between your folds.

With each grind your stomach was caving, desperately searching for friction he was withholding. His name exited your lips in a pathetic gasp, hands moving to his arm. You pleaded silently, glossy gaze staring at his own amused one.

“Mm.. use your words.”

You breathed deeply, skin hot and completely needy— slightly fed up with his teasing. But you knew better then to test him, knowing the man would have no problem pulling his pants back on and leave you stranded there. Your teeth bit the inside of your cheek, attempting to ignoring the buzz of pleasure you felt from his shallow thrusts.

“Su—sukuna, please..”

“Hm?” The vampire questioned, heading tilting as he leaned to hover over your body. His hand gripped your chin, turning to force eye contact. “Speak up, (Y/N).”

You struggled to keep your eyes focused on him, a pathetic whimper of; please Sukuna, fuck me! escaping you. A toothy grin was sent your way in response, Sukuna resting on his hunches.

“That’s it.. such a good little slut for me.” He spoke on bated breath, grasping your thighs. Placing your legs onto his shoulders the man nudged forward, cockhead pressing against your entrance before entering with minimal effort— given what a complete you already were.

The stretch hit you just like before, the pressure building in your stomach as your walls clung to his fat length. Your toes curled, head leaning back as strangled gasps escaped you. You were slightly grateful, given the man was pushing in slowly— but you were sure this was done to tease you, and nothing more.

“Taking me like you were made for me, sweetheart. Fu..fuck, did you seriously clench from that?” Sukuna groaned, lips still curled into that shit-eating grin. Soon enough he was all the way in, eyes focused on you split around him.

You were only given a moment to relax, a single one— before the vampire was pulling his hips back, plunging them forward far too quickly. The pace started out relentless, unforgiving; hands gripping your legs as he shoved you deeper into the soiled sheets. Your hands gripped them tightly, continuous strings of moans escaping your bruised lips. Something that Sukuna ate up completely.

“Such a mess, so fucking ru— ruined for…—” Sukuna hissed between groans, gritting his teeth at the way your walls fluttered around him; squeezing his length perfectly. “— anyone but me. No one else could fuck you like this, could they?”

You shook your head quickly, voice far too focused on moaning to even respond. But that wasn’t enough for Sukuna— no, he needed to hear the words spill from your mouth no matter how shaky they were. So he leaned down, forcing your legs up; ankles tainted in your strawberry cheesecake perfume brushing against your ears.

“Use your fucking words, (Y/N). You’re mine aren’t you?” His thrusts became even rougher, drilling you into the mattress and watching you completely lose yourself.

The babbles of confirmation began, stumbling over your words and repeating them. The most distinct being a high-pitched; “Ye—yes, fuck-! Only yo..yours!”

Sukuna’s grin only deepened, face falling to your collarbone. “Mm.. all fucking mine.” He rasped against your sweltering skin, sinking his teeth in without a single warning.

That was enough to push you over the edge, coming all over his length, essence trickling down his balls. Despite how much you panted, how your tired body ached— you knew you were far from done.

Pulling back, Sukuna licked up the drop of crimson that escaped the bite mark. His eyes trailed down your form, enjoying the way your chest rose and fell from the heavy breaths that escaped you, your glossy eyes focused on him, and so much more. Perfect. You embodied every single aspect of the word.

And Sukuna just adored ruining such perfection.

“Not done..” He muttered more to himself than anything, slowly pulling out of you— ignoring the whine you released. With a single hand he was turning you onto your stomach, walking off the bed to stand at the edge of it. There, he gripped your ankle to drag you down. “On your knees sweetheart.. that’s a good girl, so obedient.” A cool hand grasped your warm cheek the moment your knees were pressed against the sheets.

To your surprise Sukuna grasped your wrists, pulling your arms back to fold behind you. Your body rested above the bed, looking back at the man who was still grinning.

“Sukun—!” Your words were interrupted the moment he sunk into you, resuming the previous pace as if never leaving in the first place. His hands kept a tight hold on your wrists, leaving you with no place to move or run from his thrusts. Each one shook your entire body, the impact causing your ass to shake. Your head went slack between your shoulders, crying out as he angled his hips just right; plunging against the sensitive spot within you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck! Hah…—“ You gasped for air, trembling as his hips never faltered. You felt another orgasm brewing, eyes squeezing shut as your hands moved uselessly in his hold. “Gonna come, gonna come!” You managed to squeal out, eyes widening the moment he released a wrist to reach around and rub quick circles on your clit.

“Go on, don’t hold back; make a fucking mess.”

With his permission you were creaming all on his dick, entire body going limp and hitting the bed the moment he released your arm. Your legs shook from the aftershocks, reaching back blindly as tired moans escaped you. Sukuna snickered, swatting your hand away as he leaned over your body; front flush against your back.

Right in your ear the man mocked your moans, fangs tracing the shell of it. “Can barely keep your eyes open, huh? You got such a big mouth for someone that can barely last a single round— ha..” Sukuna groaned cruelly, pinching you with his teeth just to hear you whine.

His arms slid around your middle, bullying your insides as he chased his release. Sukuna bit down on your shoulder hard, relishing in the hoarse cry that escaped your raw throat.

The vampire was so close now, thrust uncoordinated with his gaze getting hazy. His lips were still attached to your shoulder, sucking you while continuing to ruin you. As if you weren’t ruining him, too.

A drawn out moan escaped you, coming around his cock for the final time that night— gasping the moment warmth flooded into your pussy; his thick seed painting your walls white.

Heavy pants escaped you, completely fucked out and simply resting against the bed. It took a moment to gently swat the man that was still sucking your blood, whining about you getting dizzy. Sukuna finally let up, pulling back and licking the wound.

He removed his arms from around you, watching your tired body slump against the bed. Rolling off you, he laid on his back, reaching over to pull you to lay on his chest.

A comfortable silence entered the room, your face placed in his neck whilst his hand was on your waist; groping every once in a while.

“How am I gonna walk out without panties, Sukuna?” You questioned after a while, lifting from his neck to glance down at him. Sukuna turned to face you, raising an eyebrow.

“Don’t know what to tell you..”

“Sukuna!”

reblogs & comments are appreciated <3

[hanggarae]

don’t look for me anymore

9.2k words yoon jeonghan x f!reader, harry potter au, lovers to enemies to strangers to friends to lovers (😭), angst, fluff, kind of dialogue heavy, misunderstandings

synopsis; the last time you and jeonghan saw each other felt like it’d be the last, but clearly fate had different plans

“ow- watch it yoon!” your friend soonyoung scowled at the boy that had just bumped into him. the boy in question being none other than yoon jeonghan.

“why? you that weak that it broke your arm or something? your little girlfriend going to kiss it better for you?” the long haired boy shot back, his voice going high pitched at the end in favour of mocking your friend. jeonghan’s eyes turned to you, “though i can’t expect you’d be with her for much longer” he narrowed his eyes, “she’s not even bothered to stand up for you” he scoffed mirthfully.

“she’s not my girlfriend, but even if she was or wasn’t it’s none of your business so leave her alone?” soonyoung snarled at him.

despite soonyoung’s wishes, the slytherin would not leave you alone. he continued to stare you down, patiently waiting however long it’d take you to budge and acknowledge his presence.

“ln. you blind or something?” he stared down at you, “not even going to say hi to an old friend?” he faked a pout, faux sadness in his voice.

“i’d never be friends with someone like you, yoon” you glared at him, trying your best to not present yourself in a way that was open to something he could poke fun at you for.

he scoffed. you could tell he saw right through you. for a gryffindor, you were always quite the coward when it came to jeonghan.

“that so? you didn’t have the same thing to say a few years ago though” he smirked, hell bent on making sure you remember what the two of you’ve known for years but you try hiding so desperately. “ah well, i’ve got better things to do now so i’ll see you and your girlfriend another time”

soonyoung waited for jeonghan to leave before turning to you, “think if i pay shua he’ll put some hair removing potion into his shampoo?”

you breathed a laugh out at his idea, imagining jeonghan’s reaction to it. he’d probably use his whole life savings to get the school shut down.

——- ★

walking into your transfiguration class, you quickly moved to get to the last seat at a table of a few gryffindors. your face dropped when you saw it be taken by a hufflepuff. scanning the classroom, your eyes set on the last remaining seat at the table of slytherin’s, and low and behold, there was yoon jeonghan. luckily enough, the seat wasn’t next to him but one of his friends, joshua.

from what soonyoung had told you about joshua, he was nice- so much so that soonyoung insists the sorting hat must’ve been having an off day when it decided to place him in slytherin. but from what your other friend seungcheol had told you, joshua was just as mischievous if not more so than jeonghan. and from what you’d seen of him in classes for the last few years, he was incredibly good at thinking on his feet. the amount of excuses he’d managed to pull from out of thin air had you questioning just how eventful this man’s life was.

you’d quickly moved to the table, smiling slightly to joshua “uh, is it alright if i sit here?”

joshua smiled easily at you, “yeah sure go ahead” getting a quill out of his bag before moving it off of the seat so you could sit there.

you breathed out a ‘thank you’ before grabbing a quill yourself, keeping your gaze fixed on the textbook while you waited for your professor to arrive.

as much as you’d tried to avoid it- you could feel his eyes on you. you knew jeonghan was staring at you, but you couldn’t deal with him embarrassing you in front of his friends so you avoided passing your gaze to him.

——- ★

class felt like it’d never end but as soon as mcgonagall had dismissed you, you don’t think you’d ever packed your things that quickly.

turning on your heel you made a beeline for the door, hoping to catch up with seungcheol to head to your next class.

“yn” you heard someone behind you clear their throat, and you silently prayed it wasn’t who you thought it was. you turned around to see joshua with his hand out, “yn, you forgot your book”

“oh thank you, joshua” you hummed, smiling up at him. for a split second, you looked to the left of him and saw jeonghan staring right back at you. “well..” you cleared your throat, “i’ve got to go now, but thanks again. i’ll see you around, bye!” and then you were gone.

“should’ve burnt it instead of giving it back” jeonghan muttered while he walked out of the classroom with his friend.

“next time, you can have at it” joshua laughed. being jeonghan’s best friend, he was well aware of the circumstances between you and jeonghan. “don’t you think it’s about time you let it go?” joshua suggested when they’d arrived back to the common room.

“it’s not like i care about that, i just don’t like people as spineless as her” jeonghan muttered. despite his words, joshua could easily tell he didn’t mean it. he was still genuinely hurt at what happened in your guys’ fifth year. “whatever. you heading to hogsmeade this weekend?”

“not sure yet. might have to catch up on some homework, why?” joshua pondered over it.

“i wanted to head down to grab something” jeonghan sighed, “a book you idiot!” jeonghan continued after seeing the sceptical look from his friend.

“you can’t blame me for being curious, can you?” joshua laughed, dodging the pillow his friend threw at him.

“well if you do change your mind, let me know. anyway, i’ve got alchemy now, i’ll see you at dinner”

joshua nodded, waving at his friend before heading to his own class, potions.

——- ★

“have you thought about what you’re going to do after n.e.w.t’s?” nayeon asked you as the two of walked into class.

“hm? uh i was thinking maybe taking a year to myself for travelling or something” you thought over it for a few seconds, “i think i’ll end up going insane if i need to start looking for jobs immediately” you laughed.

“that’s fair” nayeon returned your laughs, “i’m not completely sure what i want to do either. i was so confident back in fifth but now it’s just.. i’m so unmotivated” she groaned, burying her head in her arms.

you rubbed her back in comfort, looking to the door to make sure professor snape hadn’t arrived yet. you knew what he was like, if he saw nayeon ‘slacking off’ as he would put it, he’d end up taking it out on all gryffindor. “oh- nayeon quick get up” you whispered when you caught a glimpse of his greasy, unkempt hair.

“oh shit thanks” she told you hurriedly, quickly gathering the materials from her bag. you stifled a laugh at her panic, secretly urging her to hurry up because snape was about to direct his line of vision to the two of you.

luckily, nayeon had managed to get everything out in time and from what snape saw she was raring to get the lesson started.

“nayeon, this weekend professor sprout has requested you help the first years with their extra curricular” snape looked over unamused.

nayeon sighed before nodding, and turned to you to roll her eyes before plastering a smile on and turning back to the board.

“can’t believe i have to cancel our plans this weekend to help with herbology. why couldn’t that slimy snape just ‘forget’ to tell me instead” your friend groaned disheartened.

you laughed, “it’s fine don’t worry about it, we can always go next week!” you reassured her.

“if i end up dying before that i’ll make sure i turn into a ghost and terrorise the herbology class from now on” she mumbled, still pouting. “oh well. i suppose if we can’t hang out you can at least spend some time with your ‘boyfriend’” nayeon teased.

you looked at her confused for a few seconds before groaning and rolling your eyes, “are you talking about guwon again? i told you he’s not my boyfriend!”

“you guys are literally always together!” she accused, a smirk settling on her face.

“that’s because he doesn’t have any friends!” you lied. from what you knew, guwon was pretty popular in ravenclaw, “we only know or talk to each other because our parents are best friends. if it wasn’t for that i wouldn’t even look at him”

nayeon pondered for a few seconds, “you have to admit though.. he’s pretty cute isn’t he?”

you sighed, clearly she wasn’t going to drop it. “i guess you’re right.. guwon is a little cute, but ah-!” you were cut off by someone bumping, well more pushing, passed you.

“watch it!” nayeon screamed at whoever it was, helping you up at the same time. “ugh, some people are so rude. are you alright yn?”

nayeon had her wand out, ready to hex whoever had bumped into you without even apologising.

“i’m fine, thanks” small smile on your face. you looked over for a few seconds while nayeon was still ranting about the manners of people in this school, you could see the back of who had bumped into you and you immediately recognised those long raven locks of hair. you frowned slightly; you really couldn’t blame him. you smiled at nayeon before just suggesting to head back to the common room until dinner.

——- ★

that weekend, you decided to head to hogsmeade on your own, asking nayeon what she wanted you to bring back for her. after making a note of it, you headed off.

when you arrived, you made a beeline for the three broomsticks, although you quickly regretted it seeing how busy it was. there was only one free seat and it was next to- oh great.

“mind if i sit here?” you mumbled, avoiding his eyes.

“what? you sit here?” jeonghan deadpanned, looking up at you, “no. get lost” he didn’t pay you any more mind, going back to sipping his drink.

you sighed exasperated, “look there’s literally no where else to sit!” you gestured toward all the seats to emphasise your point.

jeonghan followed what you were pointing at, before settling on one table. he pointed toward it, gathering your attention, “isn’t that your boyfriend over there? why don’t you go sit next to your darling, cute moon guwon?” he made a physical show of gagging unenthusiastically.

you stayed silent for a minute. “yeah that’s what i thought” he scoffed. “always so spineless. for a gryffindor you’re a real coward, you know that?”

he continued to sip his butter beer, really paying you no more attention. that was until you shoved him to make room for you on the bench.

“the hell do you think you’re doing?” he whisper-shouted at you, ears turning red at how close to his side you were.

“just shut up for once!” you scoffed, “that was what i hated most about you when we dated” you shook your head at him, aware he could see the teasing gleam in your eyes.

he shook his own head, “oh yeah? well i hated how you never understood the concept of personal space, and clearly-” he gestured between the two of you, “you still haven’t”

you giggled lightly, taking your own butter beer from the waitor, “thank you” you smiled as she left. “whatever. see it isn’t hard for you to be civil is it?”

you looked up at jeonghan when he went silent, but he was looking at something else. you followed his line of sight and saw guwon approaching the two of you.

“yn, hi! you’re with.. jeonghan.. how have you guys been?” he smiled tight lipped.

“uh good. how about you, guwon?” you shifted uncomfortably.

“i’m great! jeonghan?”

the boy in question was currently staring down at his hands, playing with a coin between his fingers. “hm?” he looked up. “i’m uh, i’m good guwon. thanks” he said void of emotion.

“great! yn how about you join me at my table?” he said moving to grab your hand.

you moved your hand from where he could grab it, moving it to your pocket instead. you were tired of jeonghan making assumptions on his own. “i’m going to head out after i finish this anyway. just wanted to grab a drink. thanks though!”

guwon nodded before heading back to his own table, but you could tell he wasn’t happy. you rolled your eyes at the thought of a letter from your parents coming within the next few days to scold you.

whatever- that didn’t matter. what mattered was the boy sitting next to you. warily, you looked back at him, a distant look in his eyes. he looked so hurt, and tired. “jeonghan-” you started, only for him to put a hand up to stop you.

“i can’t be bothered with your explanation, ln” he muttered, “just finish your drink and leave me alone, please”

you nodded before gulping down the rest of your drink, heading to the counter to pay for yours as well as jeonghan’s drink. it was the least you could do.

when you got back to hogwarts, the first thing you did was head back to the dorm. you didn’t care about dinner tonight, you just felt so tired. you left the book nayeon wanted on her bed before you sat on your own. rubbing your face as you collected your thoughts, reminiscing on the past.

little did you know jeonghan was thinking the same on the other side of the castle.

during fifth year, you and jeonghan were incredibly happy together. you both hated being apart from each other so much that hiding the relationship seemed to be the most difficult thing ever. you would have to borrow someone else’s hands to count the amount of close calls there were.

“baby” jeonghan whined from next to you, both of you sitting in the old astronomy tower that nobody used anymore. “this hiding the relationship thing is getting too tiresome. we’ve been dating for months now, are you sure we can’t..?” he looked over to you, hopeful that you’d finish his sentence with the words he so desperately wanted to hear.

“what? tell people we’re dating?” you looked over at him perplexed, you’ve explained the situation to him more times you could count. “han.. you know i want to but-”

“your parents. i know i know. i’m sorry” he looked back up at the stars, shoulders deflating in defeat.

you gulped nervously, there really was only so much someone could put up with before they lose their mind. “hannie..” you whispered, taking his hands in yours, “i’m sorry. this summer i’ll convince them, alright?”

“you will?” jeonghan looked at you, his eyes resembling those of a kicked puppy.

“i will- and besides! it’s not like you’re the problem, it’s my parents! they don’t want me dating anyone” you hoped and prayed he wouldn’t catch onto your white lie. and thankfully he didn’t because you saw him get a little more energy from knowing your parents didn’t have a personal grudge against him.

about two weeks after your night with jeonghan in the astronomy tower, dumbledore had announced the parents dinner/ball that was to be held.

when jeonghan approached you when it had first been announced you knew this situation wasn’t going to end well. because he had suggested he find a way to convince your parents at the dinner that he was good enough for you. and in that moment you realised yoon jeonghan was in fact too good for you.

“mom, dad please don’t do this” you glared at your parents while whisper-shouting your complaints. still, they beckoned the Moon’s over, catching up with their old friends and introducing you to their son, moon guwon. you shook his hand, shooting him a curt, tight-lipped smile.

you weren’t exactly unfamiliar with him. he was a ravenclaw boy in your year who, from what you knew from seungcheol, was popular in his house. he was definitely their best candidate for head boy in a few years.

