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A Diviner's Guide to James Potter

Chapter Sixteen: The Chaste Moon

James Potter x Fem!Gryffindor!Reader

Chapter Fifteen - Chapter Seventeen ☆ Series Masterlist

Description: The full moon comes just before Easter, fostering a time of rebirth and renewal…among other things.

Word Count: 6.1k

“This is fantastic!”

Marlene had never seemed so happy in all her life, looking up at the ceiling as if to thank the heavens for the good news.

“It’s not like we’re—” you began, though it was no use.

Marlene grabbed your shoulders, shaking you silly. “What’d he say? Did he have to get down on the ground and kiss your feet? Godric, did he cry? I bet he cried.”

You cringed, glancing back at your dormitory door. “Please keep your voice down. I don’t want Lily to hear—”

“You don’t want her to hear what?” Dorcas asked with a devilish grin, slipping into the room.

You groaned, rubbing a hand down your cheek as Marlene took her hands from your shoulders, going over to Dorcas.

“They made up,” Marlene explained, still grinning.

“Of course they did,” Dorcas said with a wave of her hand. “Nothing could keep Y/N and loverboy apart.”

You felt your cheeks blazing, too frazzled to come up with a decent comeback.

Dorcas threw her bag down onto her bed, laughing at the way your face contorted in embarrassment. “When's the wedding?”

“Oh! I have an idea!” Marlene began, still mad with excitement. You were happy she ignored Dorcas’s comment, lest you have both of them on your tail. “Let's all eat in the kitchens tonight, I’m sure we can convince Isby. Besides, she loves James.” She bolted towards the door, glancing back at you and Dorcas. “I’m gonna go find the guys.”

Before you could protest, she was running down the staircase. You poked your head out after her, though by the time you did, she had already rounded the corner, disappearing out of sight. When you turned back to Dorcas, she was howling with laughter, flopping down onto her bed.

You sneered, crossing your arms in a vain attempt to look tough in the face of her teasing.

“C’mon,” Dorcas sighed, her smirk not having left, “I think it’s sweet, you and James.”

“Well I’m sure Lily wouldn’t appreciate you making up some tall tale about me and her ex boyfriend,” you said, narrowing your eyes.

“Fine, I won’t mention it,” she said, before adding under her breath, “so you won’t have a heart attack.”

A few minutes later, Marlene came barging through the door again, Lily in tow.

“Remus is gonna tell the others for me,” Marlene said happily.

Lily chuckled at her eagerness, offering with a kind smile. “I’m glad to hear you and James made up.”

“Yeah,” you said, your heart beginning to hurt at the sight of her sweet expression, “me too.”

At six o’clock sharp you went down to the common room, finding the other party of four already lounging in the armchairs tucked away in the corner. James looked up with a grin not unlike Marlene’s, though you only offered him a small smile back, your nerves were starting to get the best of you. You remember the look you had briefly caught him giving you in the courtyard, or so you suspected, like he was looking at the greatest thing he’s ever seen.

Unlike James, Sirius was sulking with his shoulders slumped, appearing utterly forlorn.

“What’s wrong?” Dorcas asked him. “Minnie make you polish the mouse cages?”

Sirius glanced up at her, his mouth twitching towards a grimace. James, Remus, and Peter popped up from their chairs, though Sirius made no move to leave, continuing to pout. James leaned over him, pulling him up by his arm. Sirius begrudgingly obliged, huffing like a child.

“Is everything all right?” Lily asked, this time with real concern, unlike Dorcas who still appeared amused by his mood.

“Broke up with Seraphina,” James whispered.

Sirius slapped his arm, glaring at him as you all began to walk towards the portrait hole. You tried your best to keep your eyes from James, focusing on anything but.

“That doesn’t seem cause for sulking,” Marlene said, stepping through. “This is what, a monthly occurrence?”

“What do you think I am, some animal?” Sirius scoffed.

“Yeah,” Dorcas laughed, “a pig.”

“You should see his quarter of the room,” Remus muttered, causing Lily to snort, a hand coming to cover her laughter.

“Or a dog,” you said, now with your own smile.

Sirius shook his head at your cheap shot.

“Really, though,” Dorcas began, “I didn’t think you even liked her that much.”

“I didn’t,” Sirius grumbled, for once losing his ordinary swagger.

Marlene side-eyed him curiously, raising her brows. “Who broke up with who?”

Sirius didn’t answer, letting his hair fall into his face as he stomped down the grand staircase.

“No,” Marlene gasped.

Your group passed a gaggle of students, prompting Sirius to shoot daggers at Marlene. She closed her mouth, heeding his warning until you all went down to the basement, safe from prying eyes.

“Are you kidding?” Marlene asked, a hint of mischief making its way into her voice.

“I didn’t say anything,” said Sirius, straightening his posture.

“This must be a first,” Dorcas said. “Have you ever been dumped before?”

Sirius elbowed Peter when he started to snicker, though he was saved from any further retaliation as you all came upon the painting, James tickling the pear. A house elf was not standing guard when it swung open, a first since you began taking your meals there. James stepped away as you peeked inside. There were dozens of house elves running around, setting plates upon the tables that would soon be sent up to the Great Hall, though Isby was nowhere in sight. You glanced back at the others with a shrug, stepping inside.

Just as the painting closed behind you, Isby came skirting around the corner, shouting something illegible in her high pitched voice. She stopped in front of you, her hands on her hips.

“Too many, too many!” she cried. “Isby will only allow Miss McKinnon and Miss Evans to stay. I asks all others to leave at once!”

“What about Remus and I?” James asked, flashing her his most charming smile, saved for only the most dire circumstances. “Head Boy and a Prefect?”

Isby seemed to be thinking it over as Sirius crossed his arms, shaking his head at James.

“You know them, too. I promise they’re all right,” you said, motioning to Dorcas, Peter, and Sirius.

After a moment Isby moved out of the way, allowing you all to come inside. “Miss L/N is the most stubborn student at Hogwarts.”

“Thank you, Isby,” you said, smiling down at her.

The others gave their own thanks, save for Sirius, who was still upset at her total dismissal, despite knowing him for seven years.

You all made up your plates, sitting down at one of the long tables once all the food had been sent away. Lily took her usual place beside you, James on the other, much to your chagrin. The heat of him next to you felt foreign, like an invitation you could never say yes to. You wondered if things would go back to the way they were, exactly the same? You weren’t sure, only wishing that no one would make mention of what had happened, the subject never to be breached again.

“It’ll be okay,” Lily said, watching Sirius poke at his food as if it were mush. “I bet Seraphina will come running back in a few days. A week, at the most.”

“That's what I said,” James said, motioning across the table towards him.

Sirius dropped his fork, letting it clank against his plate. “Enough with the fucking pep talk. I’m fine.”

“He’s fine,” Marlene chuckled under her breath. Peter snickered again, prompting Sirius to send him a sharp look, though it did little in ways of quelling it. Peter continued to smile, meeting your eyes with rounded, rosy cheeks.

“I think this might actually be good for you,” Lily began, though Sirius only turned to her with a flat expression, clearly unwilling to hear her out. “One likes to be crossed in love a little now and then.”

You looked down at your plate, a fit of giggles overtaking you. Everyone was glancing between Lily and you as if you were each involved in some form of shared hysteria, though James seemed bothered most by not being in on whatever was going on.

His eyes searched the side of your face, turning to Lily with the same perplexity. “What?”

“You have to read more muggle novels,” Lily said, pleased by her own roguery.