“why don’t the two of you go dance?” your mother laughed obnoxiously, already pushing the two of you to the center.

guwon circled his arm around your waist, bringing you closer to him. he smiled down at you, eyebrows furrowing when he saw how unhappy you looked.

“please let me go” you told him coldly, “i don’t think it’s appropriate for me to be dancing with you”

“why? think you’re going to hurt yoon’s feelings? look to your left you’re already too late” guwon scoffed, his head nodding toward jeonghan who you couldn’t read at all.

your face ran cold, desperately trying to get to him but guwon kept you close to him. “let me-”

“do you really just want to hurt him even more?” he looked at you seriously, “what? you really think you can convince your own, as well as my parents to call off this fantasy engagement they’ve had planned for us since they were our age?”

“you’re telling me that’s real? well we can’t just let them-”

“you can argue with them all you want” guwon told you unamused, “if you want yourself to end up on the streets on diagon alley, you go ahead”

a few minutes later, jeonghan had left and you did your best to excuse yourself from the party. jeonghan wasn’t anywhere near the entrances to the main hall. you saw a few of his friends but stopped yourself from asking them, it’d only cause suspicion.

you ran to the slytherin common room, maybe you could catch up with him before he entered; you didn’t know the password so there was no chance of the two of you could talk things through. when you had arrived, you still couldn’t find jeonghan.

‘where could he have gone?’ you paced thinking to yourself. and then it hit you.

when you arrived at the old astronomy tower, jeonghan was sitting there, looking up at the stars like he always did.

“jeonghan” you sighed out of breath, “jeonghan let me-”

“let you explain how you lied to me? how you basically lead me on this entire year? it’s fine yn i don’t care” he told you coldly.

“jeonghan please” you pleaded, “i didn’t want any of what happened back there”. he didn’t stop you so you continued, sighing “my parents and guwon’s parents have had some dream of getting me and him married, but i don’t want that!”

“so then tell them that yn! why’re you telling me?” jeonghan finally looked at you and you finally caught a glimpse of the hurt in his eyes, tears that gathered in his pretty eyes cascading down his face.

you stayed silent. you wanted to tell them but you knew what it meant. you’d be an outsider from your family, never acknowledged again. “jeonghan i can’t..”

jeonghan moved to stand up, harshly rubbing the tears from his eyes. he sniffed, the tip of his nose appearing slightly pink from the cold wind. “see that’s your problem yn. this is what it’s like with you and i can’t be bothered with it anymore. when you can finally take action and stop being so ashamed of me.. come find me”

“that exam sucked!” soonyoung cried, the younger fourth year boy, lee chan, cheering him up.

“oh come on soonyoung! it couldn’t have been that bad. besides! you’re cool you don’t need these stupid exams anyway” the younger boy continued to pat his back comfortingly.

“no it’s not chan! ‘m gonna fail my newts and then the ministry’s gonna laugh at me when i try getting a job!” soonyoung sobbed, clinging onto chan for dear life.

“soonyoung people are staring at us” nayeon urged soonyoung to stop, “besides why don’t you use this to study for the next one?”

soonyoung looked at nayeon as if she’d grown a second head, “are you daft? i’m thinking of ways to make sure my life isn’t over and you’re telling me about studying!”

nayeon slammed her book shut, using it hit soonyoung’s arm, making him groan and whine in pain. “maybe your life won’t be over if you actually study for the next one more!”

“oh yeah. you’ve got a point nayeon thanks” soonyoung smiled, taking the book from her “i’ll use this to study thanks!” and that was all he said before he ran off, nayeon chasing after him.

you laughed at their antics, watching them for a few more seconds before turning back to your own study material.

the library was surprisingly empty today, you’d have thought more seventh years would be here studying but apparently not. you wished you could be a little relaxed like them, but you were currently stressed beyond reason about the exam tomorrow.

the exam today wasn’t nearly as bad as soonyoung had said, and when you checked back on your notes after the exam was over, you were pleased to see most of your answers were related to what your notes had said. even that couldn’t give you complete peace of mind though, these exams were too unpredictable.

you looked over at the clock and saw it was getting late, your exam was pretty early tomorrow so it’s best you get a good night's sleep so that you don’t end up falling asleep on your test.

after you packed your things up and headed for the exit, something- or rather someone, caught your eye. you debated mentally for a few seconds on whether or not to approach him and before you knew it, your feet were dragging you to him.

“jeonghan” you sighed, smiling at him when he looked up at you, a little confused as to why you would approach him so suddenly. he wasn’t alone, he was with joshua and a few of his other slytherin friends. “good luck with the exam tomorrow. you too joshua!” you waved and left before getting a response from them, but heard a ‘thanks you too!’ from joshua when your back was turned.

walking back to your dorm, you lingered a little longer, observing the walls and infrastructure to set in stone in your mind. it was painful to think about but you weren’t going to be here much longer unfortunately.

while you were lost in your thoughts, you found yourself ending up at the old astronomy tower. you hadn’t been here in two years.

the view was as gorgeous as ever, and the cool air grazed your cheeks so pleasantly. and it dried the tears quicker than you could wipe them.

the memories of the night two years ago were too painful to think about too much. you regretted it so much but still, you often thought about his words. “when you can finally take action and stop being so ashamed of me.. come find me”.

you sometimes wondered if that offer still stood. what if he’d grown tired of waiting? dating isn’t huge news in hogwarts so there was a chance he’d already moved on. your heart broke at the thought. you berated yourself for feeling like this. he was the one that got hurt, not you.

maybe you could fix things between the two of you. you were hopeful, but if you were to be honest with yourself it was all in vain. until you’d be able to stand up to your parents there was no use.

their obsession with keeping up their high status in the wizarding world wasn’t something that you could make disappear in a night.

you continued to look up at the stars, if they were going to be like this, was there even a point in continuing to be a part of their false idea of a family. you were smart enough to get a well paying job, so even if they did abandon you, it’s not as if your life would be over. and you were certain your friends were much more loyal to you than your family, so it’s not as if they’d let you rot slowly away while living with regret.

if only you had realised this back in fifth year you thought to yourself. you were fine with losing a family that was practically never yours, but losing jeonghan who only had love for you was the most stupid decision of your life.

you had decided that after your final day, and when all your classmates will part ways ready for the future, you’d find jeonghan and tell him everything.

——- ★

“how was the exam?” nayeon smiled nervously at you. it was easy to tell she was happy but she was being careful in case it wasn’t the case for you.

you sighed, making yourself look as sad as possible before giggling at her worried expression, “it was amazing!”

“what-? you had me worried!” she whined, pushing you lightly and then pulled you into a hug. from the corner of her eye she saw soonyoung and immediately turned to him, “how was it?”

“so much better than yesterday! i owe it to you nayeon i think i would’ve failed if you didn’t force me to study” he high-fived her. “cheol how’d you find it?”

“they were all pretty great for me soonyoung, i didn’t wait until the last minute like some idiot” seungcheol smirked when soonyoung started to sputter in offence.

you laughed again, but your mind was still distant from everything happening in front of you. looking around, you spotted where the slytherin’s were, jeonghan laughing with joshua’s arm around him. you had to wait until he was alone and it was probably going to have to be after dinner.

you decided to finish up on packing instead, you’d all be heading out tomorrow and getting your results in the mail after a few days.

as you emptied out the last of your things you noticed something. a small, thin silver bracelet. jeonghan had given it to you on your guys’ third date and you’d kept it ever since. you wore it everyday while you were together but wearing it after that night was too painful. you let out a breath you’d been holding in, slipping the bracelet on so it sat pretty on your wrist.

you couldn’t eat much at dinner, your eyes kept turning to where jeonghan sat, hoping he’d get the signals you were sending.

you thought maybe he did when he left earlier than his friends. thinking this was your chance, you waited a minute or two to head in the same direction, trying to be as discreet as possible. you continued to follow where he was heading, confused when he walked to the astronomy tower.

“how long are you going to just keep following me?” jeonghan muttered annoyed, turning around to stare you in the eyes when you wouldn’t respond. his expression was saying ‘go on’.

“i wanted to talk to you-”

before you could finish, jeonghan laughed bitterly. “this is a familiar scene isn’t it. the same astronomy tower and you’re saying the same thing”

“han please just-”

“don’t call me that” he spat bitterly, cutting you off. “the only thing that changed is that we finally feel the same”

you looked at him confused for a few seconds, ‘what the hell was he talking about?’

“two years ago, i loved you. so, so much. but you didn’t love me back, we didn’t feel the same. but now we do. you hate me like you did back then, and i hate you too. isn’t it just hilarious how the world works”

you couldn’t speak. ‘i hate you too’ the words echoed in your mind. you wanted to tell him that it wasn’t true, you never hated him and you never could hate him. that even today you still love him. but the words died in your throat to make space for the lump forming in it. “jeonghan-”

“yn” he turned back to look at you, “don’t try to find me anymore”.

it wasn’t fair. the first time he had called you by your name in two years and it was to tell you that he never wanted to see you again.

he didn’t care about you. his offer didn’t mean anything, he didn’t want you to find him.

it wasn’t fair because you cared about him, to you that offer was a last hope, you had already found your soulmate.

but he didn’t care. he saw the tears in your eyes and scoffed, walking away from you and not even looking back once.

sniffing harshly, you bitterly wiped your tears, deciding to retreat for your dorm for the rest of the night, waiting for the trains to take you away the next morning. away from hogwarts, away from life as you know it, and away from a life with jeonghan.

“lumos” jeonghan gripped his wand loosely, having just shot up from the sound of someone in his house.

“jeonghan! happy birthday!” jeonghan winced at his friend’s loudness, groaning as he rubbed the sleep from his eye. looking over at the bedside table, he saw the clock read 00:03.

“what the hell are you doing in my house at midnight?” jeonghan looked at his friend unimpressed, but any threatening looking act he was trying to put on was undone by his messy bed head.

“wishing you a happy birthday!” he motioned to the balloons to which jeonghan rolled his eyes. “oh come on, it’s not everyday your best friend turns 25 is it? here make a wish”

joshua brought a small cupcake with a single candle lit to jeonghan, and he’d be lying if he said there wasn’t a smile creeping onto his face at his friend’s efforts. he blew out the candle, giving a hug to his friend. “thanks shua”

joshua smiled brightly, “your welcome, what’d you wish for by the way? because if i were to make a suggestion i’d tell you to wish for a girlfriend because-”

“you’re starting to sound like my mother, you know?” jeonghan whined, taking a lick of the cupcake’s frosting.

“look i’m sorry! but usually this type of thing would be done by somebody’s partner- not t eir best friend” joshua reasoned, taking a seat on jeonghan’s bed.

“well it’s not exactly like i asked you to do all this” jeonghan mumbled under his breath, “not that i don’t appreciate it of course!” he quickly added on seeing the look joshua always has when he’s mad. and an angry joshua was not something jeonghan wanted to deal with at 12am.

“whatever. have you got work in the morning?” joshua took a cupcake for himself from the box of a dozen.

“yeah, someone from a different department’s transferring to ours. i’ve got to introduce them to the team and sort of like- mentor them i guess. well it’s more like just showing them the ropes but you get the idea. anyway i’ve got to do that for a week”

“aren’t you the head of the department?” joshua looked at him confused.

jeonghan finished off his cupcake, throwing the paper into the bin near his door. “i am, but i thought i’d just introduce them. we don’t get new people often-”

“because you people have some crazy elite department-”

“we don’t get new people so i thought i’d be nice and introduce them myself”

joshua stared at his friend for a few seconds. “the minister told you to do it didn’t he?” he smirked.

jeonghan’s eyes widened, ‘how the hell did joshua see through him?’ “look whatever! maybe choi seungcheol was on my ass about it a little more than usual for some reason but i don’t care! now goodnight!”

joshua laughed at his friend before deciding to head to the guest room for the night, he still had to get everything for jeonghan’s party set for later. hopefully one of his surprises wouldn’t completely fall through.

——- ★

“so you’re transferring next week?” nayeon asked you while she took a sip of her drink. the both of you were currently at your friend soonyoung’s quidditch match.

“that’s what cheol told me yeah” you kept an eye on the game, trying to follow soonyoung but it was hard considering he was the seaker so he constantly moved from one side of the field to the other in mere seconds.

“that’s great!” nayeon smiled before it dropped seeing the dejected look on your face, “isn’t it?”

“it is! it’s just- for some reason they’re making the head of the department stay with me for my first week” you rubbed the back of your neck sheepishly.

nayeon frowned confused, “that’s weird. did you ask cheol about that?”

when you opened your mouth to speak you were cut off by a bludger almost hitting right to the side of the bench where you were sat. before it could connect however, the referee made quick work of whipping out his wand to divert it back to the middle of the field.

you breathed heavily, “that was a close one! thank you!” you called out to the referee, “but uh anyway yeah the transfer. i didn’t want to bother cheol with asking him why the head’s sticking with me this week. it’s already amazing he’s putting the transfer through”

nayeon nodded, looking away from you to look at the match again. currently, soonyoung and the opposing team’s seaker were neck and neck, fingertips grasping for the snitch. both you and nayeon shouted cheers for soonyoung and his team, the cheers getting louder as soonyoung got closer.

after a tense chase, soonyoung finally managed to grab the snitch, using his broom to fly through the crowds, waving at the two of you when he spotted where your seats were.

“just through that lift and you’ll be right there lovely” the old lady at the receptionist smiled at you.

you nodded your head and thanked her before going to where she pointed out. the nerves were secretly eating you up.

you checked the small mirror in the elevator to help you freshen yourself up. you’ve had new jobs before, and nerves never hit you on your first day. but the fact that you’ll have to immediately jump into having your boss practically watching your every move and breathing down your neck. ‘get a grip you were a gryffindor for a reason’ you mentally motivated yourself.

the elevator made a sound indicating you were here causing you to take one last look and make sure you looked alright.

the owl you received told you that you’d have to meet the head in his office. you looked around for it, but couldn’t really spot it what with everyone walking around. it must’ve been break time you supposed.

“hi!” you said to one of the workers you spotted near the coffee machine, he returned your smile. you checked his name tag and saw his name was hansol. “i just transferred here and i was told to meet with the head at his office. could you just point where it is?”

he nodded, taking the last sip before throwing the paper cup into the bin. “sure, follow me. it’s a bit far i’m not going to lie”

suddenly you felt bad about making the poor guy use his break to take you to this office, you could’ve just looked around until you found it.

“so what’s your name?” hansol turned to you. “there was a mental situation with the owls and we never ended up getting the file with your information, just the news that there was a transfer”

you blinked at him. a situation with the owls? “oh that’s weird. well i’m yn” you held out your hand for him to shake and he returned it with his own introduction and a nice to meet you.

the both of you continued to walk until you reached a large bookshelf covering an entire wall. you saw vernon reach for wand before reciting an ‘alohomora’ under his breath.

you watched as the book shelf parted vertically in the middle, stepping back cautiously. it revealed another door, and hansol told you that all you needed to do was knock and wait for him to answer.

“by the way it’s his birthday today, so if you mention that later it’ll get him in a good mood” that was the last thing hansol told you before leaving.

his birthday was today? you quickly decided to make a note of it after knocking on the door, october 3rd.. who else’s birthday was on october 3rd?

you went through a mental list of whoever you’ve been close to, none of their birthdays being october 3rd? who the hell was it?

your thoughts were cute off by the door swinging open, your new boss standing right at the frame. oh, that’s who you were thinking of.

“good afternoon, i’m the head of this department my names yoon jeonghan,” he still hadn’t looked up at you, “if you don’t mind could you just tell me your name, you might’ve heard the issue with the owls-” he finally looked up, the color draining from his face.

“i’m ln yn” you held your hand out for him to shake, “i look forward to working here”

you weren’t honestly expecting jeonghan to return the handshake, but surprisingly he did. the initial shock hadn’t run out yet, he still really couldn’t believe you were here.

slowly, an awkward atmosphere encased the two of you. you cleared your throat, “uh, happy birthday! hansol told me..” you trailed off at the end.

you looked up at him and all of a sudden you were 16 again, unable to decipher what the slytherin was feeling. you knew for sure he couldn’t be happy about this entire thing though.

despite your thoughts, jeonghan had actually plastered a smile on his face. “thank you. come inside and we’ll discuss what the following week’ll be like”

you nodded before following him into the office, closing the door behind you. jeonghan motioned for you to sit on the chair opposite from his behind the desk.

when you sat down the nerves hit you again. all of a sudden all you thought about the last time you saw jeonghan, what he said to you. to not look for him anymore.

you started to play with the bracelet on your wrist, and you mentally facepalmed at how it was the one jeonghan had given you all those years ago.

to be fair, it was a beautiful bracelet, and it just so happened to be the one you reached for randomly this morning.

“so as you might already know, i’ve been told to show you the ropes this week. i’m not entirely sure why, it obviously can’t be great to have to get right to work with your new boss watching you, but regardless that’s what minister choi has asked for” jeonghan sighed, checking through a file.

your brows furrowed at the last sentence, ‘seungcheol asked him to?’ weird. it’s not like he knew about you and jeonghan.

“what we’re going to be doing for today is just getting you settled in. i’ll show you around, tell you what it is we do here and why and answer any questions you might have” he said it all so professionally and you wondered why you couldn’t do the same. how was he being so normal about this?

“so before we start, any questions?” he looked up from the file and straight at you.

your eyebrows raised for a second in surprise, “not yet no, thank you”

jeonghan nodded before standing up, “we’ll get started on that tour now. follow me please” he held the door open for you, shutting it behind you before motioning for you to follow him.

after about an hour you were done with the tour and meeting everyone. you could tell why this was branded as a more ‘elite’ department.

“your office isn’t completely done yet so you hang around in here until the end of the week” jeonghan said, pointing toward his office, his other hand in his pocket.

he lead you both back into the office, sitting at his desk before rubbing his face in his hands and stifling a yawn. he looked up and saw you standing awkwardly a couple of steps from the door. and you might’ve been going crazy but you swear there was a smile pulling at his lips.

“yn, you can come sit, it’s fine” he said softly, using his wand to bring the work that needed to be done for today.

you carefully watched what he was doing when you were sat, taking mental notes as to how he does it so you wouldn’t get ridiculed for something in a week or two.

your attention started to drift after a few minutes it happened to end up focusing on jeonghan’s hand. you saw he didn’t have any ring on meaning he definitely wasn’t married. maybe he was dating someone- wait why do you even care? the two of you broke each other's heart years ago and are only talking now because of a coincidence of working together.

“so how have you been?” jeonghan asked you catching you off guard. he looked at you, shooting you a look that said he was being serious and it wasn’t a trick question.

“i’ve uh- i’ve been good” you smiled awkwardly, “after school finished it's just been work, you know? probably been the same for you” you laughed awkwardly.

he smiled himself nodding in agreement, “yeah it’s been a little tiresome i can’t lie. but i haven’t really taken a chance to have a break. even now i haven’t even had time to meet new people, that’s why i’m stuck with shua” he laughed at the end and you hated how warm it made you feel. you always loved the sound of his laugh.

you hummed, agreeing to what he was saying. truth be told you never really bothered too much about making new friends after hogwarts, you had the few people that you loved and cared for and they were enough.

you’ve obviously met new people along the way but there was no new relationship that stuck out to you.

“how is everyone else anyway? obviously i already know how minister choi is” jeonghan chuckled, voice breathy, “but how about everyone else? i’ve heard about soonyoung joining a quidditch team”

“yeah he did! right now nayeon’s working at a place in diagon alley to do with herbology, but she’s said she wanted to try applying to be a herbology teacher for hogwarts”

“that’s great” jeonghan said in awe, “shua’s the same more or less. his family’s got one of the biggest accounts at gringotts so he doesn’t have to worry about working for a long time”

you thought back for a second, joshua’s family had about the same social status in the wizarding world as your parents did, so frankly speaking it’d make sense why he didn’t bother working. you would do the same if it wasn’t for the fact that working kept your parents distracted from telling you that you needed to marry guwon any one of these days.

your mood turned sour remembering what your parents constantly remind you. their obsession with being acknowledged and having a high status always took a toll on how they actually were as parents. they were awful, and it didn’t help that you were thinking about all of this in front of jeonghan, the person you lost because you couldn’t stand up to your parents.

“yn? you alright?” jeonghan waved his hand in front of your face a few times, retreating his hand when you nodded.

“sorry just spaced out for a second” you rubbed your eyes.

jeonghan stared blankly at your wrist, there was no way right? “is that the same bracelet that..?” he trailed off at the end, but you knew exactly what he said.

you cleared your throat, “oh! yeah i think so?” you lied straight through your teeth, you knew it was the one he’d gotten you. “it was just with the rest of my stuff and it caught my eye, thought it looked nice”

jeonghan nodded, honestly a little.. dejected? there was no way, who were you kidding?

——- ★

“so anything fun happen at work today?” joshua asked jeonghan in the way to the birthday dinner.

jeonghan looked over at his friend, confused. he almost never asked about work.

“not really..” jeonghan looked at him confused. “well actually- you remember that girl yn ln from school? same year as us but she was in gryffindor?”

“you mean your ex?” joshua looked back at jeonghan.

“yeah” jeonghan muttered, “look whatever point is- she was the transfer to the department”

“really?” joshua said surprised, parking the car outside of the restaurant. “that’s random”

“that’s what i thought” jeonghan mumbled, taking off his seatbelt and walking toward the restaurant with his friend.

the dinner was great, jeonghan enjoyed spending time with his friends. he couldn’t see as often these days, being the head of department didn’t give him much free time.

as he and his friends were getting ready to leave, jeonghan felt someone tap his shoulder to get his attention. he turned around to see a familiar face but he just couldn’t put his finger on it.

“jeonghan! it’s been a while” the man pulled him into a hug making jeonghan go a little stiff. the man pulled back to smile at jeonghan, frowning at how confused he looked. “it’s me.. moon guwon? you don’t remember me?”

“oh you” jeonghan muttered, rage growing in his body. “yeah i remember you. what do you want?”

guwon looked at the longer haired man for a few seconds, taken aback at his reaction to seeing him again.

“well uh, there’s an event on the 20th next month. the family organising it would like you to attend. you too, joshua” guwon plastered a smile at the two of them.

“sure, why not?” joshua sighed, “we’ll see you then guwon”

——- ★

“yn!” a voice called for you as you were about to step onto the elevator. you looked around and saw jeonghan catching up to you a few feet away.

you held the elevator open, giggling to yourself at how he was winded from just running over to the elevator.

jeonghan glared at you playfully, “you’re really laughing at your own boss?”

“my mistake, sir” you stifled another laugh.

“unbelievable” jeonghan scoffed, placing his hand on his chest to feign hurt. “and here i was thinking you were such a nice person”

“i don’t recall me doing anything particularly wrong” you said thoughtfully, placing your finger on your chin for good measure.

considering your last memory of each other from when you were teenagers was him saying he hated you and never wanted to see you again, he really did stick closely to you when you started working with him.

on your off days he was the first to notice. at first you excused it with the fact that you simply had to share on office together and he’d always been perceptive; but even after your office was finally ready, he still managed to always be with you.

he was so good at reading you and so keen on making sure you were alright, that hansol had to stifle a laugh every time he saw you and jeonghan flustered by the other’s actions.

“yn, sit with us” you heard your mother tell you as soon you stepped into your home. shrugging off your shoulder you internally screamed imagine what they’d be like while they were here.

you sat on the couch, not bothering to properly greet either of them. “what’s this about now?” you sighed, already annoyed.

“your mother and i will be hosting an event on the 20th next month, make sure you’re there” your father told you plainly.

“why? you lot never haven’t invited me to any of these events, why do you want me to come to this one all of a sudden?”

“stop talking back, yn” your mother muttered, her face irritated. “but if you really must know, the moon’s will be there. and they’ve been thinking, and so have we, that we might as well finally set your engagement with guwon in stone”

“it’ll be at a public event too, it’ll bring even more attention to us” your father smirked and you had to physically stop yourself from rolling your eyes. it was always about publicity with these people.

you tried not to dwell on it too much, but your heart dropped at how your parents wanted the engagement to be set in stone.

——- ★

“yn, are you alright?” jeonghan asked you one day from his seat at his desk.

he’d called you in because it seemed like there was a short evaluation that day at work, so everyone was brought to his office. it wasn’t anything serious, just a quick discussion on how everyone’s work was going and nobody was going to be fired from it.

“i’m alright, this job is great and-” you started to answer him smiling.

“no- sorry, i meant, are you alright? i’ve noticed you seem a little down these days..”

“oh” you breathed out, “yeah don’t worry about it i’m alright, just slept bad last night” you smiled to which he nodded and that was the end of it.

“you’re sure?” jeonghan furrowed his eyebrows before sighing. “look yn.. i care about you- because you’re my employee of course” he sputtered out.

“and you know we want this to be a positive environment so- look how about we just go out for lunch and it’ll distract you a little?”

“lunch?” you looked at him confused. it was cute to see him like this honestly, and it reminded you of how he was when you guys started dating but he was afraid you wouldn’t like how affectionate he was.

it’d probably only make you sadder tonight but you didn’t care. nodding while a smile easily melted onto your face, “i’d love to”

“you’re really good at sucking up to people you know” jeonghan snickered to his friend after a potential business partner left.

throughout the entire event, many businessmen approached joshua, telling him all about how he and his family’s business would prosper by creating ties with them. and it amused jeonghan to see his friend have to pretend to be interested and give them false promises that he’d look into their offers and get back to them. in reality he’d tell them when they contacted him in a few weeks that his family wasn’t interested and that’d be the end of it.

“nice to know you find this so funny” joshua yawned, taking another drink from the tray.

across the hall, you spotted jeonghan immediately. you’d spent the last few weeks getting to know each other again, so you looked forward to at least having his company tonight. the only two problems were that one: both of you refused to acknowledge your past together and two: you were slowly starting to fall for him again.

it wasn’t hard to. he was the same as he’d been when you fell for him the first time. always so mischievous on the surface but to the very few people who could scratch that surface, he was one of the most kind hearted people you’d ever seen.

you were afraid you knew where this was going to go. if you hadn’t fallen in love with jeonghan again, you suppose you could have eventually stopped despising a life with guwon, but now that you’ve spent even a second with jeonghan, you know you’d never be able to accept this life you were going to be forced to live with guwon.

against your better judgments, you let your feet walk you over to jeonghan, smiling brightly at him when he saw you. “jeonghan, joshua! how are you both?”

“yn, hi, it’s been a while” joshua smiled back at you. he looked between you and jeonghan for a few seconds before chugging the rest of his drink, “i’m going to head to the bathroom, you guys have fun without me” he patted jeonghan on the back before he left.

“you didn’t tell me this event was yours?” jeonghan chuckled, accusing you playfully.

“you didn’t tell me you’d be coming!” you matched his playful energy. you observed him for a few more seconds and could tell he was out of energy. “are you alright?”

“hm? yeah” he hummed, “i don’t really like really social events much, lose energy at them far too quick” he laughed lightly.

“why don’t you follow me to that table at the balcony then? it’ll give you a break from everything else” you tried to persuade him.

“trying to get me away from everyone, are you?” he teased, wiggling his eyebrows but following you up on your offer regardless.

the view from the balcony was gorgeous, but part of you felt sick at how familiar it all felt, especially with him of all people. you shook your head, continuing to admire the view while trying to bite back the memories.

you felt something grasp at your hand, soft fingers wrapping around your own. you looked down at it to see jeonghan staring right back at you. and that was the last thing it took for tears to spill.

jeonghan panicked, cupping your face immediately and wiping away the tears, hushed whispers comforting you as he swayed you back and forth.

you couldn’t help the way you melted into his touch. you missed him too much. you didn’t fall in love with him again, you just never really fell out of love with him.

“you know..” jeonghan whispered, his chin pressed to the crown of your head, “that night i told you that i hated you..”

you felt like you were going to sob at him reminding you of that night before you nodded.

“i didn’t mean it. i could never hate you but i’d rather lie than live with the fact that you didn’t feel the same about me” he whispered.

“but i did feel the same about you hannie!” you cried, burying yourself deeper into his shoulder.

“then why didn’t you do something about it sooner yn?” his own voice cracked and he sniffled harshly, “you took so long and it was stupid of me but i couldn’t live like that anymore”

“no it wasn’t stupid of you” you hugged him tighter, “you were hurt and it was selfish of me to put you through all that”

the two of you stayed like that for a few minutes, crying and spilling your guts to each other. everything you both wanted to tell each other for last ten years spilling out now at once.

when you both pulled away, you stared at him for him a few more seconds. you brought your face closer to his, pressing your lips to his own. when he pulled away he smiled at you, the same smile that you’d loved for years. you took his hand in yours and looked at him seriously, “you were right about how i should stand up to my parents, so now i’m going to do something i should’ve done ages ago”

before you could take him to your parents, jeonghan stopped you. “what are you-”

“i already know you mean it now yn” he smiled at you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer to him, “i just needed to know you thought i was worth it. you don’t need to tell them now, im not in a rush. as long as i know you love me and that i love you, there’s no rush”

you nodded, tears welling up again and jeonghan cupped your cheeks again.

“my poor baby, what’s wrong?” he cooed at you.

“just missed you so much, glad we found each other again”

jeonghan smiled down at you before pressing a kiss to your forehead, “yeah? so am i”

[ccswife]

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Oh no.

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next

pairing๛: kate martin x iowau!reader

synopsis๛: kate catches you watching your saved edits of her.

not proofread so ignore spelling mistakes pls lol

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being a trainee under the strength and conditioning coaches for the Iowa womens basketball meant that you were constantly around the team. you found it hard to get used to all the personalities, but by your sixth year it became quite easy.

one person you particularly leaned towards when assisting was Kate Martin - a fellow sixth year and a phenomenal basketball player (as far as you knew). throughout the 3 years you had really known Kate, the two of you grew very close, exchanging 'i love you's and often sleeping at eachothers places. a lot of the girls wondered why you guys didnt just move in together.

one cool evening in iowa city, after a considerably hard practice and lift, kate decided to come home with you after her shower. you leaned against the wall outside the locker room playing on your phone, patiently waiting for the blonde to shuffle out with her bags.

'phwwtt!'

a loud whistle pulled your eyes up and towards the door. there came kate, her hair wet and barely brushed and her bags stuffed to the brim.

"i tried to shower as fast as i could and pack all my stuff up but it got a little messy so...." she spoke out in one breath.

"kate... you know i dont mind waiting," you laughed. kate usually does this, and it ALWAYS leads to her forgetting something important. whether it be her shoes (like, her actual shoes not her bball shoes), her whole bag of skincare, or her bra, etc.

kate shrugged with a goofy look on her face and shouted 'onwards!' before shuffle-running to get out to the parking lot.

the car ride over to your apartment was as usual; listening to music, chatting about school and practice, asking about the other girls lives. you often asked her about everyone else when you guys had sleepovers. its not that you don't know and love them, but you don't talk to them nearly as much as you do kate. everyone knew that. after settling in and grabbing snack and a spot on the couch, you pulled up tiktok on your phone and decided to go through your 'wbb😭😍' folder. you can't even lie and say you don't find kate and some of her teammates attractive. hell, one of the reasons you first talked to her was because of her beautiful face. but after you guys got so close, you deemed it inappropriate to tell her how you really felt. how she made your heart flutter when she called you 'n/n' and when she stared at you for a little longer than usual. you found out that people made edits of her after liking one womens basketball edit... one is all it took. at first it shocked you and you tried not to like any of them.. but you couldnt resist it. she looked so. damn. good. IN ALL OF THEM!!! sooner than later a folder was made and filled to the brim. a dabble of caitlin, paige and an occasional molly in there as well.

so, there you sat: munching on goldfish, one leg up on the couch and one leg dangling off, all while scrolling through various edits of your best friend.

oh yea, full volume too:D

kate walks into the living room and sees you on your phone. usually she tries not to snoop but something caught her eye. was that.. her?!?! on your phone screen?????? she watched you scroll and watched as her face popped up a dozen more times. caitlin as well. a million thoughts went through her head. why were you watching edits of her? did you like her like she liked you? you find her attractive?? why is caitlin in there.

she continued to stand there, mouth ajar, trying to find the right words to snap you out of your lull.

' y/n' she spoke up

your phone immediately shut off and you sat straight up, turning to look at kate with a beat red face. your hands start to move around frantically as you try to explain.

' i- im- i was just looking at some beacuse,-- well like i thought it was cool and-' words start flying out of your mouth.

'y/n,' kate spoke again. ' its ok. im just kinda caught off gaurd' rubbing her neck she looks around before making eye contact with you and smirking a little. your face twisted when she smirked. she thought this was funny??!

"what're you smirking at freak??" as you said that your heart dropped. her smirk only widened. "dont you dare kate." a demanding tone, one that you only use before she tickled attacks you or is about to yell something completely out of pocket to the girls.

kate inches towards you, causing you to put your phone behind your back. before you can even process her attack, she snatches your phone and unlocks it, quickly going into tiktok. at this point all you can do is sit and stare as she goes through your folder of wbb edits. occasionally she looks down at you, sometimes with a sweet look and others confused or.. offended? you couldnt tell.

after finishing, she hands your phone back to you and sits next to you on the couch.

"well," she starts. "who knew there was so many edits of me and caitlin!" her tone was light hearted but with a tinge of hurt and sarcasm. she turns to look at you.

"oh wait, you knew!" she yips. kate slaps your knee and laughs, and you couldn't help but join. she cracked jokes for at least another minute.

the vibe in the room after that changed in the slightest bit, the both of you holding your tounges, not wanting to be the first to acutally talk about what had just happened. when the clock hit 11:00pm, you both sauntered to the bedroom to hit the hay. hopping into your respective sides, and making sure you both had everything you needed. instead of a "i love you, goodnight!", kate just rubbed your cheek and smiled, then turned the other way.

before you fell asleep, you saw the light of her phone, and an edit of herself on the screen.

Oh no.

no no no no no. your heart started to race as you thought of everything that could happen. what if she doesnt wanna be my friend anymore? what if she tells the girls and they hate me? does she know i like her?

you curled up and tried to sleep away the thoughts. halfway asleep and arm snaked around you and stroked your arm, prompting you to fall soundly asleep.

"ill figure out what to say to you soon enough, love"

kate spoke under her breath only when she was sure you'd fallen asleep. soon she was out too.

Oh no... what will they do?

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A/N q(❂‿❂)p: i hope this isn't complete trash! i tried my best:))))) i had this little idea i forgot about in my notes lolll. i hope u guys enjoy and lmk if you potentially want another part ?!!?!! anyways toodles😜

[softandsourcream]

Stop, you’re losing me~ - one

————————•。・. ゜・。_________________

Summary: The last time you saw Yoongi wasn't one of your fondest memories. And actually, you thought that after ten years you no longer had any more tears to shed for that memory, for that situation, for him.

What was the problem with meeting him again at his brother's wedding, right?

Right?

pairing: idol! yoongi x vet!f reader.

Words: 9k

genre(s): angst, hurt- comfort, slow burn, fluff, smut (+18) (not this one tho)

au(s): childhood friends - to lovers, idol yoongi, normal vet reader, entertainment industry, denial and resentment.

warnings: curse words, family drama, grief, loss of loved ones, panic/anxiety attacks, damaged mental health, a LOT of struggling. Yoongi is here to help tho♡.

author’s note: just wanna let you all now that I’m so exited that this is out now! Hope you enjoy it and if you have any suggestion just let me know! I don’t bite 🐇. Also, English it’s not my fist language, so please be patient with this dumbass

~

IMPORTANT: this fic contains a lot of sensitive topics touched upon explicitly. Please, if any of the tags trigger something in you, stop reading. You’re more important, and there is much more content you can consume here. Take care please! ♡

enjoy!

—————————•。・゜ one゜・__________________

main masterlist

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“Where are you?”

“Outside.” In fact, he had gotten out of the car a second ago, and he wasn't going to answer, but he didn't know where they were either; the place was exaggeratedly large.

“Get in here then, you're late.”

“I’m at the entrance... where are you?” His voice breathless, he ran a lot in less than 20 minutes.

“Your brother is about to faint, so you’re going to see us easily. The first row.”

Yoongi hung up the phone, and sure enough, it wasn't difficult for him to find his family right at the end of the place. His brother looked around restlessly, probably looking for him or his fiancée, because he knew he was late, but he didn't seem to have started yet either.

His father, on the other hand, observed his brother's concern with the empty gaze he had always had from his seat, blinking slowly without saying much. He smiled a little at the scene (also a little relieved to finally be there) and started walking quickly, straight there, without looking at anyone else.

He greeted some of his aunts from afar, bowed to others he didn't know but greeted him, and ended up meeting his brother's eyes, almost finishing his journey. The concern on his face changed to one of anger, and he approached him as if suddenly he wasn't about to get married and be responsible for a family. His posture was the same as when they played as children, and his mother had to separate them for a toy.

It gave him chills.

“Hel-“

“Where the fuck were you.”

Yoongi frowned exaggeratedly at the bad word, looking at his father, who was watching everything in the same exact spot with the exact same cold and calm eyes.

“You’re not going to say anything to him?”

He didn’t respond, and Yoongi chuckled when his brother insulted him again.

“Calm down, if mom hears you, she-“

“You’re half an hour late, Min.” Finally, his father, mad. He can tell just by his voice. Yoongi shrank from the scolding and grimaced, looking at his brother.

“I’m sorry.” One. Sooner than he expected “They didn’t let me go sooner.” Greum-Jae didn't even seem interested in hearing an excuse; Yoongi had never seen him so angry before. But he still dared to continue speaking. “I get you’re mad, and I’m sorry, but don’t be mad with me right now. This is your day, we can fight later, and I’m here. I’m really sorry, for real, it wasn't my intention to ruin this for you.”