“I read muggle books,” he argued. “I just read, ugh— Remus, what was that book you gave me?”

“On the Road?”

He looked to Lily triumphantly, his hands waving around as he spoke. “On the Road!”

She raised her brows, forgetting her dinner in favor of testing him. “What happened in it?”

James thought for a moment, his tongue pushed into his cheek. “Some guy from the states gets divorced and drives around a bunch. Goes to Mexico, does some drugs— what more do you want from me?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t read it,” Lily said, laughing at James’s sigh of discontent.

He looked to Remus again, who did not appear too keen on his involvement. “Back me up!”

“That's the basics,” Remus began, “but you could've just gotten that from the sleeve.”

“How soon we move on from my heartache,” Sirius said, interrupting James just as he went to counter Remus’s betrayal.

“I thought you were fine,” Dorcas taunted, leaning across the table towards him.

“I am,” Sirius said, “but I find it cruel you all thought I was in the depths of despair and went on discussing literature.”

“That's just because you’re not well read,” you laughed.

To the annoyance of your entire party, Sirius went on to name every book he read in the past year, the majority of which were either textbooks or magic-centered. The only works of muggle literature were in the form of motorbike handbooks and music magazines, and other unsavory works. Just as he went to name them, Lily stopped him, promising that you took back what you had said. By the time the whole debacle had been settled, you all had finished your dinners, your plates levitated away by a house elf.

On your walk back to the common room, James bumped your shoulder, leaning in towards you. He looked as though he had something up his sleeve, and you feared for your own sanity and your future self, soon to be bombarded with a truly tortuous array of words. You stared at him, waiting for him to speak.

“Will you let me teach you how to duel now?”

You rolled your eyes, though after a moment the idea didn’t seem as ridiculous. You had tried the dueling club to no avail, and going directly to Taurisus was not preferable. However, the idea of being alone with James for what could only be described as a training session (the thought itself made you want to grow small), was as horrifying as it was a month ago, and that was when things were simple.

“C’mon,” he begged, “it’s a good idea and you know it.”

“Fine,” you sighed, flying up the steps of the grand staircase.

His eyes brightened, leaning away with a grin. “Lovely.”

“What’s lovely?” Marlene asked, glancing behind her at the two of you.

“I’m going to teach her how to duel,” James said, still looking proud that he had convinced you.

“That's excellent,” Lily said with a smile.

Sirius chuckled, “Merlin knows you need it.”

You stepped onto the seventh floor platform, scoffing at the smirk on Sirius’s face. “I did just fine with Mulciber.”

“Call it luck,” he said, passing ahead of you down the corridor. His walk had returned to its usual saunter, long legs striding without any of his former melancholy. You started to think the only real way to cheer him up was for you to be in misery.

“I’m sure you were stellar,” James began, “but some practice never hurt.”

“You sound like Lily,” Marlene said, though you barely heard her. You saw an out, right there in front of you like a shining beacon of hope.

“Speaking of, are you sure you’ll have enough time between schoolwork and quidditch?” you asked, feigning innocence.

“Of course I do,” he answered.

“I wouldn’t want your performance to slip,” you continued, “especially when it looks like Gryffindor has a good shot at the cup this year.”

James let a short breath out of his nose, shaking his head. “We’ve got it in the bag, right Padfoot?”

“Fuck yeah, we do,” Sirius said, turning to you. “We’ve got a whole new game plan for the Easter holiday.”

“I’m so sorry I’ll be missing it,” Dorcas drawled. “Two weeks of drills and scrimmages.”

“Don’t remind me,” James said, coming up to the portrait. “When you’re the worst one on the team, you’ll be sorry”

Dorcas scoffed, “Impossible.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

On Saturday morning, James hounded you as soon as you stepped foot in the common room, forcing you to come with him to the RoR for your first dueling lesson. You had just eaten breakfast, looking forward to a lazy day of schoolwork and tea, although James would take none of your complaints.

“We have two weeks of no classes, and you want to practice at the crack of dawn?”

“It’s nine, not the crack of dawn,” James said, pulling you out into the corridor, “and don’t you want to get a head start?”

Unlike usual, the RoR was without its piles of old, forgotten knick knacks and furniture, transformed into a wide open space perfect for your purposes. You were still yawning as James stood in front of you, staring at you with a far more serious expression than you would have liked.

“How good are you with Stupefy?”

You crossed your arms, slightly offended by the question. “That's a fourth year spell.”

“Sorry,” he said, pursing his lips in thought. “What about the blasting curse?”

“Well,” you began, trailing off.

“We’ll start with that, then,” he said, turning around to stand near the other side of the room. “I know you learned it, so just show me where you’re at and we can go from there.”

You nodded, taking a deep breath as you prepared to perform the spell. “Confringo!”

A short burst of fire erupted from your wand, though it wasn’t nearly to the degree of what you had been aiming for. James’s shield charm easily blocked your measly flames, dropping his hand once they fizzled out.

“That wasn’t bad,” he said.

You sighed, your shoulder drooping. “You don’t have to lie to me. That was awful.”

“Maybe it’s me,” he said, taking a few steps to the side. “Try it without focusing on a target. Maybe you just don’t want to hurt your best friend.”

You rolled your eyes, taking your position once more. This time, you zeroed in on a spot on the wall, imagining the face of someone ghastly, an unfriendly set of eyes pointed towards you. “Confringo!”

You were more successful this time around, though it was still weaker than it should’ve been.

“I don’t know what I’m doing wrong,” you huffed. “I know what it’s supposed to feel like, but it just never does.”

James came over to you, his expression still sympathetic. “Okay, what do you think it’s supposed to feel like?”

“I don’t know,” you began, “powerful? Like energy coming from my wand.”

“It’s not coming from your wand, it’s coming from you,” James said, his gaze darting around as he pondered his next words. “If the blast isn’t strong enough, it’s not because your wand doesn’t have the power. Your wand is just there to direct it.”

“Great,” you chuckled bitterly. “So I’m not powerful enough.”

James shook his head immediately, his eyes wide. “No, it’s not that at all. I don’t know how to put it—” he stopped, scratching the side of his head. “You have to have confidence, even if it’s fake. You can’t be scared of your wand, just have to tell it what to do, even if you aren’t sure you got the stuff to do it. It doesn’t know the difference. Does that make sense?”

You tried to picture it in your head, the feeling he was attempting to convey. You remained unsure, nodding anyway.

“All right, let's try it,” you said, realigning your stance.

Again, you zeroed in on the blank wall, trying to forget James standing beside you. You imagined that you had performed the spell perfectly a thousand times before, convincing your wand that it would do what you said, exactly as you told it.

“Confringo!”

Like before, the blast was present, though still not strong enough. Just as you were about to pout, James urged you to try it again.

“Remember what I said, don’t be scared. Tell your wand what to do and it’ll do it.”

You glanced down at your wand as if to force it to obey you through a harsh look, wondering if such a thing was even possible. When you turned back to James, he nodded, looking at you as if he was totally, completely sure you would get it this time.

“Confringo!”

The heat from the fire warmed your face as the flames soared, dancing through the air. They whipped around one of the pillars, the light of it so bright you needed to squint just to keep your eyes in front of you. You couldn’t explain the feeling even if you tried, though it was not entirely unlike casting other spells. However, there was something more behind it this time, the magic flowing from your veins, through your hand and into your wand where it seemed to double, triple in magnitude. The blast kept raging on, not subsiding until you lowered your wand, the embers floating up into the air before they flickered out.