“Now it’s my job to be calm?” Jae fled from his touch. “To ignore your mistakes? You literally have one job.”

“I know I- I don’t have any other excuse, okay? I’m really sorry.”

Two.

It was subtle, but after a moment, his gaze softened, and so did his body, which was the most noticeable. Jae hugged him, and Yoongi smiled sadly, because he did feel bad, but, of course, it wasn’t the time to show it.

“You’re lucky she’s late too, and that I’m in a good mood right now.” He knows. “Missed you…”

“Me too.” His smell, his hugs, his voice. His home. He missed. “You are in a good mood, though? You look like you're about to throw up.”

He hit his shoulder, breaking the hug and getting closer to his father. Yoongi says hi to him without receiving a response, of course. He looked older and tired, which made him think about how long he had not set foot in that city. He squeezed his fist, unsettled. “I’m nervous; of course I look like that.”

Yoongi was going to ask why, genuinely interested, because he didn't understand why he should be nervous. He wasn't supposed to do anything more than 'yes, I do' and be with the person he loves most for the rest of his life. He also understood that, from the context, Yoongi would never understand it, and he didn't feel like doing it either. Also, he shouldn't be that direct, so he swallowed his question and leaned with both hands on the empty chair next to his father, placing all his weight on his arms.

He wanted to ignore the fact that he felt watched. There were a lot of people there. He hadn't taken a look to see how much he knew and how much he didn't, that was an activity he would leave for when they were dancing and there was less light. Right now he knew that everyone was looking at him, and he didn't like it because, although it was a family and private event, he couldn't completely ignore it. Photos of him would still come to light. It was, in fact, one of the discussions he had with the company days before.

“Your brother doesn't want to hear you, but I do. What is more important than your brother’s wedding now?”

Shit.

Jae was now talking to someone who came to tell him news about Eun, and he had walked away. He could only hear the echo of people talking, laughing, and happiness. Yoongi didn't want to have that conversation right now.

“It wasn’t my fault.”

“That wasn’t my question.”

“You’re being unfair right now.”

The man sighed.

“I’m just asking, Yoongi." And his voice sounds different too, so Yoongi didn’t like it. “If I’m not right, why don’t you tell me? You know I know when you're right, and I'm not. I'm not stubborn, you're locking yourself in."

Yoongi wrinkled his nose because he was right in a way, and he hated that it was like that. It was true; he didn't know why he felt so cornered all of a sudden. Stretching his arms and looking at the ground, he became a little dizzy. His whole body suddenly hurt; maybe all the fatigue of those months came upon him.

“Working.” He was honest even so, knowing what was coming. His father didn’t move in any sense. “I was working, but it wasn't'more important than this’. They wouldn't let me go, for real.”

“You didn’t take a day off?”

“I can’t. I’m on tour right now, and I asked permission, but you know that they’re not flexible with the times.

“Just like your mother's birthday. Or every Christmas.” He sounds sad now, almost disappointed. Mad, but really sad. “We invite you, but you never come. Your brother was shaking yesterday. He really wanted to see you.”

There was silence. A big one, where you could still hear the murmurs of the people, the echo of the grandeur of the place, the clicking of heels, and the shy laughter. He gave them both time to realize where they were, that they were in suits, and that, after all, he hadn't seen that man in a long, long time.

Yoongi's apology stuck in his throat—another genuine apology.

 

A third.

 

“I'm sorry, son.” His father says instead. Yoongi had heard it a few times in his 30s. “I understand. We understand, but... we always do. Me, your mother, and your brother today. He has all the right to be mad; we all are, but you’re doing your best, and we’re getting old too.” This time he looked at him, smiling a little. Yoongi does too, but his was a sad one. “Just don’t forget about your family. I just hope I make it to your wedding too.”

“Pff.” They laughed, and the son nodded, his nose still wrinkled just thinking about it. “I can only do the first one, sorry. That’s why Jae did it first. Maybe I don't invite you to a wedding, but you have been sitting more than once watching me in a stadium with more people than here.” He looked at his brother with his eyes. He continued talking to that woman, nodding, biting his lip, having an awful time, and if it wasn't bad, then something questionable. Yoongi could swear his palms were sweating. “I honestly don't feel like... being that worried.”

His father looked nothing in the front, with a smirk on his face. Yoongi realized how old he turned again.

“You just haven't found the right person to be like this for.”

That doesn’t sound like his father. At all.

He looked at him again and couldn't say anything when his brother was already in front of them, smiling and wiping the sweat from his hands.

He knew it.

“She’s about to arrive, take your seat.”

Yoongi left the back of the chair where there was supposed to be another person there who wasn't there, and frowning, he looked around the room without really doing it, realizing that he was missing someone to greet.

“Where’s mom?”

And as if he hadn't been listening to laughter, murmurs, and voices of people for ten minutes that filled his ears non-stop, right after that question, a specific laugh seemed to answer his doubt, reversing his pressure and causing a strong shiver to run down the back of his neck.

He turned quickly, perhaps even a little disbelievingly, and then, he saw you.

Not his mother, though. Or yes, her too, but his eyes fell on you first because it was always like that, because that was your laugh, and because it was impossible not to.

Far away. The possibility of having heard your laughter was quite unlikely, even impossible. Seven or eight rows back. Of course, you were wearing baby blue, delicate, and tight. The fabric didn’t shine like your gloves do, and you had your long hair loose, tied up from the top just a little. You laughed heartily, teeth on display, his mother being the cause of your smile and your bright eyes. Such honest and grateful happiness, because why not, you both looked exaggeratedly happy to be in front of each other again. Her mother held your hands tightly, moving them up and down in time with her words, and you just nodded and responded briefly.

His heart stopped. He could swear he had even forgotten to breathe.

Yoongi didn't enjoy eye contact.

He usually runs away from it. He feels stupid, and he gets embarrassed quickly. It's a tense situation for him, but he was wishing with all his might that you two had it at that moment. That his eyes were heavy enough for you to turn to look at him and take a good look at you because your eyes had always been big and expressive, and he needed to confirm that he wasn't hallucinating.

At least that's what they were like the last time he saw them, so many years ago that he couldn't count them, and from what he saw from there, many things had changed.

You look breathtaking. You've always looked this pretty, but right now… 

He didn't know if it was because he hadn't seen you in person for many years, up close, but unpleasant things were happening to him. His legs trembled when you finally looked back. Big eyes, make-up on, pretty color, and they opened, your moves frozen, and somehow, you two had an extremely uncomfortable visual conversation, as if you were face to face, and you didn't know what to say.

To his surprise, your gaze quickly changes to a more confident, almost cold look, and you bow with extreme lightness to say hello without intending to break contact. However, his mother did, hugging goodbye to you as soon as everyone started tidying up, music started playing, and Yoongi was forced to sit down, trembling, sweating, and unfocused, remembering how you looked.

He was there again, in real life, in Daegu, where he was born and grew up, where it was hot and dangerous to go out at night, where they used to live, and where he used to get lost when he could.

He had arrived that morning, but his brother, his parents, and you brought him back home.

“Shit.”

Not in a comfy, lullaby way. More like a cold water falling from the sky directly on the ground/ type of way.

He was there. You were there, feeling better than him, of course, but you don’t know. You had the whole month to mentally prepare for that reunion. Obviously you had a better handle on it, but you were also shaking, and you had to take a couple of breaths before you were ready for the wedding.

“Good?”

 

Seun was next to Greum when everything happened, in a way waiting as a spectator. Both in silence, from afar. Now he was waiting for you to respond, so he could start the recording in case you said something compromising. Both of you were in your assigned seats, with Jae at the altar.

“If it’s better than him, then yes, I’m great.” He laughed and checked at the entrance in case Eun was peeking out. He wanted to see her dress. You shake your shoulders, trying not to look in his direction again, releasing tension.

“Well, I don’t judge him. Jae didn’t tell him you were here.”

You scoff, “He didn’t? We're some show to you two or something?” putting your brother's arm away (with more force than necessary. It bothers you that he didn't take seriously how you felt. More now that you were especially sensitive) so you can record properly. The music began to overwhelm you a bit.

Now. Suddenly they were all in order, therefore quieter, so you two had to continue the conversation in whispers. Jae was waiting for his future wife; the doors of the place were open, but nothing was happening yet.

“He told me months ago that he wasn’t sure if he would arrive. The invitation was made, but he hasn't seen him for almost a year. When-“ he stops, unlocking his phone that had turned off for not pressing record yet, making you smile. Your older brother reminded you a lot of your father sometimes, and you rarely saw him so excited and well groomed at the same time. Your dress color and his suit matched too. His idea. “When Yoongi confirmed he was coming, Jae didn’t have the time to tell him. So yeah,” you looked at him when he did, blinking. “I know he’s feeling a lot of things right now.”

Well, that was weird.

That doesn’t sound like Yoongi, Yoongi loves his brother, his family, at least the one you know.

The type of relationship you had now (null) didn't allow you to say that out loud, and, strictly speaking, you didn't understand his reaction either. He looked genuinely surprised; it shouldn't affect him if he was the one who broke everything in the first place. You assumed it had just been the surprise, and it would take you a good stretch of the night to be able to let go of the fact that they were there, so close but so far, to let go of the possibilities of talking, hugging him, and telling him how much you had missed him, know about him, how he handled things. Just as before. Because it didn't help you to think like that, and because how pretty and beautiful your best friend looked right now, happy, in white, and excited, couldn't be placed on anything else.

You hoped you could breathe in peace for the rest of the night. Although at some point you thought you could do it without problems, because once you wiped away the tears that came out of you when you saw Eun enter and the ceremony took place, between your brother talking to you, you were laughing at him because he had also cried halfway through. On the way, the rest of your family arrived, and an inexplicable happiness that ran through you as you were surrounded by so many people that you knew and hadn't seen in years consumed you, your head stayed busy. A lot, and you still had it in mind, but you were not alone, and that made you feel good, safe, and a little calmer.

It was easy for you not to give him your night. At least the first part of it.

Apparently, after the ceremony, the party, and celebration would take place in the same place. You weren't really surprised, in fact, it moved you even more because the place was gigantic, very tall, and beautiful, almost like a theater, and there were many, many people, enough to fill the place. Not in a suffocating way, but enough to get lost. It was mostly of age, older people, maybe grandparents you hadn't managed to meet before, and then there were people directly younger, but you knew those, Seun was a people butterfly. Friends of theirs, you assumed. Actually, Seun stopped explaining who the boy was sitting next to one of her good friends when a man, tall and good-looking, started to talk on a microphone.

“Now, now, and congratulating the bride and groom once again, we would like to call the loved ones of both to say a few words before the fun part starts.

Everyone laughed, and Seun looked at you. You forgot about that part.

“Let’s start with the parents…”

“I can go for you instead.”

“It’s okay.” You smile. You knew that he was doing his best to be able to contain you, and give you the best company, despite the fact that it was not easy for him. “I’m not made of glass.” You joke, listening to Eun’s mother speak already.

And well, for him, you were. At least right now, but he didn’t say it, scoffing to hide his thoughts. “I’m trying to be good. Dad it’s watching now, I have to be an example.”

“For what.”

“Shut up, don’t be disrespectful.”

You try not to laugh. He was nervous now. You never understood why it was so difficult for him to admit that he cared for others. Not even with Jae he dared to do it, or at least that's what you thought. You didn't know how he would tell the truth in his speech.

You were the last one. You knew this because when you arrived, Jae told you. Eun wasn't supposed to know you were there. Of course, she had invited you, but she didn't know if you would finally attend because you hadn't been able to communicate with anyone these last few months. You met once, when she came to see you at your house, but you couldn't talk about much. You were on another planet, it was like your head was disconnected from your body most of the time, and she assumed you wouldn't go. 

You wanted to think that she hadn't seen you when she passed, but you doubted it. With the amount of people there, and with how focused she was on Jae, it was impossible.

Still, you were nervous. When you accepted, you didn't think you would be in front of so many people. Your heart was beating.

“Is that Yoongi?” Nara, your sister, asked your mother just behind you when he got position and greeted everyone.

“Yeah. Why he wouldn't?” Your mom responded a bit confused. You could hear her smile.

“I think you all were joking when you told me he was on BTS, for real. It doesn’t look at all like the Yoongi I knew.” You hear a laugh, a gentile one, and then your other brother making fun of her behind. Your dad scolds them.

Now, you take advantage of the moment to take a better look at him.

You wanted to blame it on the fact that your sister was only nine when she met Yoongi, and every time he appeared on TV or in videos she was told it was him, she just couldn't believe it. You just hoped those were her blurry memories of him, because you couldn't see him too differently from how you remembered it.

Maybe his hair was longer, he was paler, taller, his back had grown considerably, and he had that special glow that any celebrity would have. He looked like an entire adult now, too. He wore expensive clothes and good shoes, although he didn't seem to have put any effort into his hair, or his appearance in general, he looked incredibly unreal, so much that it makes you angry.

If you thought about it enough, and if you didn't know it was him, you would’ve struggled to recognize him too. You often saw him in magazines, posters, on buildings in Busan, on train pamphlets, on your cell phone and even in medicine, but seeing him in person was overwhelming. It was like seeing a stranger you already knew, but better yet, he was there, but at the same time he wasn't.

You take a deep breath when you realize that, despite all those things, his features were still just as soft and delicate, just like his mother's.

His knuckles still turned red without much effort, and he smiled the same way, making that slight pout with his lips before crying, trying to contain it, and he wiped the tears carelessly. You found your Yoongi in the one you were looking at right now, with little things, with gestures, with details that you used to admire more than necessary, they were still there.

and it made you feel nauseous.

You blinked a few times, snapping out of your trance as everyone applauded, and realized you hadn't heard a single word. He had even cried, and you didn't know why. You saw Jae stand up as he was called to take position on the small stage, and a much louder round of applause made you jump lightly. They came from behind, just that young section that assumed they were friends of both. There were a lot of people, and it didn't surprise you that Seun was already fooling around on his way to the small stage there.

“How are you feeling, blossom?"

Your father asked, taking advantage of the fact that you turned around to look at the crowd and that your brother was not there. They were both looking at you, and the rest of your brothers were talking among themselves.

“I'm okay.” It wasn't necessarily a lie. You felt just as bad as you do every day. Besides, you knew that they were referring to something more specific (Min Yoongi) than to your general emotional state, so you smiled slightly, closed, and placed your hand on your mother's, who was on your arm. “I’m good; don’t worry.”

As you predicted, Seun's speech was so unserious and absurd that it's not worth dwelling on. For some reason, everyone was laughing with him, he had livened up the atmosphere and unintentionally infected everyone with joy.

He soon returned to his seat and sat still with applause in the background. You couldn't believe it.

“I don’t get why he’s still your friend.”

“We’re in love, sister.” He asure. “This wedding is for three people. They will never get rid of me.”

“Shut up.”

“Now.” The good-looking man says “Briefly before eating and doing fun things, we have one more person who wants to wish you both the best, of course.”

You can see Eun’s confused look at her husband now, and he quickly grabs her hand. Your heart was ricing, you felt your mother's hand on your shoulder.

“Park ___, please."

Eun almost jumped from her seat, looking around, looking for you. You also saw someone else look for you in the crowd when you were getting up a little stiff because of your dress. You say sorry to an old woman right in front of you, who you accidentally hit softly because Seun didn’t move at the right moment.

“Oh my god.”

You didn't have time to get halfway down the hall to the front when a large white dress ran towards you to hug you. You smiled at the impact because you were a little taken aback by how strong it came and how big her dress was. You smiled when you already had her in your arms.

“You have been here all this time?”

“Of carouse.”

“Oh my god, thank you…” she softly says, hugging you even harder.

“I wouldn’t miss the happiest moment of your life.”

Because it had cost you, but you had arrived. Was she crying? Thank goodness people were still clapping because of the moving nature of the situation, and they couldn't hear you. You were trying so hard not to cry too.

If you did it, you wouldn't stop.

“I know you-“

“It’s okay.” You stopped her. “I’m okay.”

You squeezed her waist as a signal for you to start moving, and she moved away from you to caress your face lovingly and look at you like... most people have looked at you lately with pity and kissed your forehead.

Pity.

 

She took your hand, and the entire way, you could feel Yoongi's gaze on you. From the moment she hugged you until she kissed you and started leading you forward, like an exhibition, heavy, right next to you. He made you feel small, it was silly.

“Now stop crying; I haven't said anything yet.” You start, with the microphone in your hands, making everybody laugh, the couple too, Jae helping her with the tears. The place was in silence, the lights, the eyes, and the attention were just on you. So you take a deep breath and unfold the paper you’ve got prepared. “I- uh~” a sigh. “I don’t know how people do this without crying, I- okay.” You were nervous, but the place laughed again, so it gave you time to breathe.

“I still remember you both being taller than me, smarter than me, and older than me. I know that deep down all of you were so done of me, right behind there too,” all those people scream from behind, and you laugh. “because I used to talk a lot, and I carry my toys everywhere, so I can show it to all of you, and I made too many questions for people who are starting to be teenagers and want to look cool, but I wasn’t. I didn’t even care, I remember that. I was the pain in the ass that comes with Seun. Just a plus because Seun it’s a bother himself.” The aforementioned rolled his eyes, and you waited for there to be silence so you could continue. “I understand that now, and I just came here to apologize.” 

The atmosphere after the laughter was now a little solemn, and in contrast to your brother, you were capable of poisoning the things you touched, and those who knew you knew that. You could see the newlyweds were a little worried, but you kept smiling, giving them confidence that nothing bad was going to happen. At least that wasn't your intention.

“Sorry for being the impediment for you to go out late at night or for having to return early from wherever we were... I- was with you.” Uh. You try to keep the smile. Shit, “sorry for being so annoying, and sorry for the fact that I didn't care. Because as much as I didn't like being with you sometimes, the best part of my day was watching you eat at my table, or Mrs. Min organizing my birthdays, and everyone coming with gifts that I genuinely liked because you all heard what I was saying even if I was giving you a headache.”

Unintentionally, you met those eyes again from afar, just when you were trying to control that lump in your throat because the worst part was coming, and you didn't know if you were ready. You said the following while still looking at Yoongi, not at you, surprisingly. “I miss it. I really do, and I’m so grateful that I carry all that with me.”

You look at the paper, change the page, and breathe. So you try once “I-“ and twice. “I- um…” a shaking breath sounds everywhere, reading the words, but you just can’t. “Sorry~” you're softly trying to laugh as you cry start, and you feel so stupid for breaking in front of a lot of people. No because it was bad, everybody there cried before you, but not because of the same thing.

“I love you!” You didn’t know who it was, but you smiled and responded with a really quiet and shaking'me too', giving you time to breathe as everybody laughed, and the atmosphere eased.

“Okay.” You say more to yourself, but you have a mic on your mouth, of course. “I didn’t write this part alone. Kija he… he is my twin, so of course he was with me in all of this story, but when he got sick and we were writing this months ago, he told me that I didn’t mention him in all this because it was going to be about me, not him… he’s kinda dumb.” 