James watched as the orange glow dissipated, his smile slowly growing before it turned into a large, proud grin. “That was brilliant!”

“That felt great,” you said, a laugh of disbelief bubbling from your chest.

James’s eyes were bright with joy as he ran to the other side of the room, raising his wand. “Try it again.”

You performed the curse a dozen times, each as well as the last. James blocked every one of them with the same overzealous grin, making comments here and there about your form. You each lost track of time, spending hours in the RoR, ultimately forgetting your original purpose as you threw low level jinx’s at each other. The clock tower was just striking eleven as you zigzagged around the room, repeatedly blocking James as he tried to perform the tickling charm.

“Don’t!” you cried, out of breath as you spun around to block another. “You’re such a git!”

“This is good practice,” he laughed, stopping to stare at you from across the room.

You narrowed your eyes, your wand at the ready. “I’ll retaliate!”

“I’d like to see you try,” he paused, smiling devilishly. “Relashio!”

You suddenly dropped your wand, letting out a noise of surprise as you bent down to pick it up. You were too late, the words leaving him before you could react.

“Rictusempra!”

You began to laugh wildly, forgetting your wand as you clutched your stomach, phantom fingers tickling your sides. You tried to yell at James, though your sentence came between fits of giggles, uncontrollably pouring from you, “Stop—it—right—now—you—toss—er!”

You fell to the floor, your head thrown back as the tickling did not let up. James mercifully flicked his wand, the charm ceasing. You caught your breath, glaring at him as you sat up. He was still grinning like a fool, his arms crossed as he looked down at you.

“I hate you,” you groaned, standing again. “That was completely unfair.”

“How so?”

“Cat and mouse games are not duels,” you said, straightening out your jumper.

“It’s a cousin,” James said. “And I won.”

You rolled your eyes, though it only made him snicker. “I meant it when I said you were a tosser.”

“You’re full of it,” James said, slipping his wand back into his pocket. “You shouldn’t go around saying shite like that, you might lose your spot as my favorite.”

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach, though you told yourself it could've been the remnants of the charm.

“Whatever,” you said, a smile forcing itself onto your lips. The feeling in your chest lingered, the air suddenly hot and suffocating. You put away your wand, heading towards the door. “I’ve got homework, and so do you.”

“Fine, but we're back here tomorrow afternoon,” he said, giving you a pointed look. “I have practice in the morning, but after lunch I’m all yours.”

If only.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

The second of your dueling practices went slightly better, given that it didn’t devolve into James attempting to jinx you. You went over a few spells you already were comfortable performing, doing mock-duels to get you more comfortable with it. James was encouraging the whole time, whooping and hollering whenever you were able to block something difficult, or when you were able to trip him up a bit. He was still miles better than you, though he did have years of practice under his belt during what he so affectionately dubbed his “wilder days,” which he reminded you of constantly.

“The only reason I’m halfway decent at dueling is because I was a little punk. Don’t feel bad because you were actually a good student.”

He practiced with you a few more times over the first week of the Easter holiday, during which you were able to avoid what had happened the first time, keeping things largely professional. He was also putting the Gryffindor quidditch team through more practices than any other house, trying to use up all the free time slots on the pitch that Monsieur Button would give him. The fact that Dorcas had gone home for the holiday did little to tamper his mood, convincing himself that there was no doubt Gryffindor would win the cup.

By the end of the week, things were entirely back to normal, at least the normal you had grown accustomed to. Being alone with him felt less and less nerve wracking as the days went on, your anxiety subsiding into its usual hyper vigilance, though nothing more. Still, your mind could not let go of the cards, one in particular.

The common room had been decorated with pastel streamers by the house elves, hung around the room above the portraits. The entire space was filled with laughter on the Friday before Easter, the radio playing in the corner as drinks flowed aplenty. James, Sirius, Peter, and Remus were nowhere to be found, though you knew full well where they were. Remus was being escorted by Madam Pomfrey to the shack on the outskirts of Hogsmeade, the others waiting for her to leave before they went down the same tunnel to stay with him throughout the night.

Lily had found out about Remus’s condition when she and James began to date. Eventually, you, Marlene and Dorcas were made privy as the months went on, much to the dismay of Remus, who had hoped to keep his secret from as many people as possible. He was only met with kindness and the promise that none of you would ever mention it, though that did little to stop you all from worrying.

Since you were made aware, full moons were a haunting affair, causing a permanent knot to form in your stomach until the following morning. You were trying your best to ignore it as you played a game of wizard’s chess with Lily in your room, though between your poor skill and your distracted mind, she was beating you by a mile.

“Your move,” she said, still looking down at the board. Barely any of your pieces remained, though you were still holding onto your king and queen.

You made your move, though you knew your efforts were futile. When Lily took her next turn, she destroyed your knight.

“Check.”

“I give up,” you said, knocking over your own king, which popped right back up on its own. “You’re bound to beat me sooner or later.”

“How unsportsmanlike,” Marlene said, her leg bouncing where it hung over the side of her bed.

You didn’t respond, waiting as Lily checked her watch.

'What's the time?” you asked.

“Just after midnight,” Lily sighed, “still a ways to go.”

“I can’t take it anymore,” you said, standing from your chair. “I’m going to bed.”

You got ready in silence, cocooning yourself in your four-poster, a charm cast to block out their voices. You tried not to picture the scene as you fell asleep: a stag, a dog, and a rat, scurrying around a raging wolf, howling at the moon.

“Y/N,” Lily whispered, shaking your shoulder.

Your eyes flew open, the light in your dormitory dim. Outside, the sky was red along the horizon, fading into pink clouds. You sat up, throwing off your covers and swinging your legs out. “What time is it?”

“Six,” she answered, stepping away so you could pull on a jumper and a pair of shoes. You also grabbed your wristwatch, which she had been miraculously able to repair.

You both went down to the common room, waiting for James, Sirius, and Peter to return. Lily had begun to wait for them to get back when she and James started dating, taking you along for moral support once you were aware of his secret. After they broke up, neither of you thought to stop doing it.

Lily’s knee was bouncing as she stared into the fireplace, now just burning through embers. Your cheek was resting in your hand, forcing your eyes to remain open against their will to close.

Twenty minutes later, the three boys came through the portrait hole, haggard from the long night. All and all they seemed okay, though the bottom of their trousers were caked in mud, their shoes scuffed. Without a word, Sirius threw himself down into an armchair, the cloak over his arm.

“How’d it go?” you asked softly.

“Pretty good,” James said, his voice dull. He ran a hand through his hair, which was sticking up in odd places

“Is he doing alright?” Lily asked.

“Yeah,” Peter said. “Not too bad this time.”

James threw a long into the fire, standing in front of it with his back to you. You studied his shoulders, which somehow seemed to be dragging him down, a weight too heavy for him to bear. You wanted to walk over and wrap your arms around him like you had last week, too hold him and tell him it would be okay, just like every other time.

“That’s good,” you said, though it came out weak and unconvincing. Nothing was ever good the day after a full moon, though you tried to make the best of it.

“You guys can go back to bed,” James said, glancing over his shoulder. His eyes met yours, drained of their usual light.

Lily nodded, looking to you with pressed lips. James never liked it when you lingered, though you always wished he’d let you, just once.

“Go get some breakfast,” she said, each of you heading back towards the staircase. “I’m sure Isby will let you in, but if not, use the cloak.”

“Okay, mum,” Sirius mumbled, a half hearted effort at brightening the mood.