You laugh, trying not to tear up. You were holding the next tears, but like, fighting demons and everything to not cry. You, for real, didn’t want to cry in front of all those people. Your voice was obviously trapped in your chest, and it was shaking, but you couldn't do anything but breathe. You just have to be quick. 

“But he told me that he wanted to tell you both that he and I were very proud to have seen you grow together, hate each other together, and deny that you liked each other together and today, for me, seeing you two married means a lot. I adore you two with all my heart. Congratulations, and I know you’re going to do a great job. I'm sure Kija would have done a better job telling him in person, but I'm here for him, so you know. He would- have loved to come, I have no doubt. Be happy, please, and no babies yet; I’m not ready.”

You didn’t remember anything after that, which means two things:

One, you need to calm down because two, you weren’t fine.

You remember the hug, and a few words both of them told you, and all the looks people gave you just after that, full of sadness and compassion (which was the first thing that made you want to run away). And at the party, you dance because you enjoy it, and you feel a little better, but people stop you all the time to give you their condolences because “they didn’t know”.

The cake was cut, the presentation was done, and you could only come back to the moment when you had your first drink of whiskey, and your body told you that it wasn’t a good idea. Your heart was fast in your chest, that would only make it worse with alcohol.

You need to breathe.

 

“Sorry, what?!”

 

You scream behind the music. Some girl named Hwan stopped you. (It came right at the beginning, when Seun was next to you, and you were pretending to listen to how she had recently graduated. Poor girl, honestly, she looks kind and lovely.) with two glasses of tequila and some salt in her hand. 

“My friend!” She said. “I lost him, so take this!”

 And then:

“Hurry! I have to go for more before they run out!” You were too agitated for this. This is a bad idea ___. “c’mon c’mon honey!”

Your hands were tingling, your breathing was short, and you were afraid. You had tried to go to the bathroom, but it was full, and it was even more claustrophobic than all those people. Right next to it, there were some stairs that you assumed went up to the balconies that surrounded the place. You were very grateful that it was high, enough to encapsulate the music on the floor below, and you heard it as if you were listening from a glass.

Or was it you? 

You leaned on the railing and began to sweat. You closed your eyes, trying to calm down little by little, to look for things to think about, to feel something other than fear and anguish at the same time, but it was impossible, completely, and that made you even more desperate. You were breathing as if you had just run for two hours non-stop, and there came a point where your legs couldn't support your body. You couldn't feel your hands, cried a lot, trying to catch air, moaned in terror.

“please please please… stop just-“

You were trying not to faint, you were on the edge of a high place, and it was now dark for those below. It was when you felt like you really couldn't do anything. That you tried to stand back in case your body gave way forward, and it wasn't more dangerous when you felt hands on your stomach directly and the warmth of a body behind you.

A warm feeling that felt like burning on a straight fire

“Easy~ here,” you heard, far away from you, just like the music in a glass. The only thing that told you that he was literally glued to you was his touch. “Can you feel my hand?” You didn't respond, trying to run away. You didn’t want to be touched. “Hey, it’s okay, you’re safe. If you want to feel better, you have to answer me, okay?”

“Hmm” a moan full of pain, was not even an answer.

“Okay?” They asked again. This time you nodded and felt the hand move on your stomach, the fingers more than anything, like playing a piano. Soft, but rough at the same time. “Can you feel it?” Your two hands were placed on his in an attempt to find support; you couldn't feel your legs, and after giving him an affirmative answer with your head, you complained again, your head was about to explode. “Move my hand with your stomach as you breathe.” And you did. Erratic and desperate “That’s good, but try it slower. Focus on moving it, not on breathing.”

“I- I ca-“

"Yes, you can. You do it every day; come on.”

You know, you just didn’t want to be there.

You try your best to move his hand. It was hard because you were sobbing, and trying your best to not think too much. So you closed your eyes, exhausted, and concentrated on the warmth that the stranger was giving you and the hold that, while at first it felt overwhelming and suffocating, now it helped. You felt stronger, even though you were about to faint.

So you moved the hand, and it worked.

“Good~ breathe.”

The air filled your lungs little by little, your head began to quiet, and the music entered your ears at a decent volume considering how far you were from the ground. Your hands were cold, they were shaking, but you could move them, and you still couldn't feel your legs, but you could hear the trembling of your breathing and how your nervous system was trying to regulate itself, blocking your crying in your chest.

You were exhausted, god, you would sleep there if you could.

“Better?”

And then you realize.

 

You know that voice.

 

It was soft, deep, and in your ear. So close that if you turned to see him, both of you would collide. His hands were bigger than they used to be and softer to the touch, pale on your baby blue dress, no scrapes like you used to heal, he’s no longer biting his nails.

‘Shit’

“Don’t touch me.” You said. He tense.

“If I let you go, you will fall. You're not even holding yourself up.”

He was right. And you hate it.

“What are you doing here.”

Your voice sounded agitated, almost like a whisper. You still didn't dare open your eyes; your eyelids were heavy, and the fear of facing him so close made you delirious. Even though you had your back turned to him, you felt him snort.

“God. You’re welcome?” You clung tighter to his hand. It's just that you got dizzy, and he held you when he felt you give way to the left. “I should ask that. You almost passed out on the railing, idiot, that's… fucked up.”

He calls you an idiot? You were too weak to call him something worse.

So you only say "sorry." Instead, letting him go finally, and you tried to stand up by yourself, but you wobbled

“Okay, okay, please don’t. I’m gonna…” His hands took place on your hips to guide you to some chairs in the corner, which you didn't see at first, of course. You weren't sure if his touch hurt more now that you were more conscious or before, when you were overstimulated. Felt the same, honestly. “Be careful, they look old.” You walked as he commanded, and once you sat down, you heard him say something you couldn't decipher. You finally opened your eyes to ask, but there was no sign of anyone.

Sighing, you rested your head in your hands and closed your eyes again. You didn't know if you were still dizzy and weak or if you felt that way because you were already drunk. They both make sense to you.

You heard noise after a few seconds and looked up. Finally, Yoongi's silhouette appeared in the hallway, he had things in his hands, and he was looking at the glass of water, concentrating so that nothing would fall on the floor.

“I’m definitely too drunk for this.”

This can't be happening to you. Could not.

“I put ice on it, so you can chew. It will help.”

His voice sounded unfriendly to what he was saying. Not angry or indifferent, but rather nervous and tense, as if he were speaking by opening his mouth a little, trying to make you believe that it was no a big deal, as always, but his nervousness didn't allow him to fool you. You raised your eyes to look at his, and he turned them away once you brought them together. You tried to hide a smile as you received the glass. Of course, he couldn't look you in the eyes. He cleared his throat, finally watching you receive the water, trembling in your hold. He tries to hold it from below in case you drop it.

You took a sip.

“Your makeup is smudged.”

Of course. You must have been looking stupid.

“What is that?"

He was offering you something, like toilet paper, but softer on a package. You couldn't see very well, it was just white.

“I’m not really sure.” He confesses. “I take them from the bathroom. They’re damp.”

You touch it with two of your fingers, just to not be rude, honestly.

“Thanks, but I can’t really see myself here.” There was no mirror, and if there was, it was dark. The only lights there were those on the dance floor, which were colored and did not shine directly on the place you two were having this... moment. “I don’t really care though, I’m living soon anyway”

He didn't insist, putting the package in his pocket. You maintained a silence that would have been more awkward if the music downstairs wasn't on, and if you didn't have anything to chew at that moment. Neither of you dared to look at each other, or start a conversation because it wasn't even enough for something cordial. You didn't have the strength to get up and run away, but just when you were going to tell him that you were okay, and he could leave, he took something out of his pocket.

Now you are invested.

“You mind if I smoke?”

You looked at him from there, taking time to process the information. You shook your head slightly, maybe even confused, but there was no point in being.

“Can you even smoke here?”

The place was big but closed, you didn't know if it was allowed.

“I doubt it.”

“Since when do you smoke?” You dared to ask.

“I don’t.”

No, because he hates the smell. His mother has smoked since ever. Yoongi hates that the smell gets stuck in everything and everywhere. No matter how much his mother smoked outside the house, he always ended up with his school clothes smelling like cigarettes. It was inevitable. He always complained.

There you were watching him right now, right in profile, blowing smoke from his cigarette as if he did it every day, even though he said he doesn't. Arms resting on the railing, well-dressed, looking anywhere but at you.

You wanted to stop assuming that this Yoongi was the same one who had left years ago. Because you didn't know, you were both two completely new people, total strangers who knew nothing about each other, yet, you wanted to think that, if that were the case, he would have already left. He usually walks away from what he doesn't care about or doesn't like, that's what he did with you when he left, because that's how you felt. It was nice to believe that he was now there himself because he wanted to be, but it didn't help you to think about it, not now. Just because he was there didn't mean he was back in your life, and as silly as it sounded, your brain didn't understand that. It was your job to stop him from believing something like that.

You chew ice.

“I don’t want to ruin the party for you. Go ahead.” Your voice is still dumb. He was watching the people dancing from there, now he was looking at you, smoking the cigarette between his fingers without understanding what you meant. “I’m feeling better, you can go.”

“Okay.” He directed his body directly towards you. Unintentionally intimidating. “Do you want me to go?”

His presence made you anxious.

“Yes. But if I’m honest, I don’t really want to be alone right now.” He hums. “But I have seven siblings, and all of them are downstairs right now. I can call any of them.”

“They will scold you for not saying anything and me for not seeking help.”

“I know.” He looked at you, quietly. “I just don’t want to... keep you here. Have some fun.”

He shook his head, looking away.

“It’s okay. I was here first, drinking. Then you came. You scared me.”

You blink a few times. “You’ve spent all the night in here?”

“Most of it.” You followed his eyes down on the first floor, full of people. You could see everything from there. If you focused on one person, you could easily track them. “Enough to watch you dance and get drunk.”

“Creep.” He smiles a little.

“That’s why I wasn’t sure it was you. I went to get my whiskey, and I swear I saw you two minutes before taking a shot of tequila. I thought you were just drunk.”

You frowned, settling into the couch. You felt genuinely bad.

“Now I’m scared. For real.”

“Not intentional. I can literally watch my brother kiss Eun from here every five minutes, even if I don’t want to.” Yoongi plays with his ice, then drinks the rest in one go.

You gulped.

Thinking about it more was counterproductive for your mental health, you knew it, you understood it, it was practically self-sabotage, but right now, you gave yourself perhaps ten seconds to admire the beauty that Min Yoongi carried all by himself.

He looked so different, and everything that had changed elevated his beauty to places... god. You had met at a very young age too, in years, you could also say that you had changed enough to be mentioned at some point by a family member who hadn't seen you in a while, for example. You are an adult now, but it was impressive.

To think that you stopped seeing Yoongi right when he was being built into an idol says a lot. Everything about him looked expensive and well cared for, his soft hair, smooth skin, long eyelashes, immaculate hands, as if they were not obliged to do anything that would harm them. How his throat moved as the drink passed into his system, the lack of reaction of his features despite being strong, and having drunk almost half of the short glass.

The feeling that rose to your stomach made you come back, and from well-being, it turned into discomfort in your chest. He was there, he looked so attractive, and you couldn't do anything.

You couldn’t hug him, tell him how much you missed him and hit him nonstop because even when you’re still so into him, you were hurt too, and this situation was so out of your hands.

“I’d liked your speech. It was good.”

You wanted to tell him that you hadn't done it alone, but why would you do that? You didn't answer.

“You’re still writing?”

This time, you denied it almost instinctively. The truth is, you didn't want to give additional information to, in a way, a stranger, but you had already screwed up. “No. A long time ago I-“ stopped when you left, but of course you kept quiet.

When it was about Yoongi and whether you thought about the young you who loved that person in front of you so much and how dependent you were on someone who didn't care how you felt, it made you feel so stupid. And it didn't really make sense because you were young and inexperienced, and you had an important bond, so of course you will be hurt, you had more compassion than resentment. But still,

“-just don’t do it anymore.”

You didn't want to feel that weak again. He nodded.

“Why haven't you left if you don't want to be here?” You changed the topic. You weren't looking at him, but you felt his attention return to you, and he responded with his silence, then you looked up, and he avoided you again. “You're still not a party guy?” He didn't respond again, knowing that you knew the answer, so you smiled. “Yeah, you weren't either back then.” You say that just for yourself.

“I want to, though. Hyung it’s happy, and I haven't seen my family in a long time. My dad told me he was waiting for my wedding too. I stayed so maybe the event convinced me.”

“Your dad?” He nodded in disbelief as well. “That doesn’t sound like your dad. And also, the event?” A snort left your mouth as he looked at you, nodding. “ I don’t think it’s just about the event, you know?”

“Yeah. He told me that too.”

You laughed this time. You like that men.

“That doesn’t sound like him either.”

“I know.”

You missed Yoongi’s parents. They were so different from yours.

“You were, I remember.”

“What.”

“A party person. I always went with you and watched you dance because I didn't like it. Then we would leave late and buy ice cream at the convenience store downtown because you always craved some.” You nodded, trying to manage the pain that the memory caused you. “I've never seen you cry in one before.”

You played with the ice that was left, because the question was not directly a question, it was more of a mention, perhaps so as not to ignore what just happened. He knew you wouldn't answer and that you shouldn't either. You wrinkled your nose, uncomfortable.

“Where do you learn all of it?”

 

Containment, you meant.

 

“Hm.” He took a second. “These ten years have been interesting.” A laugh, and you try your best again. “I saw a member of our staff do it to Jungkook once, the first time. We were very young, but I’ve never forgotten it in case it happened again. It happened a couple of times after that, so I… know.”

And it's as if the anguish you had come back to you once you touched where his hands were for the first time in 10 years, and you had to close your eyes just because you felt upset. You didn't want to be there, you remembered. Not only because you didn't want to see him, but because you didn't feel well, and you put him over your emotions again.

Fucking hell.

“Your brother it’s looking for you.” You nodded, opening your eyes slightly.

“Of course he is…” you murmured, overwhelmed, trying to stand up. But you were feeling bad again, so you waited a little.

“Do you want me to-“

“No.”

You didn't know why you were so angry all of a sudden. Your heart was beating again, you started to feel warm even though the place was quite cold because of how big it was, and you were actually grateful that they cared about you, but you had spent all those months feeling like a burden to others.

You tried not to cause too many problems, you didn't want that kind of attention, especially after having been living alone, away from your family for so long, to live with them again. You went from making your own food to your mother having to sit next to you so you could eat something. From leaving early to work to not even knowing what time it was. From calling them to tell them good things, to having to pretend to sleep so as not to receive questions you didn't want to answer. You couldn't take care of yourself, it was something that you were having a hard time facing, because you wanted to do it, to be well so as not to be the burden of your family, but the pain you had was still just as big, and heavy, and it enveloped your entire chest. Squeezing. It didn't let you swallow, speak, cry, or breathe.

You were crying again. This time in silence, you didn't care that Yoongi was watching you in silence too, not knowing what to do.

"Where's the… dump thing you bought.”

He reacted a little slowly but quickly, searching for it, taking it out of his jacket pocket. You nodded.

“Can you clean my face, please? I don’t want to look like this when he finds me, and he will if I go to the bathroom right now.”

That one seemed to get him out of somewhere, because it did take him longer to process the information. He was standing with the towels in his hand and blinking, almost like a cat, a confused one. He didn't say anything, and you didn't think you had said anything wrong, so you got scared, and you wondered if maybe you, in fact, said something wrong.

“I can try, though. You don’t-“

“I’ll do it.”

He sits on the coffee table in front of you. You can smell his strong and manly cologne, and if you raised your eyes to his face enough, you could see him up close, closer than you had for many years again. Older, smelling that way, his marked features but you didn't. Of course not.

You close your eyes.

The two of you were silent, and it took you a few minutes to begin to feel the softness with which he ran over your face, the left side of your cheek, extremely light, almost afraid to touch you. You opened your eyes, and he wasn't looking where he was supposed to clean.

He looked at your face, carefully, perhaps making sure it was really you who was in front of him. He stopped his hand when your eyes connected, and it lasted only a few seconds, but you felt so much tension that you even doubted if it was wrong for you to pretend as if you didn't have things to talk about, before having any kind of contact. Whatever it was.

After that, he looked at you with pity.

The last one that night, you decide.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

You were stronger than him when it came to holding a gaze. He has always been the first to escape, which is why your gaze was very intense, heavy, and powerful. You could do it because you felt it was the most honest way to know if someone could handle you.

“Sorry.”

Yoongi had never been able to look at you for more than five seconds.

He resumed his work with the same smoothness. The music returned to your ears, and you returned to your place, to your life, to the now and to how your body was screaming to get out of there. You closed your eyes, chest tight and hands tense, trying to control their shaking.

You have bigger things to cry about right now than this. You had done it for a long time now; you had no more tears to cry for Min Yoongi, no reason to be nervous anymore, and no reason why you couldn't live in peace anymore.

“I’m sorry about Kija.” His voice was smooth, almost lullaby. He sounds nervous too, and just because of that, your response was also automatic. If it had been genuine, you would have had another panic attack right there.

 

“It’s okay.”

 

‘You are grieving. Don't expect anything better. Let us help you’

 

They were all grieving too.

 

“And I’m sorry I wasn’t- I didn’t know.”

There. Was there when you wanted to scream and punch him so hard enough to make him feel guilty.

“What do you mean.” To be honest, it doesn't even surprise you. You sensed it, but you had the small hope that he saw it… at least. “I texted you. Jae- he give me your number. I was waiting for you at his funeral.”

“Y/N…”

“It’s okay.”

 

You said instead. Yoongi looked terrified.

 

“I-“ he cut himself. “…was-“

You take his hand softly, stopping him. “It’s okay, Yoongi.”

“Wait.” One of his hands is on your wrist, preventing you from getting up. You didn't feel good, but you would do anything to get out of there. Still, you sat back down because you didn’t expect it.

“I’m sorry.”

 

Three.

 

The only thing you could hear was your heart beating; everything went quiet, and the words went away, an echo.

“It’s” You were far enough away to miss his scent or to see his new appearance. It was as if he disappeared into the darkness. “okay.”

And it was okay, not because that was exactly how it was, but because it didn't matter. It was okay because it didn't matter if he responded or not, he didn't have to. You were the one who was doing wrong by continuing to trust someone who had already failed you many times, and now you were choosing not to fall for anything sure.

It was okay, because there was no important bond that bonded you two, and allowed you to do bad things where there was nothing good to destroy.

And it was okay, because you simply didn't want to continue having him in front of you, talking about one of the most important people in your life, and seeing how he looked at you with pity. So it was okay.

 

But Yoongi had said sorry three times that day, and he hadn't been able to genuinely fix any of them.