You shook your head, taking another look at James’s back before you went up to the dormitories, a deep, aching longing pulling in your chest.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

You spent most of Saturday doing schoolwork, the guys holed up in the hospital wing for hours at a time before Pomfrey would kick them out, only to have them return forty-five minutes later. Remus always hated it when you made a fuss over him, so Lily only sent him down some notes for Ancient Runes. She knew he didn’t need them, but it was the only way to tell him that she was thinking of him without making him feel even more guilty than he already did. You could offer nothing, only your hope that he would feel better for tomorrow.

At some point that evening, Remus was able to hobble his way up to his dormitory, which he much preferred to the old beds in the hospital wing. When you came back up from the kitchens with Lily, you caught Sirius bringing a plate up for him, piled with more food than he could ever eat. They all stayed with him that night, likely trying to distract him the best they could. By now, they were as good at it as they ever would be.

You all sat in the common room after breakfast on Easter morning, save for Remus, who was in the midst of a much needed nap.

A handful of students on the other side of the room gathered around as Maxwell Thomas began to levitate a first year in a wooden chair. You glanced back to watch as the first year held tightly to his seat, staring down at the floor with a grin as he was lifted a few feet, growing higher and higher as the others below laughed. Soon, he was nearing the ceiling, his head bonking it before Maxwell lowered him again.

“Man,” Sirius whined, looking up from his magazine, “Springsteen’s putting out an album in June.”

“How will you ever survive for a month?” Marlene teased, laughing more when Sirius’s brows pinched in a deep, rather dramatic display of sadness. Peter chuckled as well, sinking further into his chair.

“Don’t start, McKinnon,” Sirius said, pointing the magazine towards her, “Springsteen is—”

James slapped him on the shoulder, his eyes narrowed towards the stairs to the boy’s dormitory. Sirius turned to look, his expression darkening. You craned your head back, your heart dropping into the pit of your stomach when you saw Zephyr hopping down the steps, making his way through the common room towards the portrait hole. His eyes darted across the room, soon finding your group before they shot away again.

“What’s he doing here?” Marlene whispered, her voice rushed.

James flew up from the sofa, followed quickly by Sirius, letting his magazine drop to the floor. Broken from your frozen state of shock, you pulled at Sirius’s arm, though he tugged it back, blazing with anger.

“James,” Lily warned, sitting on the edge of the cushion.

You watched in horror as they neared Zephyr, tensed and prepared for a fight. You whispered James’s name in an attempt to draw him back, though he did not acknowledge you. You tried the same with Sirius, though it had the same nonexistent effect.

“Oi!” James called, walking faster towards Zephyr, who was just about to open the portrait. “Where’re you going?”

Zephyr turned, his mouth tight as he stared back at James.

“Nothing to say?” Sirius asked, his voice seething. He pulled out his wand, pointing it towards him.

Zephyr’s lip curled as he glanced behind them towards you.

“Don’t look at her,” James gritted as he whipped out his wand, his knuckles growing white as he held it.

Zephyr stiffened, looking down at James’s wand with a careful consideration. He took a breath, tightening his jaw. “I’m not looking for a fight,” he mumbled.

“Well, you’ve found one,” James said. He raised his arm like a bolt of lightning, so fast you barely had enough time to jump off the sofa and shout his name.

It was too late. Zephyr flew back, falling to the floor with a groan. He went to reach for his own wand, though James stood over him, peering down at his startled face.

“What are you doing back here, you fucking traitor?” Sirius spat, coming to stand beside James.

Zephyr’s expression shifted into something disgusted, as if the stench of them was putrid. He began to prop himself up, not taking his gaze from Sirius. “You’re one to talk.”

Every student in the common room looked on in complete confusion, murmuring to themselves as they watched the scene unfold. Peter was standing, though he made no move to go over, his hand buried in his pocket.

Zephyr’s eyes landed on you from his spot on the ground, looking at you with the same expression of contempt.

“What did I say?” James barked, flicking his wand again.

Zephyr’s face erupted in ghastly, red boils, rapidly growing in number so quickly that soon you were unable to recognize his features. His hands came up to his cheeks in horror, attempting to cover the blemishes as they began to ooze. Again, he went to reach for his wand, though James’s foot came to his shoulder, knocking him down before he turned around to look at you, still frozen in place.

“Bloody hell,” Marlene murmured, though you hardly heard it.

With another glance at Zephyr, James took his foot from his shoulder, marching back towards you, Sirius following behind. Immediately, Zephyr took out his wand, performing the counter spell.

Without a word, James grabbed your arm, pulling you up from the sofa. “C’mon,” he said, rushing you over to the portrait hole.

Zephyr was standing, his wand in his hand as you passed him, the others following. James pushed you behind him, his cheeks blushed with rage.

“Don't touch her, or I’ll give you worse than boils,” he began, pushing open the portrait. “Same goes for your mates.”

He let go of your arm, lacing your hands together as he took you out into the corridor, Peter slamming the portrait shut.

“Gentle!” the Fat Lady said, though no one paid attention.

Hand in hand, James tugged you down the corridor, to where you did not know. You were too stunned to speak, hearing Marlene’s frazzled voice as if you were underwater.

“Where are we going?” Lily asked as James led you down a set of stairs.

“McGonagall,” he answered, short and clipped.

You hadn’t the mind to protest, and even if you did, you weren’t sure you would.

“This isn’t the way to her office,” Peter said sheepishly.

“She won’t be there now,” James said. “I’m going to her quarters.”

Presumably, McGonagall’s quarters were located on the third floor of Gryffindor Tower, down a narrow, dead-end corridor. There was nothing to indicate this was where the door led, though it did not stop James from pounding on it, making you wince where you stood behind Marlene. He stepped back, waiting for her to answer.

The door swung open after a moment, revealing none other than McGonagall on the other side. Her eyes were narrowed as they darted across your faces, clearly peeved and rather surprised at your intrusion.

“There better be a dragon loose in the castle,” she said, her voice shrill.

“Zephyr’s in the Common Room,” James said, doing nothing to conceal his anger.

McGonagall let out a small humph, her posture straightening. “He’s been taken care of,” she began. “It’ll do you all well to leave it be.”

“That's bull,” Sirius scoffed.

“Leave it be,” James repeated, appalled by the suggestion. “Does this mean that Mulciber and Wilkes and—”

“I’ll remind, Mister Potter, that as Head Boy you are held to a higher standard than the rest of the student body, and that your increased responsibilities may be taken away at any given time.”

James’s jaw tightened, though he did not argue.

“It is unlikely any one of them will formulate a similar plan while in this castle,” McGonagall continued, moving to shut the door. “I will take no further inquiries—”

James quickly stepped forward, putting his hand on the door to stop it from closing. “I want to speak with Dumbledore.”

McGonagall’s eyes widened briefly, her face growing stony. “Do not push your luck any more than you already have.”

“I want to speak with him, too,” Marlene said.

“As would I,” Lily added, taking a sharp breath as if shocked by her own outburst.

Sirius raised his chin. “Same here.”

“You will do no such thing,” McGonagall said, resolute in her decision. “Now, my advice to you all would be to leave your classmates well enough alone. If I find that any of you have engaged in activities against school policy, the consequence will be as dire as it is swift.”

“Like the consequence you gave Zephyr?” Sirius said, staring at McGonagall with little fear.

She did not respond, closing the door with a single, solitary glance in your direction, partially obscured beneath her hat.

Chapter Seventeen

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Taglist: @floverisland @ilovejamespottersomuch @googie-jeon @tvnile

#james potter x reader #james potter/reader #james potter x you #james potter x fem!reader #james potter fanfiction #marauders era #james potter #james potter angst #james potter fluff #harry potter fanfiction #james potter series #marauders fandom #hp marauders

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ybklix · 8 months ago

Text

𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐧

★ pairing: ceo!leeminho x fem!reader part four

part one / part two / part three

✦summary: Minho gives you a place in an agency you've always dreamed of, which will boost your professional and artistic career, but he can't bear to be away from you when your schedule changes drastically, which drives him crazy as he sees you provoking him with your slightly obnoxious partner from your new internship, and your persistent best friend.

✭ content - tags - warnings: smut / fluff / established relationship / fingering / oral sex / creampie / choking

word count: 14.4k

a/n: idk why so many w.c. i’m sorry, i literally had a writer’s block lol and procrastinated all week

It was not part of your plans to have a boyfriend, or to fall in love, much less with a mature man in his thirties. Reality hit you when you were having a nice date night on the beach, when Minho had to leave for an important call. You looked around, you hadn't realized the drastic change in your life, when if just two weeks ago you were crying in your room full of shame for even considering asking your parents for money and… suddenly you had it all. You bit your lower lip and looked at Minho from a distance, age was the least important thing about him, he was wonderful, he gave you fantastic sex and spoiled you every five minutes; in the moments so quiet for both of you when he is on his phone he suddenly speaks and tells you he saw a very nice dress and bought it for you, just like that, he would blurt it out as something so normal and never failed to surprise you when a small gift from him to you, turns out to be something incredibly expensive.

You examined him, his broad back and the attractive way he was running his hand behind his head, you thought it was a serious call because of his tense position, still you kept thinking how cute he looked.

Minho came over and sat back down, whispering a small “I'm sorry.” You asked him if everything was okay to which he nodded with a tender little smile. After minutes he stopped eating and gave you a long look.

“You have to enjoy your last few days working with me, I'm going to miss you being around” he said, his comment puzzled you too much that he could read it on your face immediately to which he continued, “Because starting Monday you'll be training at that acting agency.”

You opened your eyes a little stupefied, Minho had told you that he would support you in your professional career and that he would do everything possible to see you succeed to which you silenced him by whispering a yes and kissing him slowly, since you had thanked him and started to say that it wasn't necessary to which he immediately interrupted you arguing that he would do it anyways, but he hadn't given you in detail his plan.

“What, you hadn't told me…?”

“Really?” he spoke in a high pitched tone paying it no mind as he looked at the food, “I thought I told you that night.”

You shook your head softly. The news shocked you, yet you relaxed your expression, remembering that in such a short time Minho had given you so much and yes… in a way your relationship was a sugar daddy dynamic, but he made it clear to you that you should never feel ashamed to receive money from him because his intentions were merely focused on you and things that were going to benefit you, he didn't expect to receive anything bigger in return than a simple thank you or a kiss every time he came with something new for you, but it's clear that… you love intimacy with him so much that thanking him in that way wasn't bad for both of you.

“It's at the agency of…” you spoke more animatedly, lost in his bright eyes unable to finish the sentence, but he nodded softly.

“You know it is, the best in the country where all those successful and talented actors come out of nowhere” he replied.

You denied gently not being able to understand him, “But it's very hard to get in and…” you wanted to keep talking, but you realized that arguing wouldn't do any good, it was already done for Minho, “Thank you” you told him with a tender smile, he saw you the same way.

“It's nothing” he added proudly.

“Now I feel bad because I didn't know what to get you so I just brought you a cake” you said softly as you waved your hand animatedly towards the waitress who was sitting retired from you in case you were offered something else, you gestured to her indicating to bring the cake and candles for Minho.

He laughed softly and his eyes lit up as he saw the cake in front of him.

“You shouldn't have…”

“It's not a birthday without cake and candles,” you interrupted him.

His smile widened and he leaned in a little to tell you, “Come here, I want you to blow out the candles with me” you saw him pat his thigh.

You blushed a little and agreed to sit on his lap, turning your back to him, you were both on the terrace of his beach house, with a view of the sea so the wind moved your hair slightly, causing Minho to gently push it aside so as not to obstruct his view.

“I'll stay here but you have to be the one to blow out the candles” you added, as you lit the candles, hoping the wind wouldn't blow them out.

Minho gently caressed your back uncovered by your blouse and then let his hands fall on your bare thighs, thinking that he needed no other wish but to be with you, somewhat corny for him, but he couldn't ask for anything better than to hold you in his arms and kiss your lips… he thought humorously that maybe deep down, he wished he was less jealous when it comes to you, his hairs bristling and his blood feeling heavy every time he thought of you and the idea of another man around. Minho was engrossed in how tender you looked with your eyes shining at the sight of the cake and keeping the unquenched candles intact, which he awkwardly let out a light puff blowing them out and not taking his eyes off you. You felt his triggered gaze on you and found him with a relaxed and tender expression, it was hard for you to accept that a few weeks ago you were a stranger and he looked at you in a particular way with contempt and now it was the opposite, when you were not lost in desire and lust, he looked at you so softly and delicately.

You averted your gaze nervously and turned your body again, for a second, terrified of liking him more if that was even possible.

“Mmm, I also brought you something else, it's very small it's just that I seriously didn't know what to give you” you commented to him in a sharp tone.

And it wasn't a lie, you had no idea what to give to a man who had everything materially speaking and if he didn't have it he could buy it for him without a problem… besides you weren't the type of girl to write a letter and to say cheesy things to his face when you had no idea what to buy him… besides you tried to be realistic, the man was turning thirty, not eighteen.

“I told you it was okay by me this way without giving me something…”

You ignored Minho's words, leaning into your bag abruptly, brushing a little against his still-quiet bulge, still making him moan softly. And you took from there a small, elongated box, biting your lip unsure that it was such an insignificant object and didn't compare to the millions of won he spent daily on you with clothes or something else expensive. You settled your body on his lap, laying it sideways in front of him, your back now turned to the beautiful beach scenery. You handed it with uncertainty to Minho, who took it with joy, not caring what it was about, it was a small detail coming from you and that was enough for him, since Minho recognized that he was totally the provider of the relationship and he could not agree more with that; it was enough for him to see you happy, without worries, arranged for him wearing diamonds and luxurious clothes, raising glances and sighs from other rich women of his social circle who did not know of your existence.

Minho wrapped his arms around your body and opened it in front of you and, before he could even analyze what was inside, you hurried to say:

“It's small and silly I know, but you can use it… when you're in important meetings, plus it has your initials on it, it's totally yours.”

Minho let out a small chuckle at your reaction and was quick to see that it was a sleek black and gold pen with his initials LMH engraved small on the top of the object. Minho smiled broadly.

“This is what I'll sign our wedding papers with?” he commented amused looking at you.

You blinked in confusion at his sudden comment, “What?” you said.

Minho let out a small laugh again now slightly nervous and averted his gaze to the small gift, closing the box and leaving it on the table to place his hands on your thighs.

“Thank you” he murmured sweetly, moving closer to your lips to trap them in a tender kiss that made your ears burn.

“I should have given you something else…” you stammered disappointedly pouting slightly.

“You can always give me something else…” he whispered slowly squeezing your thighs and bringing his right hand up to your panties.