—————————•。・. ゜・。_______________

teaser masterlist two

—————————•。・. ゜・。_______________

[just-jordie-things]

[part two] trouble - takuma ino

word count: 9k warnings: swearing, drinking, slight harassment (a creep puts his hand on reader's waist for 0.2 seconds) summary: she's only agreed to one night out- and that doesn't mean anything at all. it also doesn't mean anything that a few drinks has her admitting that ino's eyes are actually quite pretty. contents: rivals to begrudged friends, gojo!reader, nanami leaves the function at his first oppurtunity, ino and (y/n) have an alcohol fueled breakthrough.

part two: "got so much to prove" ___

Gojo Satoru was nothing like his sibling counterpart, and she was dead set on keeping it that way.  Where he was overbearing, she was uninvolved.  Where he was obnoxious, she was reserved.  For most of her life she could recall trying to steer herself into the opposite direction Satoru was heading.  

That was, until it came to sorcery.

If it weren’t for him, she wouldn’t have needed to crawl up a ladder to claim the Grade One title.  If it weren’t for him, she could’ve made a name for herself rather than live in the shadow that was their family name.  If it weren’t for him, she wouldn’t be stuck in this too-loud bar throwing back too-weak drinks.

Nanami didn’t seem too thrilled about having his evening decided for him, either.  He was nursing his third beer and the alcohol still hadn’t loosened him enough to lose the look of pure disinterest on his face.  (y/n) couldn’t blame him, seeing as she didn’t want to be here either.

Takuma, on the other hand, was having the time of his life.  He’d eagerly ordered them a round of shots despite their protests, claiming it was a right of passage for their first outing together.

“I’m not taking a shot,” Nanami had pushed his glass to the center of the table, refusing it as soon as it was set in front of him.  “I have to be home by eight” 

“Eight?” Takuma gasped incredulously at his early retirement.  “But Gojo’s car won’t be here till eleven-” 

“Dibs” (y/n) plucks the extra shot off the counter, tapping it once against the table before throwing it back with ease.  

The other two are left to stare at her in shock, neither knowing how to react.  She’s quick to chase it down with her own shot in rapid succession, not a single flinch or twitch from the burning sensation left in her throat.  Nanami and Takuma share a quick glance, but it doesn’t go unnoticed by the young Gojo.

“What?” She asks innocently, propping her elbow on the table to rest her chin in her hand.  “Been a long week, no?” 

“It’s just… Satoru doesn’t drink” Nanami shrugs at the simple statement, leaning back against his chair.

(y/n) pauses, her brow twitching in the smallest of movements.

Even without him around, she was being compared to him.  And hearing it come from Nanami, whom she’d spent years looking up to, snapped her final straw.

“Right…” She drawls the word out slowly, and Nanami waits all too patiently for whatever she had to say next.  “Well since it is our first outing, let’s establish this once and for all, shall we?” 

And then she grins, which sends warning flags up in Takuma’s mind when she leaves the table and approaches the bar.  He turns back to Nanami with his worry evident on his face.

“That’s not good,” He says in a hushed voice.  “I’ve only ever seen her smile like that when exorcizing curses” 

Nanami only chuckles half heartedly, more than familiar with the way the Gojo siblings’ shared wicked grin.

Ino’s not so amused, but he does his best to get excited when (y/n) comes back with a stronger drink and another round of shots for the three of them.  Nanami refuses this one as well, and this time they let it sit on the center of the table unclaimed.

To his surprise, she taps her shot glass against Ino’s when he picks it up, eyeing the auburn liquid with uncertainty.  This would be his second shot in the span of only ten minutes, and it would be her third.  There had to be some ploy behind it, right? 

“Whatever it takes to prove to you both I’m not my brother, name it,” (y/n) announces before throwing back the shot.  “It can be like a game!” She decides, eyes lighting up with the idea.  If she notices the way Nanami and Ino seem unsure and uncomfortable with the sudden swing in behavior, she doesn’t show it.

“A drinking game?” Ino asks, not quite following her train of thought.

“Sure,” She nods at him.  “Like a truth or drink sort of thing? That works” 

“I’ve got one, then,” Nanami leans back onto the table, suddenly joining the conversation.  His pupils seem surprised, but both excited in their own way to have him participate  “That Grade Two at the playground, last week, did you lie in your paperwork?” 

A more authentic looking beam stretches over (y/n’s) face, and she laughs as she considers taking a drink, but she supposes he’d have his answer if she did, so she might as well fess up.

“About the swingset being torn apart?” She asks with a raised brow.  “Yes, I lied about that” 

“You lied in your report?” Ino gasps in shock.  “What’d you say?” 

“She claimed the swings had been torn away from their posts before she arrived on the scene” Nanami explained with a huff.

That earned another gasp from Ino before he turned back to (y/n) with wide eyes and an awkward sort of smile, like he was excited to have caught her in something, even though she’d admitted to it herself.

“You chopped down a children’s playground?” 

“It was a swingset,” She corrected.  “And it’s structural integrity was fine.  The city could afford to replace the swing itself.  It’s practically just rope” 

Nanami shakes his head, although he’d already had an inkling her report on that assignment was less than truthful.  He had stopped by to take account of the damage done, and it seemed to him like the scraped metal of the playset’s structure could have only been chinked up by a large blade.  Like an axe.

A few more random questions come up between the two, most of them work related.  The questions are all over the place however, with Nanami trying to get her to admit to more discrepancies in her paperwork, and Ino trying to learn anything and everything he could.  So she never quite knew what was going to be asked of her.

More often than not, Nanami’s questions led to her drinking.  Whereas Ino’s…

“Do you have any tattoos?” 

She wants to laugh, and ask him if he’s sure that’s what he wants to know.  But Nanami’s already got her another two drinks down, so she finds herself lifting up the hem of her shirt, just enough to put her hip bone on display, earning shocked looks from both men as they stared holes into the ink on her skin.

“When did you get that?” Nanami asks, his eyebrows nearly to his hairline when (y/n) looks up at him with a lazy smirk.

“I was sixteen, and you weren’t around at the time” She states matter-of-factly.

Ino’s laughing, and maybe cheering as he throws back the rest of his drink and makes his way to the bar for another.  (y/n) wouldn’t admit that she was having a good time, but it was quite entertaining to watch their reactions.

“That’s enough insight for tonight” Nanami sighs before getting up from his seat.  (y/n) watches as he lifts his jacket from the back of his chair, loosely shrugging it on.  A small knot forms between her brows.

“You’re actually gonna leave?” She asks, and if he didn’t know any better, Nanami might think she’s frowning because she’s disappointed to see him leave.  

“I’ve already stayed later than I planned,” He answers dryly.  “But you should stay, Ino too,” He adds, nodding to the sorcerer at the bar desperately trying to get the bartender’s attention.  “Make your brother pick up the tab” 

“He said it was on you” (y/n) replies with a shrug, before taking a sip of her drink.  

Nanami rolled his eyes as he turned to go, grumbling something about how a Gojo could be trying to pass off the bill.  (y/n’s) laughing as he leaves, and he’s almost compelled to stay, just for the sake of watching her open up more than he’d seen in years, but he supposes he’s not the one who needs that tonight.

Ino’s surprised when he comes back to the table with a fresh drink and hand, only to find Nanami missing.  He glances at the empty seat with a furrowed brow before turning to (y/n), who shrugs.

“Guess he wasn’t kidding about turning in early” She muses, pushing the ice in her glass with her straw.  Ino seems to pout at that.

“Too bad, I thought we were having a good time” He says as he takes his seat across from her.

(y/n) regards him with a slight tilt of her head, as if he were a stranger she were noticing for the first time.  As always, his mask sat on top of his head, posed as a beanie, and as he turned away to glance across the crowded bar, she’d never noticed before, but the curve of his cheekbones were defined.  Sharp, even.  Her gaze continued to linger, noticing the same detail about his jawline.  Had she really never noticed before, or was the dim lighting doing him a favor by putting his facial features on display? 

“Is this your idea of a good time?” She asks suddenly, and his attention is swiveling back to her.  Even with the lights shifting across his face, the defined features still stuck out to her.  “Going out somewhere crowded and noisy?” 

Ino laughs at that, every part of his expression lighting up with his delight, and once again (y/n) wonders if someone’s purposefully messing with the lights to put a spotlight on him.

Her brother’s words from their last phone call start to penetrate her thoughts against her will.  She tries to shake them off, but it’s hard when his brown eyes gleam like honey when he looks at her.

“Well, drinks are a pretty important part.  This wouldn’t be fun without ‘em,” He says, and she shrugs in non-committed agreement.  “But it is fun.  I’m having fun, at least”

“It’s not…” She starts to tell him this wasn’t her ideal night out.  In actuality, she was more of a stay in and relax on the weekend kind of person.  Satoru did enough partying in his younger years to turn her off from it early on.  But Ino perks up as he awaits her response, and it didn’t feel right to tell him the full truth.  So she changes direction and tells him a half-lie.  “It’s not terrible” She finishes.

He’s grinning again, as though she’d just told him she was having the time of her life, and she can’t help the confused knot in her brow.  Could he really be so pleased over simply having a few drinks together? 

“I knew you’d have a good time if you just came!” He cheered, reaching his glass across the table to tap it against hers.  “You should’ve just accepted the invitation months ago” 

She takes a long drink, stalling to try and find the right thing to say.  She doesn’t want Ino to get the wrong idea, she’s not about to make this a regular thing.  No, this was a one time occurrence.  She stood by what she said all those months ago.  It was silly to make friends in this line of work.  She’d witnessed first hand, one too many times, just what companionship could cost.  One night out couldn’t possibly change that.

Something twists in her chest before she can remind him of that, and it prevents her from saying anything of the sort.  Instead, she changes the subject.

“Can I ask you a truth or drink question, now?” She leans forward in her seat a bit, resting her elbow on the table once more as she studies his eager expression.

“Shoot!” He agreed excitedly, and she can’t help the short laugh that escapes her.  She blames the alcohol.

“How do you stay so positive all the time?” She asks the question that had been nagging at her for longer than just the past couple hours.  He shakes his head slightly, not quite following the meaning of her question.  “Even on assignments, and doing your reports, you’re always…” She wiggles her fingers in front of her as she tries to find the right word to explain it.

Ino chuckles, before full on laughter takes over and his shoulders are shaking as he grins from ear to ear, almost proving her point before he could actually answer.

“I love what I do?” He answers like it’s a question, like he’s unsure if that’s what she’s even looking for.  “I’ve been working towards one goal my entire life, I might as well enjoy it, right?” 

She’s stunned silent for a minute.  There was a time where she would’ve said the same thing, when she was young and naive and thought her and her brother would take the jujutsu world by storm, side by side.  Before she realized that her entire life would be spent under the shadow cast by him owning the family name almost all for himself.  It was a large, infinite shadow.  And the longer she’d lived in it, the more her joy for her work turned into a necessity.  Until now, she hadn’t even realized just how much she’d come to despise every step it took to move forward in jujutsu society.

Ino took her silence to mean she was thinking too deeply about what he’d said, and a question of his own came to mind.

“Do you not enjoy it?” 

Her gaze rises from where she’d zoned out looking at her dwindling drink, finding Ino across from her looking almost concerned.  The longer she didn’t respond, the more his expression reminded her of the night he’d found her injured.

She clears her throat before opting out of answering, instead drinking down the last of the contents in her glass.  He raises a brow at her choice.

“Did you not want to tell me your answer, or did you not know the answer?” He asks.

“Is that another question?” She asks, a small smirk forming on her lips.  “Because I’ll have to order another drink” 

Ino laughs, and despite her trying not to, she can’t help but laugh with him.

“Another round?” He asks, and she thinks about it for a minute, before nodding, and getting up from her seat.  To her surprise, he follows her up to the bar, even though there was still a good quarter of his drink left.  She doesn’t comment on it.

They have to squeeze between bodies to stake a place at the bar, the two bartenders already quite busy with the amount of people waving at them for their attention.  It’s bound to take more than a couple minutes before they would get to place their order.

“Guess everyone had a rough week” (y/n) mumbles absentmindedly, and Ino glances down at her.

This wasn’t the first time he’d taken notice of her height- or lack thereof- but with having her so close she was nearly pressed into his side, it was hard not to notice.  About a head shorter than him, he had to tilt his head down to properly look at her, which he was only doing now because the alcohol buzzing in his system lifted the barriers of his anxiety.  Had he been sober, he’d have been far too weak to stare at her so blatantly.

Luckily due to the drinks they’d both had, (y/n) didn’t realize he was staring at her for a whole minute or so.  She’d been too focused on trying to catch eyes with one of the bartender’s to feel his eyes on her.  Even without being caught, he felt a flush creeping up his neck.

In another life, or hell, another universe, Ino wonders if things could have been different between them.  If she would’ve been less closed off, or maybe he could’ve been more laid back and met her level of reserved.  He wonders if they would’ve been closer friends, or maybe even something more than that.

Truthfully, when they’d first met, he’d instantly had a bit of a crush on her.  He’d never met the younger Gojo before the day he started working with Nanami on his promotion, but as soon as he’d laid eyes on her, he thought his heart was going to go into cardiac arrest and he’d die right there.  She was quiet, but he could tell behind her calculating expression that she was thoughtful, and cunning.  And so, so beautiful, that he’d stuttered all the way through introducing himself, even his own name he’d struggled to get out.  Looking back on it, he still felt embarrassed, but he was sure she’d long forgotten the interaction.  It wasn’t long after their meeting that she’d made her disinterest in him explicitly clear, and the sparks of feelings she’d ignited in him were stomped out into ash.

He felt like a fool for feeling that spark ignite again just standing beside her in this congested bar, but he couldn’t be imagining that things were different tonight, right? He was sure that she was opening up more of herself than he’d ever seen before, and maybe the alcohol played a part in that, but either way, he couldn’t get enough of it.  She was giving him crumbs of her life- an impulsive tattoo, her hopes to have a pet some day, a few reckless acts on assignments- and he was eating it all up with gratitude.  He couldn’t help but want to learn more, wanting to press further until she couldn’t possibly deny that she enjoyed confiding in him as much as he enjoyed being in her company.

He knows he can’t be imagining things, because when she finally feels his stare and looks up at him, she doesn’t scowl, or spit out some cruel comment about it.  Her brows twitch slightly, drawing together in a confused expression when he doesn’t immediately look away like she would’ve expected.  He’s close enough that he can see the way a ghost of a smile hovers at the corners of her lips, and the way her cheeks warm up with color.  It makes that microscopic spark of old feeling in his chest burn a little brighter.

A nervous laugh falls from her lips, and it’s so uncharacteristically cute that he’s smiling now, and he feels like an absolute dope for staring at her and smiling like an idiot, but it can’t be helped.  He can’t be helped.

“What?” She asks, breathless and curious, her eyes shifting between his as though trying to find the source of this behavior, but instead she only finds warm pools of brown that almost resemble the rum and cokes she’s been enjoying all night.

And then all at once it’s almost too much.  She’s suddenly aware of how close she is to him, their arms brushing together, or if he tilted his head just a little further down he could easily push his nose against hers and-

Her eyes widen at the derailing of her train of thought, the soft expression of surprise on her face more recognizable than she would’ve liked, and she could tell that it doesn’t go unnoticed by Ino, as he’s now regarding her with intrigue, wondering what was going through her mind.

The idea of him knowing she’d nearly gotten lost in thought at the idea of kissing him made her chest ache, and she badly wanted to tear her gaze away from his, lean over the bar and demand to be serviced so they could get away from the crowded space as quickly as possible.

What an idiotic, drunken thought to have.  Kissing a colleague, how much more foolish could she possibly be? She tries to shake it off as a pesky intrusive thought.  Nothing more than the alcohol pressuring her into making a reckless decision.

But she’s frozen before him, her eyes locked on his like she was stuck in a trance, trapped by her own nerves.  The eye contact was going to kill her, especially with how soft his gaze was.  It wasn’t like anything she was used to.  It wasn’t setting her on fire from it’s heat.  The way he looked at her made her feel like she’d just cozied up in front of a fireplace after a cold day.  It almost scared her how warm it made her chest feel.

She’s opening her mouth before she even settled on what she needed to say.

“Takuma, we should probably get go-” 

She’s interrupted before she could finish telling him they needed to leave.  It almost saves her, seeing as she didn’t have a very decent excuse as to why they needed to end the night early, but there’s little time for relief when the unwelcome hand of a stranger settles on her waist, stealing her attention away from Ino’s.

“You waitin’ for a drink, sweetheart?” 

She vaguely registers that the stranger with the breath that reeked of booze was speaking to her, before she’s reacting on instinct.

The grabby hand on her hip is pried off with ease, her strength easily overpowering his in less than a second.  No amount of alcohol would be enough to hinder her reflexes.  The stranger cries out in shock and pain as she twists his arm back behind him, likely spraining his shoulder with how fast she pushes it into an uncomfortable position.  The sly expression on the man’s face is contorted into one of great pain, and only when he begins to cry out for her to stop does she stop pushing.  Her desire to feel the bone snap under her strength starts to melt away when she sees tears in his eyes.

“You’re lucky I didn’t break your hands so you’d learn to keep your mitts to yourself” She mutters, releasing him with a slight shove.  The drunken stranger stumbles backwards, still sniffling and gawking in shock from the whole ordeal.

The woman he’d tried to pick up is still scowling, and she looks like she’s still undecided in letting him go, the way her lip curls into a snarl and her eyes seem to pierce right through his soul.  The man beside her looks no different, rage evident in the way his brows furrow and his jaw is clenched, teeth grinding together roughly.  He has one hand on the edge of the bar, as close to where she stands as he could get without pushing himself against her completely.  His knuckles are paling by the second, gripping so hard one could almost assume he was about to rip a chunk of oak clean out of the counter.  His other hand is on his head, roughly grabbing at the edge of his hat.  

Even the non-sorcerer that was this stranger got a bad feeling emanating from the two, and he scurried off without another word.  (y/n’s) eyes rolled dramatically at the pathetic display, but as she turned back to Ino, she could almost laugh at the sight of him ready to pull his mask over his face.

“Are you alright?” He asks, and there’s not a crack in his expression as he glances over her with concern pouring out of every pore.  

He loses his grip on the bar, hand hovering over her shoulder but not quite touching her, not knowing if physical contact would be a comfort right now.  It’s odd, feeling like for once she was the Gojo with the shield of Infinity.

“I’m fine,” She tells him, and she means it, but she can tell he’s not so convinced.  “But just out of curiosity, what was your plan here?” She asks, cracking a smile as she flicks the edge of his mask, still bunched up at the top of his head.

“I- I don’t know,” Ino answers sheepishly.  “If he didn’t leave you alone I guess I was just gonna wing it” He admits.

She regards him for a moment, letting the answer sink in.  Her smile widens a bit when she laughs softly, almost fondly, as she really thinks about it.  She softens again, just like she had moments ago, before the creep ruined it.

“Well, for what it’s-” 

“Hey, you two need to leave,” 

The pair or sorcerers do a double take when one of the bartenders finally gives them their attention, but not for the reason they’d wanted.

“What?” (y/n) asks, certain they had the wrong patrons.

“We weren’t doing anything?” Ino’s brows furrow as the bartender looks them both up and down.

“I don’t care for the details.  We can’t have a commotion like that in the bar.  If you’re going to cause trouble, do it somewhere else” 

“But the guy was the one who-!” 

Before Ino could finish his explanation, the bartender was shoving a finger towards the door, an expectant look on their face that told them not to argue any further, unless they wanted to cause more trouble.

“Whatever,” (y/n) huffs.  “This bar’s a dump anyways” 

And before the bartender could react, she was grabbing Ino by the arm and pulling him away from the bar.  She was on a mission for the door, eager to leave a place if she wasn’t wanted.  All Ino could do was silently follow along, his mind barely processing the whole ordeal until they were outside, where it was significantly quieter.

It was darker than he’d expected, although he was well aware of the time, it was a shock to be out on the dark sidewalk with the stars on full display above them.  He glances up at the sky to admire them for a moment, until realization strikes him and he’s whirling around to look at her again.

“What about our tab?” 

(y/n) blinks back at him, her expression unwavering.

“Guess we won’t be welcomed back, either” She says, and Ino stares at her in shock as he processes the statement.

“Well then we better get moving” 

(y/n) hadn’t intended to end up at another bar.  In fact, before the handsy stranger made things weird, she’d been looking for an excuse to end the night early.  However, her words betrayed her when Takuma suggested another little dive not far down the street, and that’s where she found herself now.

This place wasn’t as crowded as the last, so she felt comfortable walking in and claiming a small corner booth.  By the time someone came by for their order, she’d already stretched out across the length of the leather cushion, back pressed to the window comfortably.  Ino had chuckled at how cozy she’d made herself, but didn’t comment on it.

Once their first round- at this establishment- of drinks came around, he’d excitedly started up their previous game again.

“Would you have really broken that guy’s hands?” He asks, and (y/n) doesn’t even lift her drink to pretend she wouldn’t answer.

“Without a doubt,” She hums, spinning the ice in her glass with her straw.  “Sometimes lessons have to be learned the hard way, right?” She asks him with a mischievous grin that tells him she might’ve done worse had the moment felt right.  “My turn?” She asks, and he nods, crossing his arms over the table as he gave her his undivided attention.  “Which little beast of yours would you have summoned?” 

“Kaichi” 

He answers with so much bluntness she raises her brows at him, surprised by his complete lack of thought before speaking.  She hums, nodding her head in quiet agreement that impaling the stranger with one of those horns would have been the best method of defense.

“Has that… happened before?” 

“The random guy hitting on me part? Or the part where I threatened a man’s hands?” She asks, and Ino doesn’t seem to have the proper clarification for her question, so she shrugs, and doesn’t drink to the question.

“No, that’s never happened before” 

She takes a few sips after she’s answered, hoping to keep up the buzz she had going.  Ino’s fingers tap rhythmically against the table as he processes her answer.  He seems unaffected at first, but slowly, confusion begins to seep into his features.

“Wait, so you’re saying no one’s ever hit on you, either?” 

“You already asked that one”

“Well then I’m asking again” 

(y/n) begins to pull her glass towards her, ready to take another drink, but maybe the alcohol gets on top of her a bit as she answers the question before she could evade it.

“No, I’ve never been hit on.  I don’t think, anyways.  But I think I’d probably know if I was” 

It comes out like word vomit, babbled out like her thoughts were on a direct pipeline to being voiced.  She doesn’t mean to share so much, but she finishes with a shrug of her shoulders, and raises her glass to sip some more.

“You really never go out, huh?” He asks, taking a drink as well.

“What, getting hit on is the true price you pay for going out?” She asks with a short laugh, not following the connection between the two.  Ino nods his head from side to side, indecisive in his response.

“Not always, just, y’know, figured it’d happen a lot if you didn’t stay in all the time”

By the time he realizes the implications of that statement, it’s already too late.  Ino nearly chokes on his drink when (y/n) tilts her head at him, realization slowly flickering over her features.

“You’re saying people would hit on me a lot if I went out more?” She asks skeptically.

He considers pulling his mask over his face in order to conceal the growing heat in his cheeks.  Not that it would help, the damage had already been done with his loud mouth.

“I didn’t mean it like that-” 

“Well how did you mean it then?” She asks, suddenly swiveling her legs to sit upright against the table, plopping her chin in her hands to study him properly.  

She always had a way of looking at him with calculation in her eyes, as if she was sizing him up like a curse.  Right now, he doesn’t know what to make of the way she stares at him.  There’s that familiar look in her eyes that makes him wonder just what it is she’s looking for, but the softness in her smile was unfamiliar territory, and Ino didn’t have the slightest clue of what to make of it. Was it amusement? Did she take sick joy in watching him fluster and stutter? Or could it be the alcohol to blame? Perhaps it was loosening her up, and any semblance of delight was merely the booze entertaining her.  The most outlandish reason would have been fondness, but there simply wasn’t a chance in the freezing depths of hell that she was actually growing fond of his company, was there?

“I just meant, y’know,” He gestures his hand towards her, pathetically trying to explain his thought process.  She shakes her head in a small motion, not understanding his poor attempt at reason in the slightest.  “Like, you… you’re… you know”

Ino would really rather be anywhere else right now, preferably somewhere that wasn’t so hot his collar was sticking to his neck and his throat was closing up, but then (y/n) begins to laugh, and he huffs out a sigh in aggravation, and ultimately decides to take a long drink.

“Fair enough,” She muses at his choice.  “It’s not a terrible assumption to make, I suppose.  My brother is acquainted with every eligible man and woman in the city, after all” She says, only half joking.  Ino seems to find a great deal of amusement in that, grinning and laughing, although he can’t say he’s that surprised.

“For the record, I wasn’t comparing you to him in that assumption,” He says.  “I just figured you’d… attract your own attention” He says.

There’s an undeniable flutter in her chest, and she wished she could say she hated the way it spread a tingle of warmth throughout her entire body.  It wasn’t like she’d never received that sort of attention from others, but it had been so long since she entertained the idea that it was starting to feel a little foreign.  And having Ino of all people assume that there were a line of suitors out the door waiting for her hand had her insides turning with the near unfamiliar sensation of butterflies.

Her silence is making him anxious, his fingers tapping against the table no longer playing a steady beat.  They mimicked the rapid increase in his heartbeat.  Wild and unsteady and with no sign of relaxing.

“That so?” When she finally does speak it’s soft, nearly a whisper, as if she didn’t quite believe him.  “Are you an expert in that field, then?” 

She catches the way his eyes land on his drink, which was now empty, so there wasn’t exactly an out for the question.  When his gaze shifts back up to hers, he finds she hasn’t looked away from him yet.

“What field?” He plays dumb, and her smile curls into a slight smirk.

“Flirting, courting, whatever you want to call it” (y/n) answers with ease, fiddling with the straw in her drink as she impatiently waits for his answer.  He eyes his empty glass once more.

“No, I’m no expert,” He huffs, a deep frown on his face for having to admit something so embarrassing.  “You timed that on purpose” 

“I did not!” She argues, but her nervous laughter gives her away.  She’s not as good at lying when she’s drunk apparently, and he might just have to store that information for later.

“My drink was empty! That was a trap!” 

She has to cover her mouth to try and suppress the giggles coming out of her uncontrollably.  He’s still embarrassed, but her laughter was contagious.  Anyone passing by or glancing over at the loud laughter pouring out of their booth would assume they were having nothing but a good time.  And for a few seconds at a time, Ino could pretend they were, too.

To keep things fair, (y/n) finishes the last few sips of her drink, before sliding both glasses to the end of the table.

“Alright, your turn then,” She says, a small hiccup punctuating the offer.  “You must have something good saved up your sleeve?” 

He thinks about it for a moment, folding his arms over the table and subconsciously leaning over it to get closer to her.  With his eyes wandering the bar as he racks his brain for a good question she couldn’t avoid answering, she was able to properly gaze at him without getting caught.  Just like at the previous bar, she gets a little lost in thought as she maps out every feature of his face.  There was nothing forgettable about Takuma Ino, but she found herself trying to commit it all to memory anyways.

That flutter in her chest hadn’t gone away, and the longer it prevailed the more she began to sink into the feeling.  It’s relaxing, the way time slows down, and the buzz sends goosebumps prickling up her arms.  She would have never thought she could find this much comfort in this setting, but to her, this booth was the only thing in her world.

“Would you do this again?” He finally settles on a question, and it’s clear that it’s not what she expected, judging by the way her eyes slightly widen from being caught off guard.

Her mouth opens, but nothing comes out right away.  It’s as though he’d wiped her mind completely blank, not even a weak excuse coming to mind.  The fuzzy feeling in her chest turns to static, sharp and cold before disappearing completely, leaving behind nothing but an emptiness that stings as it lingers.  Her smile slowly falls as reality begins to seep back into their booth, reminding her of why she’d kept him beyond arm’s length all this time.

Deep down, she wonders if she always knew this would happen.  She wondered if self preservation took over as soon as she met him because if it hadn’t, she would’ve let him get too close a long, long time ago.  Guilt claws it’s way up from her gut to her throat, strangling her to keep her from saying the wrong thing first.

Ino’s sure he already has his answer when she doesn’t say anything right away.  It’s written all over her face, the way she winces, and shuffles uncomfortably in her seat.  Disappointment doesn’t begin to cover what he feels as he looks away from her, trying and failing to keep his face neutral.

“Got it” He mutters, catching the eye of a passing server and signaling for the check.  (y/n) frowns.

“Takuma, I…” She starts, but her throat still burns, and she struggles to find the right thing to say that won’t make things worse.  “I tried to tell you that tonight was just-” 

“I know,” He replies.  It makes her blood run cold, the way his voice lacks it’s usual chipper tone.  Now it holds nothing.  He’s so painfully emotionless that she almost wishes he would just get angry with her.  “You made that clear” 

They’re completely silent when a server comes back with the check, the tension turning awkward as soon as another person enters their bubble.  They must pick up on it, because they’re quick to bid them a good night before rushing away.

(y/n) drops the money on the table, and Ino’s out of his seat and headed for the door before she could even stand.  She huffs as she follows after him, although he stops just outside the door.  His heart was too good to leave her completely stranded, even though he wasn’t sure he could take another minute of being around her.

“Takuma, look, it’s not like it’s personal-” 

He scoffs, his hands in his pockets as he looks down at her.  She’s shocked to see the glare on his features, and if he wasn’t so irritated, he might’ve noticed the hurt on her face from the sharp look.

“If you tell me one more time just how not personal it is, I think I’m going to scream, (y/n),” He snaps, and in all the times she’s had this conversation with him and butted heads, she’s never heard him talk like that.  All she can do is stand there pathetically and accept it.  “Because it’s bullshit.  You know it, I know it, shit, Nanami knows it” 

“It’s not,” She mumbles, shaking her head.  “It’s not bullshit, I just-” 

“You don’t care about anything but becoming Grade One, I know,” He finishes the statement for it.  “You don’t care about drinks, and you don’t care about me.  Trust me, I remember,” 

A pout settles on her lips, and for the first time in a long time, she wants to cry.

“You know I actually-” Ino pauses to let out a humorless laugh, eyes fleeting across the busy streets as he finds twisted amusement in the way he’d fallen for this whole charade.  “I actually thought you were having a good time, I actually, stupidly believed that maybe you-” He stops again, not wanting to sound more idiotic than he already did.  

After tonight, as soon as they part ways, things would go back to the way they were, and she’d probably pretend nothing ever happened.  He’s not sure he was going to be able to survive that, even after all of this time accepting that she had no interest in him.  Ino doesn’t think he could go back to the way things were.

But fuck it, if this was going to be the last time she talked to him, he wasn’t going to lay back and take it.  He was going to put all the cards on the table.

“You know I care about you, don’t you? You have to know that.  Even if you can’t be friends or partners you- you have to know that.  You’re not dumb, (y/n), so don’t act like it,” 

She has to curl her hands into fists at her sides to keep control of the tears in her eyes.  She couldn’t dare let them spill over.

“But you’re so so stubborn, I’ve never met anyone like you,” He huffs, and the smile on his face is conflicting with the way he spits the words out like poison.  “You’re nothing like Satoru.  I’ve never thought so.  All these walls you put up to keep people from getting close to you so you don’t happen to stumble on the same path he did- because that’s what it’s all about, isn’t it? You’d rather shelter yourself from everything than risk getting a little hurt?” 

Her bottom lip wobbles with emotion, and she turns away so she doesn't have to look at him.  She wished some mysterious force would suck her away from this moment and land her in the safety of her bed where she never had to face the consequences of her actions.  It was childish, but she couldn’t bear to argue with him right now.

“You’re drunk” She mumbles to the sidewalk.

“You���re drunk,” He repeats incredulously, his hands flying outward.  “You think I don’t know you because you won’t, just once, let someone get close to you,” He rants, “But you know what the worst part is, (y/n)? You’re only going to get hurt anyways.  And you have,” He gestures to her shoulder, making her defensively hold a hand over where the scars are hidden beneath her clothes.  Her brows furrow as she opens her mouth to argue, but he beats her to it.  “And then- while I was worried about you, because damn it there was so much blood, I thought you might die, you took it out on me! You got mad at me and pushed me away, again.  Do you have any idea how that makes me feel?” 

It’s only when his rant starts to die down that he realizes she’s barely looking at him because her eyes are glossy, and he knows damn well that she’s fighting every urge to cry.  He doesn’t know if she’s emotionally on edge because of him, or the alcohol making her sensitive, but either way, he sighs in defeat, and his shoulders slump from the weight of all of the thoughts he’d been carrying for the last few months.

“I- I know that you care,” She says weakly, her voice more strained than she would have liked.  “I just don’t get it, okay? It doesn’t make sense.  You don’t make sense.  I don’t- I- I can’t-” Her stutters come out in a whimper and she’s looking away again, desperately trying to compose herself before she could do something embarrassing.  

There were still people out and about even this late into the night, more than enough people to overhear their argument in the middle of the sidewalk.  Normally, she’d call her brother’s driver and leave without putting up with this argument.  But she can’t bring herself to do such a thing right now.  Not with the way he’s looking at her like she just destroyed the moon and all of it’s stars.

“My whole life has been wasted trying to prove something that I- that just isn’t possible,” 

The admission comes out in a shaky whisper.  She’s never voiced it before, but now is as good a time as any of he’s really so desperate to understand why she was wired this way.

“I don’t even understand why I was born, Takuma.  My parents had no interest in me.  They already had Satoru.  For as long as I could remember, I was only around to follow behind my big brother while the entire world bent over backwards to give him everything.  Attention, money, fame, candy apples- that’s what’s bullshit,” It comes out bitter and nasty, her nose wrinkling as she thinks back to every event she was forced to dress up and go to, only to be ignored, cast aside, and forgotten about completely while Satoru skipped around and received everything he could ever want.  “And I just can’t- can’t understand what anyone could ever want from me, I have nothing,” 

She hadn’t noticed the tears leaking from her eyes until there’s a pair of warm hands cupping her face, thumbs gently pushing them away.  She doesn’t want to look at him, not with all of the shame she felt just being comforted by him, but a stronger part of her can’t help but stare at him.  She hadn’t expected such sudden gentleness from him, and she hadn’t realized just how long it had been since someone had last comforted her.  When was the last time someone wiped her tears? Or touched her so softly that even in the frigid evening brought warmth to her skin? 

“Explain it to me,” She pleas quietly.  “Why- why would you possibly want to be around me?” 

Her eyes shift between his, but he’s too focused on clearing away each tear rolling down her cheeks.  She sniffles, and her hands reach up to grab his wrists.  Ino thinks she might yank him away, but she doesn’t.  She simply stands there with a solid grip on him.

“You are drunk,” He says quietly, just a hint of amusement in his eyes as he finally meets her sorrowful gaze.  “Don’t cry, (y/n), I didn’t mean to make you cry,” 

But it’s too late, she can’t stop the tears from streaming down her face now.

“I told you, I care about you, we’re partners, yeah?” He offers, but her expression is unrelenting.  “Have you considered maybe I don’t want you to get hurt, either?” 

Tears stick to her lashes when she blinks, and she has to bite down on her cheek to keep her lips from trembling.  He’s so close that he’d be sure to notice, but he also notices the clench in her jaw.

Every instinct she’d trained herself on is telling her to push him away.  Even if it meant physically shoving him off of her.  He’s too close in every sense of the word, breaching every wall she’d built brick by brick.

But something else nags at her, something far more sinister and cruel.  It pushes her forward, and has her clenching her hands around his wrists tighter as she stands before him in all of her pathetic glory.  Tears still pouring down her cheeks and her lower lip still wobbling, she swallows her pride.

“I’m sorry,” 

It’s quiet, but not because it’s ingenuine.  In fact it’s the opposite.  With a raw throat came a strained voice, so full of emotion she couldn’t possibly raise her voice any louder than the murmur that came out.

Ino blinks, his eyes widening in the slightest as he stares back at her in shock.  The entire night had been full of surprises, but now it had certainly taken a turn and set him on a path where he could see no clear ending.

“Takuma, I’m- I’m so sorry,” She continues, eyes glossing over again.  “I shouldn’t have pushed you away, I shouldn’t have said all those terrible things to you I- I didn’t mean any of it,” 

She’s shaking her head so rapidly it makes her a bit dizzy with the alcohol still in her system, but she doesn’t care if she sways a little.  She only wants to convey to him just how serious she was, and how important it was to her that he understood that.

“I think… I think you’re one of the greatest people I’ve ever met,” She continues, and slowly, the tears come to a stop.  “I’ve never known anyone as… as caring as you,” 

Her voice softens, a nervous shyness creeping in for admitting something so vulnerable.  But she wasn’t sure if she’d ever work up the courage to say something like this to him again, so it was now or never.

“And I know you’d never hurt me, b-because I’m… I’m the one who was hurting you,” He opens his mouth, likely to argue with that statement, but she was quick to keep going before he got the chance to interrupt.  “But I don’t think you understand that… that losing you would mean hurting me, too” She finishes, brows pinched together as they both sit for a moment to process it all.

Ino sighs, his thumbs wiping away the last of her tears, yet he keeps his hands cupped around her face.  A part of him was paranoid that if he let her go now, she might slip away once and for all.  The other, louder part knew that with the grip she had on his arms, neither one of them were going anywhere.

And so he tells her just that.

“I’m not going anywhere,” He assures her, a confident smile stretching across his face.  “You’re not losin’ me.  Promise” 

She snorts at that, the tiniest of laughs escaping her in a mere breath.

“You can’t promise something like that,” She scolds.  “In this line of-” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Ino shakes his head dismissively.  “Too late.  Already promised.  So it’s set in stone,” 

She stares up at him with wide eyes, so lost in trying to understand him in his entirety that she doesn’t even know what to say next.  Had he forgiven her so easily? How could he say such a thing with as much assurance as he did? 

“As long as you can promise to drop the tough guy act and just… be the tough guy you already are,” He says, only half kidding, “Then I can promise that I’m not leaving you” He offers, tilting his head to the side as he gazes down at her fondly, admiring the way the corners of her lips begin to twitch into a smile.