He had been specific with you, not wearing anything under your skirt other than your underwear, he picked you out the cute outfit that matched his own, acting like a complete sweetheart. You pressed your lips together tightly feeling your body temperature rise knowing that Minho wanted to touch you.

“You haven't shown me how grateful you are to get into the agency, wasn't it your dream?” he spoke again seductively close to your ear.

You nodded and closed your legs a little in reflex as you felt his fingertips brush your folds and squeeze your clitoris, Minho's hand was lost between your legs, covering only a small part of it by your tiny skirt.

“Show me how grateful you are to me…”

Minho continued to tease you, touching you through the thin fabric of your underwear, this time making you moan as your pussy was beginning to throb and grow wet at his fine touch.

“Minho, no please… she’s watching us” you tried to say as calmly as possible, a little scared as you realized you had the waitress in front of you a few meters away.

Minho let out a haughty laugh and looked vaguely in the direction of his employee.

“I don't think she's watching us.”

“Yes, Minho, s-stop” you spoke haltingly as you felt his delicious circular motions on your sensitive spot.

“Look me in the eyes and tell me to stop and I'll stop” he demanded authoritatively.

But you couldn't do that, his gentle rubbing became a little rougher moving and stimulating your labia as you felt his huge erection grow and touch your ass.

“Well to me you seem to be enjoying it” he said again even more smugly, “Then turn around princess, so you can turn your back on her if you care so much” he whispered.

You did it instantly, you were so excited and embarrassed that you couldn't see the poor waitress, so you just decided to fall into Minho's lap turning your back to the girl, looking out to sea. Now your concern would be anyone who decided to walk on the beach at night, but it was almost impossible, the nights were somewhat cold and strangely the place was perfectly empty. Minho was surprised by your sudden movement, pulling his hands away in confusion and let out a slight moan as he felt you sit on his erect cock drowning in his pants, instantly heeding him so he could continue playing with your pussy.

“Look at you, paying attention to me so I can touch your needy pussy” he growled haughtily.

You were so turned on by his touch and cocky tone, you couldn't even respond to him, other than just rolling your eyes annoyed that he was right and that you needed him now. You spread your legs a little wider giving him better access to your wet entrance to which Minho bit his lip, and stimulated your center through the fabric of your panties, Minho's breathing became ragged, he was becoming insane from not having your pussy in his mouth, he touched every inch of your folds, stretching your panties to feel the pressure on your wet pussy, making you moan, he enjoyed every moment of his fingers sliding on your labia and your sobs full of pleasure, finally he stuck two of his fingers smoothly into your tight hole making you whimper. Fuck, you needed him so badly, you were so aroused that staying still on his lap was not enough, you would want to take his fingers yourself, as you sensed the slow play in which Minho was touching you. Minho couldn't stand the thought of his cock suffocating in his pants but it made him hornier to watch your body squirm trying to regain your posture, he continued to finger you, paying attention to your clitoris with his thumb, completely prioritizing your pleasure as he energetically watched with his eyebrows slightly raised every little contraction stimulating his cock.

“Kiss me” he requested needily as he saw your parted lips emitting sounds of pleasure.

You joined your lips, in a dirty kiss feeling the inside of each other's mouths, making you more aroused, Minho licked your lips as he parted from you and looked at you completely blinded in lust, finally intensifying his skillful movements with his hand, making you startle and whimper more, fucking you deeply with his fingers so well that you ended up cumming in them. Minho grinned mischievously and abruptly pulled his digits out of you, taking them into your mouth covered in your fluid.

“Sweet cake frosting” he whispered, making you laugh as you took his hand with both of yours and sucked his fingers hard erotically looking into his eyes, making his cock throb harder as his imagination flew.

“Fuck, princess, let's go inside now” he gasped.

[...]

You skipped that day of school, however upon returning to the city your head could only think of your best friend that you hadn't had genuine contact with in long days, you were a bit sad that you decided you needed advice from another friend who may have gone through the same thing, falling in love with a rich older man after a chance encounter.

That day you returned to the city during the morning and Minho went straight to his office to work, barely paying attention to you; everyone at work speculated that you had something going on with Minho, you being always the last one to leave —since you waited for Minho and uselessly hoped no one would see you enter his office so often— and you always coincidentally came in together, but you didn't care, you were going to stop coming in on Monday and you had concluded your work by seeing Minho's work schedule and confirming that he was very busy… so you were bored in your chair, your very senior colleagues clearly judged you and did not approach to talk to you so much, so, not knowing what to do, you decided to try to talk to Felix in order to rescue your friendship a little bit; at the same time you texted Hari so you could see each other to talk as soon as possible.

Felix didn't respond to you all day, hurting you a bit as it was obvious he was ignoring you since he kept updating his social media. And Hari seemed to like talking on the phone today, to which you told her you wanted to see her in person so she agreed to do so the next day.

That afternoon when everyone left, you headed to Minho's office, ready to go in, but you stopped your hand on the doorknob when you heard him yelling in what you assumed was a phone call, you didn't want to interrupt and stood unsure at the door whether to go in or not…. to which you were determined to do so once you stopped hearing his voice indicating that he had hung up the call, but Minho stepped forward opening the door with force and coming out of his office with his suit jacket in his hand and advanced quickly in search of you, to which you hurried to follow him, catching his attention by the noise of your heels, smiling and relaxing his countenance at the mere sight of you.

“There you are” he said happily.

You took his hands and noticed his tired and tense face even though he was smiling.

“Shall we go?” you whispered to him tilting your head to which he nodded.

Once inside the car in the back of it, Minho squeezed your hand and turned to look at you to say as he let out a sigh, “Don't you want to stay at my place?”

“Only because you look tired and stressed, you need to rest” you replied raising the corners of your lips in a small smile.

“If you'll stay because I'm tired, then I'm tired every day, will you come take care of me?”

Your smile got bigger and you moved closer to him to caress his chest, his cute big round eyes suddenly looked droopy so you couldn't stand to see him like that.

“You really look stressed” you reiterated now worried.

“Yeah, I'm sorry it's just…” he grimaced, “it's the last few months and I'm working hard to close the year well with the company and start a new one…” you nodded listening to him carefully and thinking he had nothing to apologize for, “But luckily I have the best stress remover…” he murmured tilting his head and giving you kisses on your neck while his free hand pressed your thigh, “Do you want to fuck tonight?” he asked now in a low voice close to your ear, bristling your skin.

His voice and touch made you weak in seconds but… you thought it would be a very good way to help your boyfriend, but there were little things like that you had thought about all night and… you also wanted a quiet and sweet relationship where it's not necessary to fuck every day, even though you would do it with Minho every day at any time if you wanted to, still, you didn't want to look like or become addicted.

You shook your head softly.

“Let's go get you to sleep” you added firmly, looking him in the eyes and holding back all your dirty thoughts and the huge desire you will always have for Minho.

“Okay” he sighed slightly exasperated, “But let's go to dinner first, are you hungry?” he mentioned in a more relaxed and sharp tone, giving you a quick kiss on the lips.

Minho didn't wait for your answer and let the driver know the change of direction for both of you to go to dinner. You finally had dinner, walked around a bit and arrived at Minho's house, who upon stepping into his foyer, threw his coat and removed his tie in despair, whimpering exhausted and also threw the fabric of it away. You watched the scene, finding it incredibly attractive and were surprised by his grip on your waist.

“You want to shower in the master bathroom and I'll do it in the other one?” Minho spoke.