“Okay,” She whispers, so quiet he only knew she said it from the way her lips moved around the word.  “I promise” ___

From that day forward, (y/n) worked more and more to loosen up around him.  It wasn’t easy at first, and the first day was the hardest.  The Monday back at work was a bit awkward, after she’d spent an entire weekend nursing a hangover, with an overbearing brother pestering her for the details.  Ino had brought her and Nanami coffee that first morning, and she’d made an effort to eat her lunch with him every day that week.

Then the week after that she began to accompany him on his coffee runs as well, spending the extra time chatting mindlessly and getting to know one another better.

A few weeks after that the two of them went out for drinks one evening, until that too became a part of the routine.  Once a month or so they’d go out to any new bar Ino could find and waste away as much of an evening as they could.

Slowly but surely, partnership grew into genuine friendship- something (y/n) hadn’t felt for a long, long time.  And Ino made sure to never let her forget it.  Whether it was remembering her favorite drink order, or watching an entire series she’d said she liked one time, he took her companionship seriously.  The more she got to know him, the harder he made it not to fall for him.

But, god, was falling for him one of the easiest things that’s ever come to her in this life.  It was unavoidable, unstoppable, uncontrollable.  No matter how much she tried to fight it, the way her heart raced whenever he was around was distinct to feelings only he could spark.  And the way her eyes searched for him first in a crowd was more than enough proof that her fondness for him had grown well past platonic.

It might have been silly to be surprised by her feelings when she’d finally realized that’s what the swell in her chest was all about.  After the incident that was their drunken night out where she’d torn herself apart at the seams before him- they don’t talk about that night, and she can’t help but wonder if he’s doing it out of favor for her, or if he’s just as embarrassed about it as she was- she found herself getting lost when thinking about him more often.

It ranged anywhere from how his eyes were their prettiest when they would leave Jujutsu Tech in the early evening.  With the sun low in the sky, rays of light caught them just right and made them appear to be the most brilliant, shining amber she’s ever seen.  

Satoru loved to brag about his baby blues to anyone who would listen, throwing his shades off with dramatic flare as he’d bat his eyelashes at unsuspecting victims.  Ever so full of himself, he loved the attention he’d get for the outrageously bright blue hue of his eyes.  When directed at her, (y/n) tended to scoff and tell him that his Six Eyes was far more worthy of bragging about than the damn color of them.

More recently, she’d shrugged her shoulders before directing her attention elsewhere.  “I prefer brown eyes” She’d told him carelessly.  At the time he’d pouted over it, whining about how his little sister thought he was ugly.  But ever since seeing her grow closer to her partner, he had a sneaking suspicion he knew who’s brown eyes she was talking about.

As much as she indulges herself in these thoughts- wondering how soft his lips were, remembering how gentle his hands had been when he’d touched her- she knows she can’t act on them.  Not after everything she’d already put him through getting their working relationship this far.  If she were to admit to him now that she was catching romantic feelings for him, it would be humiliating.  And she was humiliated enough as it is.  So she swore to herself they would remain hidden deep, deep down, under a lock and key- with said metaphorical key being thrown into a fire and melted down into a clump of misshapen chunk metal.   Then she threw that metaphorical chunk of metal into a metaphorical ocean. ___

xoxo ~ jordie

[wildemaven]

don’t drink the punch | dave york

-> pairing: dave york x f!reader

-> word count: 3382

-> content warning: 18+ blog; insecurities, jealousy, holiday party antics, mentions of food and alcohol, office gossip, smut (unprotected p in v, fingering, orgasms), there’s no mention of it but reader is on BC, Dave is divorced from Carol, Soft and Sweet Dave, let’s say this is AU and no murdering is happening (or that at least reader is not aware of), reader is mentioned to be wearing a dress with heels and lingerie, otherwise zero descriptive features for reader, I think that’s everything but let me know if I missed anything

-> notes: more soft Dave because he’s been rotting my brain and making me weak lately. This could be the same universe as Caught Kissing Santa, but also can be read as a stand alone piece too.

-> masterlist / holi-dave masterlist

“I would enjoy these holiday parties a little more if the drinks being served had some actual bite to them. Then I wouldn’t have to give another forced Thank You to my Secret Santa for another gift I’m just going to re-gift to an unsuspecting family member. Did I mention how much I hate these parties?” Cathy shares among the small group of you and a few others, tucked in the corner of this year's CIA Holiday Party. 

You laugh into your fluted glass of sparkling apple juice. Mainly because she’s right. These parties tend to be a little boring, as do most office holiday parties. Lacking any sort of decorum that would indicate there’s an actual party taking place. The lobby has far more holiday cheer than this conference room at the moment. 

Red streamers taped to the wall above the food table and green plastic table runners haphazardly draped over random surfaces help add some festive color to the drab atmosphere. But the tiny plastic tree with misshapen branches bent in different directions placed in the middle of the long table in the center of the room, really ties everything together. Due to budget cuts, there wasn’t much of an allowance for new decorations, according to Cathy. Thankfully, you had convinced Dave to keep leftovers decorations from last year’s party in the supply closet

Once gifts were exchanged, the party felt like it was dragging on longer than it should. Your feeting aching in the too high heels you always decide on, snacking on nearly stale bread and cold artichoke dip, most of the other items already picked over. You patiently wait for the moment everyone else decides it’s time to call it a night and meet up at a local bar to continue the celebration, all while you make your way home to enjoy the rest of the evening with order in pizza and comfy clothes. 

The majority of the party you spend talking with a few friends to pass the time. Catching up on random office gossip, the latest romance rumors that have all departments engrossed in every detail and any other dramatic news that you haven’t heard about. All topics are enough to keep you entertained for the time being. 

“Maybe if York wasn’t so tightly wound and put some actual effort into these things, they would be easier to enjoy.” Sheryl adds to the conversation. “Between us, I might have brought a small flask of vodka to add to the fruit punch— should make things a little more interesting.”

“I’m sure his hands are tied, so you can’t really fault him for not allowing the hard stuff. Plus, are you even allowed to drink on site?” You decide to give your opinion. While you do see where they’re coming from, you can’t really hold it against Dave for not wanting to deal with everyone liquored up. And you’re more than certain there’s a zero tolerance policy for alcohol anywhere in the building, clearly Dave is just following the rules. You’re more than fine enjoying several glasses of the fizzy juice, noting to steer clear of the punch bowl. 

“By the way— did you see the new tie York got? I’m shocked she made him put it on as soon as he opened it— a little awkward to do in front of everyone. I will say, it looks good though, doesn’t it?” Cathy points to where Dave and one of his much younger Agents are still talking on the other side of the room. 

You watch as he holds up the ends of the tie, as if they’re both discussing the color and material of it. He must have said something funny, because she’s laughing now. You no one notices the way you subtly roll your eyes when her hand reaches out to him, holding the side of his forearm as she talks. She must be telling him how hard it was to shop for him, but she just knew he’d love the tie. And how she spent hours searching for the right color— it's black.

She’s cute, whatever her name is. One of the newer recruits you haven’t had a chance to meet yet. She looks to be in her mid to late twenties. A young, confident woman whom you’re definitely not jealous of with all the attention Dave is giving her right now. She’s a good 10 years younger than you if you had to guess. She’s attractive too. Dave seems somewhat oblivious to her slightly flirtatious behavior. Being the nice guy that he is and giving her his undivided attention— makes sense. 

“Don’t you think it looks good?” You realize you’re being asked a question about said tie he’s wearing. 

“Yeah. It looks really good on him.” That’s a lie. It does look good, but you kind of hate that she gave it to him, given how flirty she's being towards him. It’s not anything you would have ever picked for a Secret Santa gift, especially for Dave. The premise of the gift exchange was supposed to be fun, silly gifts. She should have opted for a coffee mug that says, Tears of my Employees, but that’s just your opinion. “Such a great color, too.” That part is the truth, it is a great color on him. 

“Speaking of looking good— that dress on you is killer!” Sheryl shifts the compliments in your direction, catching you off guard and has you feeling slightly embarrassed at the attention. 

“Oh! This? It’s just something I picked up earlier this week. I feel a little overdressed though.” You say all demure like, looking down at the way the black material drapes over your body. The dress feels a bit much compared to everyone else’s business suit attire. The high cut of the slit and the low straight neckline with straps holding it onto your body have you sticking out more than you would like. 

“I’m sure Dave has told you plenty how beautiful you look in it.” Sheryl says confidently. 

“Umm—  no he hasn’t mentioned it. I haven’t had the chance to talk to him much today, actually.” You say meekly, looking back over in the direction of where Dave is. 

When you go to sneak a glance at him, he’s already looking at you, not caring what the cute younger Agent is saying in that moment. His attention fully focused on you. He gives you a wink, raising his half-empty glass— cheers to you from across the room. You mirror the gesture back to him, pairing it with a genuine smile now painted on your face. He turns his attention back to the younger cute Agent, both of them now joined by a pair of Agents from analytics. 

“Well, the night is still young. I’m sure he’ll be giving you all the praise soon enough.” Cathy says, pouring some red punch into her glass.

“Sure.” You smile politely at Cathy and Sheryl. “Umm, if you’ll both excuse me. I need to go use the ladies room.” Deciding you need a minute to yourself. Ditching your glass at the end of the long conference table, you make your way out of the room down the hall. Seeking out a few minutes of quiet to let your mind clear before heading back into the lackluster party. You catch Dave’s profile as you walk by the glass wall of the conference room, paying no mind to anyone outside the little holiday bubble he’s in. 

The echoing of your heels clicking against the tiled floor is the only sound you hear as the bathroom door shuts behind you. You debate whether or not you should give your feet a break from being stuck  in such a high arched position for so long, deciding against it at the thought of walking nearly barefoot in a bathroom. Placing your purse on the porcelain countertop, you take in your reflection in the mirror. Adjusting the straps on your shoulders, then sliding your hands down the front of your body. Admiring and reminding yourself how good you do look in this dress, it’s the main reason you decide to wear it tonight. 

You’re not even sure why you were doubting yourself to begin with. You groan out loud into the unoccupied space for how you were comparing yourself to another woman— a woman you don’t even know. She doesn’t deserve that. Sometimes your insecurities creep in, clouding your mind with lies and false narratives you’ve conjured up. You brush it off. Grabbing your purse, you apologize mentally to yourself as you make your way back out into the hallway. As well as to the young woman who had also been on the receiving end of your near downward spiral. You’ll introduce yourself properly when you get back to the room. 

Someone must have found a speaker. A vibrant Christmas song, you can just barely make out, is coming from the conference room. Most likely another one of Sheryl’s attempts to liven up the crowd. You’d given anything to see the look on Dave’s face right now— he has the worst poker face when he’s annoyed. 

You’re halfway back to the party when you get distracted. An open door to an empty office has you intrigued. The plaque next to the door reads Dave York - Deputy Director NCS. Your fingers tracing over the carved out letters engraved on to the gold metal. 

Laughter pours out of the party filled room at the end of the hall. Your fingers pausing over the last letter of Dave’s name. Glancing back over your shoulder, double checking that you are alone. Shadowy figures are still milling about on the other side of the glass wall. The party far more alive than when you left it. The addition of music was just what it needed. 

You decide you’re in no rush to head back. The open door to Dave’s office practically welcoming you in. 

Wall to wall shelves behind Dave’s desk have some sort of lighting that adds a soft ambient glow to the otherwise dark room. The rest of the walls are adorned with college degrees and various certificates, years and years of hard work and dedication.

You toss your purse to the leather chair that is off to the side as you make your way to the large desk. It’s made of some dark slab of wood, the sleek angles and metal hardware gives it an elaborate modern look. The desk is cool to the touch, your fingertips following the grain of the wood, as you take in the details of Dave’s space. 

There’s a gold frame that catches your eye, twinkling under the dim lighting. You grab it from where it sits next to another photo of Dave’s daughters, Molly and Alice. 

You’re instantly drawn to Dave in the photo. The sheer happiness that’s evident in the smile he’s wearing. A smile that he doesn’t wear often at work or for many outside of it. His dark locks brushed off of his face, in a dressed up polished manner. Face cleanly shaven, allowing his dimple to be on full display. There’s also a brightness in his eyes. You admire the way the photographer was able to capture such a beautiful candid moment. 

“That’s my favorite picture” You turn to see Dave standing in the doorway of his office. Suit jacket discarded somewhere. His hands in his pants pockets. Head tilted ever so slightly as he slowly scans up your body until his eyes meet yours. 

“Hmm… You have to say that, it’s your wedding photo.” You say as a matter of fact. Turning back to his desk, you glance at the framed photo one last time. You finger brushing over the portion of the picture where his handsome face is. 

You’re too focused on the happy couple staring back at you, missing the barely audible sound of his shoes drifting over the carpeted floor as he slides up behind you. You nearly gasp at the sensation of his body pressed up against you, butterflies erupting in your stomach. His touch is captivating, evoking a sense of want, desire blooming immediately. 

Your body doesn’t shy away from the way his hands settle on your hips. Welcoming the way his lips move over your skin, a gentle trail of kisses that lead upwards from the round of shoulder to the small space below your ear. Your stomach tightens. Goosebumps erupting all over. 

“It’s our wedding photo.” A gentle squeeze of your hips as his lips ghost over the shell of your ear. He plucks the frame from your grip, setting it back in its designated spot on his desk. 

“Are you trying to seduce me in your place of work, Mr. York?” A playful smile forms on your lips as you turn to face him, rucking the skirt of your dress over your hips as you sit on the edge of the desk, the silky material pooling around your waist. 

The insecurities you had been feeling earlier in the night, long gone, forgotten under his intense gaze. Your hands lay flat over his documents and files as you lean back into a more seductive position, careful to not disturb their tidiness. 

“Fuck, Baby. Looks like you’re the one doing the seducing, Mrs. York?” The new black lace panties and garter set you picked up this week on display for him. His hands glide over the black stockings that stop mid-thigh, his fingers slipping under the garter strap, continuing their upward movement, as he steps into the space between your legs. 

“Is it working?” You purr, knowing full well it is based on the grip he has on the apex of your thighs. A small yelp escapes your throat as he slides your lower half closer to the edge so your flush against him— not missing how hard he is under his black slacks. You carefully allow yourself to lay back fully over the desktop. 

Your hands catch the end of his new tie. Pulling at it tautly, bringing him down so he’s maneuvering his body over yours. One hand resting next to your head as the other guides one of your legs over his hip, encouraging you to wrap them around him. 

“I just got all of these papers in order. Hours of reading and organizing. They’re going to be a mess now.” Dave’s voice is honeyed, holding zero malice in his words. 

“I’m sure you can have one of your cute little Agents clean them up for you.” You tease, which only encourages his own seductive movements. Your eyes flutter shut at the way he ruts himself hard against your aching mound. Open mouth kisses delivered across your cleavage.

“Are you jealous, Mrs. York?” You can feel the way his lips perk into a smile on the top of your breast when he asks. 

“I-I was. She’s very pretty. But I know who you’re going home with at the end of the night.” Your fingers card through his soft locks at the base of his neck, your head tilted back as he soft nips at your jaw. 

“If it makes you feel any better, I think Julie finds you more attractive than she does me. She asked several times who the breathtaking woman in the black dress was.” That was a twist you hadn’t expected. 

“Oh! Did you let her down easily?” Dave’s wandering lips are halted by your question. He pulls back, eyes filled with reverence as he looks down at you. The air between you is charged with an unwavering love for each other. His hand gently cups the side of your face, thumb slowly tracing over your bottom lip. 

“I told her how you’re one of the best things that’s ever happened to me. How you make my life better. And that I don’t know what I did to deserve such a beautiful woman like you.” He’s the sweetest man you’ve ever met, a wonderful father to his two girls and an incredible husband—  falling in love with him was one of the easiest things you’ve ever done. 

“Dave—“ Tears prick at your eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. Now, let me take you home so I can unwrap you properly.” He tries to lift himself off of you, but you have other plans— more exciting plans. 

Grabbing his face and pulling him back to you, your lips connect with his. Tongues melting into a fiery kiss. No further words needed, as your body does a fine job of conveying exactly what you need from him and you’re grateful he catches on quickly.

His hand slips under the lace material of your panties. Seeking out your pleasure as he alternates between soft deliberate circles over your throbbing clit and working you up with two fingers inside your warm cunt, hitting that delicious spot over and over again, causing you to bite back an explicit moan as you silently tip over the edge. 

Rushed movements blur into the next. Working together to free his hard cock from his boxers and pants. Forgoing the effort it takes to remove your elaborate straps and lace, pulling your underwear to the side is all that’s required before Dave is slowly sinking into you. 

Shared breaths and discreet whimpers fill Dave’s office. Nails biting into exposed skin with each heady thrust Dave delivers. Papers shuffling beneath you as your body tenses, arching into his. Dave senses you’re close, your vise-like grip has him nearing his own release. 

“Dave! —fuckfuckfuck—  Baby, I- I’m going to come!” You're breathless, trying your best to keep your voice low, not wanting to be heard by anyone. 

“I’m right there —shit!— with you, Sweetheart.” 

Your lips connect with Dave’s again as your orgasm surges through you, swallowing each other's moans and triggering Dave to spill inside of you. 

The room is nearly quiet again as Dave’s forehead rests on your chest. His skin is warm against yours.  Your lungs work effectively to help regulate your breathing to a normal state. 

A kiss placed over your heart, then to your lips before he’s slipping out of you. Dave adjusts your underwear back in place as you still lay boneless on his desk, body a tingling mess is bliss. 

“That was a first for us. Surprised it hasn’t happened sooner.” He smiles down at you as he tucks himself back into his boxers, tucking his dress shirt and refastening his slacks. 

“Hmmm— I’m not opposed to it happening more often— make sure to pencil me in.” You hum softly at him. You reach out for his hand to help you off the desk. His hands instantly catching you and your grip onto his shoulders, your legs a little wobbly when your heels hit the ground. 

Your dress adjusted, Dave’s tie situated, compliments exchanged —You look gorgeous in this dress, This tie was a nice choice, she did a great job picking it out— sweat patted down with a tissue— a valiant attempt to look less conspicuous as you both head back to the party hand in hand. 

You both decide to stay a longer, indulge in a little more of the festivities, you suggest ordering some pizza for everyone. Dave agrees and mentions also needing to call Carol at some point to tell the girls goodnight.  

“You think they will notice we were missing?” Dave asks, his arm wrapping your waiting and pulling into his side as you both stop at the door to the conference room. The space is still filled with boisterous laughter as music continues to keep the energy flowing. 

“I doubt it. They’re probably too busy discussing how boring your parties are.” You smirk at him. 

“Boring? Who’s saying they’re boring?” His head whips over to you. You can already see him mentally running through names, his signature scowl now visible, looking back at his fellow agents. 

“That’s for me to know and for you to stress about until the next one. I’m going to go introduce myself to Julie. I’ll see you in a bit.” You kiss his cheek and make your way back inside. You take a few steps before stopping and turning back to him, your dress skirt billowing out around your legs. “Dave, don’t drink the punch.”