He had understood perfectly that you didn't want to have sex so he saved himself from seducing you and offering to take a shower together, besides he did feel tired, in any case that you change your mind, for him it would be wonderful if you took control this time and you were the one who fuck him, jumping on his cock.

But you thought for a few seconds, admiring the closeness of his face to yours, you hadn't kissed properly since the morning before you got out of the car and pretended to get to work first, you and then him, at different times. And you spent a while ago having dinner and talking all the time, without him even taking the time to get dangerously and romantically close to your face, Minho wanted to know absolutely everything about his girlfriend, so he had fun asking question after question until he sweetly knew the silliest detail, as was the age when you taught yourself to ride a bike, or more important things, like your career choice, your parents's opinion, your story and more deep conversation.

“Mmm, it's not okay for me, I can use the other bathroom” you replied.

“No, no” he regretted, “Do it in the main one in my room, don't worry, there's everything for you in my closet” he sentenced, giving you a little kiss on your forehead, he pulled away and hurried to shed his clothes in search of a quick relief.

You swayed on your own place, feeling a little strange to see his silhouette disappearing far away to another room you didn't know at all, so far you knew his house very well but you were still missing certain little places. You hurried to take a bath, totally unconcerned that Minho would see you in your pajamas and without makeup, in such a short time you had already built that trust, it was inevitable, you were spending more and more time together but, sadly everything was going to change in a few days since Minho gave you details that it would be after your university schedule and you recognized that there was no specific departure time because sometimes it was normal to stay late to practice…. still as you were new, the best case scenario is that your schedule would end at the same time Minho was supposed to leave his office…. but, on busy days like these for Minho, you could at least see him while you were being driven to the company, while he was walking outside his office or when you had to compulsorily accompany him to his meetings, but for now no more Minho which frustrated you, you just started to be his girlfriend and your time was starting to be delimited, you couldn't help it, you wanted to be cloying and be with him all the time, it felt so good to be by his side.

It made you tender to realize that Minho had taken it very seriously to make you feel at home, he had clothes for you, space in his big closet exclusively for you and little things like shampoo, lotion, brush for your hair, dryer, you couldn't process at what point it occurred to him to compulsively buy everything, just from one day to the next everything was there, like your sudden feelings for each other. You stood watching the outside through his incredibly long bedroom window, giving you the view of the large yard and area surrounded by tall trees, you sighed at the thought that your boyfriend was very different from you but still you were both in that sweet initiation stage where everything seems optimistic.

You felt the sound of the door and turned around the second, finding Minho in his comfy cotton pajamas wearing only his pants, his chest and abdomen bare as he shook his hair with one hand.

“I can finally go to bed” he sighed as he looked at you.

You honestly weren't sleepy yet, but there was nothing better than trying to fall asleep cuddled up to him. You approached Minho, who sat on his bed ready to lay down, but didn't do so until you sat the bed as well, he pulled the big sheets aside to cover himself and you, who happily looked for a place close to his body where you would feel comfortable once you lay down. Minho loudly indicated to turn off the lights to his speaker, surprising you a bit since on tired days when you don't want to get up to turn off the light, something like that was a great help and, as if he had read your mind he said to you:

"Do you feel good in your apartment? Don't you want to move?"

The question caught you by surprise, wishing you could look him straight in the eyes but you were so comfortable curled up on his bare chest feeling his soft breathing and your skin touching with your cheek.

“I'm fine, it's a place I know too well to move” you replied.

Minho started playing with your hair, stroking it.

“Well at least let me do something for you… how about tomorrow we go shopping so you have new clothes to wear to the agency?”

“I'm good” you smiled at him.

You didn't know if truly a way for him to show affection was the gifts or if he just gave them to you because of the way he met you and directly related your relationship based on that. You were still very grateful, but sometimes you felt so guilty even though Minho was absurdly rich, he ran a snack company all over the country and 10 other countries.

"I want you to look radiant and... I hear myself that the other young people there are a bit… you know” you heard him say.

You knew exactly what he meant, they were a bunch of spoiled rich adults who were taught a little discipline going in there, all you knew was that they were sorted by age and being a major company opened up so many casting opportunities for you. You were so nervous that you could only agree with Minho.

"Okay… but you're really busy on Thursday, I think Friday you're more available."

“Now you know my whole schedule?” he added in a sharp, mocking tone.

“Sure I do, I plan it” you replied, letting your hand rest on his chest.

He laughed lightly, letting his body relax completely and closing his eyes slowly, he was so calm with you that, before he fell into a deep sleep quickly, Minho whispered:

“Good night, y/n.”

[…]

The next morning was not the same, you missed a little bit your old routine of arriving with Felix, going to breakfast together and talking about anything around. You felt like you gained something but at the same time you lost something important, you finally felt loved romantically and you could give that love to him too… but you felt it wasn't fair to lose the affection Felix had for you. You knew you made a mistake by telling him you liked him too, you were so frustrated that you thought that's exactly why you never liked getting too involved.

Felix answered your message late, you didn't want to insist anymore so you looked for him where you knew exactly where his class was, an act he would do, go find you. There were still a few minutes to go and there was still no one inside so you waited nervously at the entrance outside the auditorium until you saw his long blond hair pass through the hallway, he saw you and his countenance became more serious, you smiled at him, happy to see him while waving your hand, but your smile faded when you saw his expression. And he walked up to you, looking as handsome and smelling as good as ever.

“Hi” you said shyly trying to catch his eye.

Felix was looking down at the floor and seemed a bit annoyed.

“Hi” he replied curtly.

He finally looked into your eyes, you felt a relief to see them. You hadn't seen his big eyes in days, a new record for you guys, because even when he went on vacation, you did video calls all the time. That's when you realized that… maybe you had screwed up too much, you should never have treated him like a boyfriend, now the poor guy was paying the consequences. It was always all about him and suddenly he felt displaced. After you always told him you weren't ready for a relationship, suddenly you had one with a rich older man, which was hard for him to believe. Felix was really questioning… could a relationship work between a twenty-one year old, still a student, and a man whose life is planned out… he wanted to think that maybe things wouldn't work out so well, and he hated himself to think that he knew he would be there for you anyway if that doesn't manage to work out and disappoints you, he would just be there.

“How are you?” you spoke again not knowing what to say properly.

“Fine” he said again curtly.

You couldn't hold it in any longer and in a short sigh blurted out, “Felix, can we talk?”

Now you would be the one to talk, or something like that.

“I have a class.”

“Can we do it later?” you asked him almost pleadingly.

He watched you for a few long seconds, admiring every part of you that he might never be able to touch again; he nodded.

Then you walked to the other side of the campus to take your class, but you were so distracted, when you finished, you almost ran once more across to the other end to see Felix, but the place was completely empty, disappointing you, you were catching your breath and ready to leave, until you looked at him at the end of the hallway, with a smirk; he thought with satisfaction that the least you could do for him was to run to find him.

“Want some water?” he spoke more relaxed, back to being his usual Felix self.

You shook your head and quickly regained your posture.

“Where do you want to talk?” you asked him.

Minutes later, you both walked to a coffee shop, where once sitting across from each other you looked at him and realized you hadn't really planned what to say… you just wanted everything to be like before, not treating him like a boyfriend or kissing him, but you wanted to talk to him again about some terrible movies, go for lunch, have your movie nights… you felt like you were about to end a non-existent love relationship in a coffee shop. But what a cliché, you thought.

“Felix… just… I want you back.”

“You broke up with Minho?” replied Felix trying to hide his mild enthusiasm as he gazed nonchalantly into his coffee.

You knew coffee made Felix anxious; but you didn't suppress him this time like you always usually do. Felix thought this encounter was frantic enough, so adding it more with the feeling the coffee gave him, could make him immune, to a broken heart.

“No” you whispered.

Felix pursed his full lips in disappointment and continued to watch his hands intertwined in the hot cup.

“I want us to stay friends and” you rolled your eyes, just like Minho, you hated to apologize when you knew it was sincere and you had to admit your mistake, after all you were both born under the same zodiac sign, “sorry, really. I know I said something important to you when we were, you know, in a vulnerable moment."

Your gaze was submissive, begging for forgiveness. Felix smiled sideways in disbelief.

“Important to me? You mean it was nothing to you” he finely raised his gaze to you, seeing his dark eyes from a look of him you didn't know, such was hatred, “You know… you never answered my question, you just said crap like you couldn't leave him, like you were tied to him” he mumbled.

You frowned, stammering confused as to what he meant.

“That if you love him” Felix spoke again.

You took a sigh. That was the question he was referring to, and your answer was simple and honest, even if it hurt him to hear it.

“Yes.”

Felix pressed his lips together again and lowered his gaze again to his drink… he could hear and notice the sincerity with which you said it, that he had nothing more to say. It was silent for at least 2 long and tedious minutes, but you also didn't want to say anything and ruin it any more than it was. Felix pondered too much, he couldn't admit it and thought he could never do it, but he loved you the same way you loved Minho and you couldn't reciprocate to him, his mind was a continuous internal battle, still, he sighed, looked up and managed to say:

"Y/n… I need to think well, don't expect me to be well from one day to the next. But, I seriously don't want to be away from you."

You smiled gently at him and nodded, you were relieved that he looked a little calmer.

[…]

“You told him you loved Minho” Hari emphasized what you just told her, you nodded, “You broke the poor boy's heart.”

“Don't say that” you replied.

“And you do love him?” she spoke more seriously to which you looked her straight in the eyes and nodded again, “Wow, I didn't expect that from you between him and you.”

“That's why I'm here, isn't it the same for you with Chan?”

Hari was silent for a moment to which you panicked that you might have said something wrong.

“Chan and I… it's complicated, I guess I'm a realistic, do you really see me married to a man like Chan, or him to someone like me?”

You noticed the concern on your best friend's face. The afternoon had been busy for Minho just as you predicted and in the evening you told him you would be spending the night at your house as Hari was coming to visit, saying goodbye and kissing for the first time all day as he dropped you off at your house.

“Hari…” you cocked your head to the side and slid down on your couch to pull you closer.

“I'm afraid it's just… I don't know, it's really absurd, we were just supposed to be simple good fucks… but they involved feelings.”

Your heart stopped for a moment, she was starting to speak for both of you and for a second you woke up from your trance, maybe she was right. Still you spoke up.

“But, if Chan really loves you, you have nothing to worry about.”

She let out a sarcastic chuckle.

"Let's be honest, Chan at any time may decide to seek stability in a woman, something I will never be able to give him. In what world do you know the wealthy CEO stays with some random girl out of his league” she looked down ruefully, looking like she finally wanted to get it off her chest. “I'm afraid that being with him would be in vain because it would hurt so much to leave him.”

She was right, instead of helping you she was bringing you back to reality… you had to talk to Minho before you fell in love more, maybe leaving him wouldn't hurt so much. You loved Minho but you weren't sure if he loved you… and everything you had… it was because of him, making you feel bad.

“You have to clear that up with him, you have to know if things are serious so you don't hurt yourself” you told her, “Don't you feel he loves you?” you asked her, curious for an answer since you were completely unaware of being in love.

“He is… very good to me but…” she sighed and let herself fall back against the back of the couch, “maybe my fantasy will end soon and he will have to marry a wealthy and pretty woman with an important last name, his time is running out, his family is putting more and more pressure on him.”

“Oh, Hari, don't say that… what does he say?”

She let out a laugh again, now more animated.

“That we should move to Japan and forget about the people.”

[…]

Friday afternoon, you needed to de-stress, you hated being in love because it was just a constant worry all night and all day you were thinking Minho, Minho, Minho, and not in a sweet way, but in the ideology that your friend had, you were still not even sure if you wanted to marry him but, being with him would be a waste of time if things weren't serious. You were afraid that maybe it would last for years and suddenly… he would have to make his life, procreate a first born to inherit everything and that's when you leave his life after your years dedicated to him… or his years dedicated to you? because he gave you everything

You were so pensive that you didn't even enjoy his sweet lips when he picked you up from your house and greeted you.

Suddenly Minho's secretary brought you out of your thoughts by calling your name.

“Mr. Lee is waiting for you in his office.”

You blushed and nodded in sign of understanding, getting up from your chair and walking towards Minho's office, you could feel the heavy stares of your co-workers watching your every step, they weren't starting to like you at all and even less when their highly attractive boss was showing some extra interest in you.

You entered his office, finding Minho sitting in his elongated couch, relaxed with his legs ajar and the cell phone in his hand, once he saw you, he left the device on the table in front of him and smiled at you, indicating you to come closer with his fingers. You held back a smile, pressing your lips together once you were close to him; he took your hand and guided you to sit on his lap.

“Today is the last day you can be a bad girl and have office sex with your boss” he whispered naughtily in your ear, bristling your skin all over.

“Why did you have to tell your secretary to come see you?” you asked him, playing a little.

“Because I wanted everyone to know that I spoke only to you out of the blue to my office” he replied proudly, starting to kiss your neck with his tight grip on your waist.

“Come on princess, you have to give it your all on your last day, what will you do?”

You looked into his eyes… his gaze was a combination of sweetness and desire, his tender round but sharp eyes full of desire, then you looked at his lips, his perfect thin heart shaped lips… you hadn't had sex with Minho in days and suddenly you realized you desperately needed it.

“I'm going to ride your cock” you said excitedly between your teeth.

You kissed Minho, as you began to rub yourself over his growing bulge, making him moan in between the hot wet kisses you were giving him, Minho groping you, totally willing you to take control and jump on his cock over and over again. You quickly understood that this time he was letting you take control so you lowered your kisses to his neck, increasing his heart rate and making him so hard with your closeness. You unbuttoned his shirt, you were so wet and your pussy was throbbing hard, you wanted to feel his skin as you fucked him so you ran your hand delicately across his bare abdomen biting your lip, moving your hand down to his prominent erection in his pants, Minho moaned at your touch, completely yielding, you wanted to make him feel so good, so you kissed him again to turn on more on each other as you kept squeezing and rubbing his bulge and, once you had to separate to catch your breath, you got down on your knees between his legs, desperately unbuckling his belt and with a little of his help to lift his hips he pull down his pants, exposing his prominent penis sheltered in his underwear, your breath shortened, you were out of breath and your heart was beating twice as fast, Minho was watching you expectantly from above and you raised your gaze to make eye contact as you directed your lips to his erection, tracing soft kisses on it gently, making him gasp and stir in his own place, you continued to tease him, massaging his rigid cock through the fabric until you saw how little droplets of his precum pierced little through the fabric of his underwear, that's when you got rid of it, sighing at the sight of his swollen cock with its notorious veins and its tip so needy and red, you couldn't wait to play with your favorite toy, so with bated breath, you slid his smooth precum liquid all over his length until finally taking his whole cock and starting to play with it and your mouth.

You loved the dynamic of sucking your boyfriend's cock, feeling his entire length by your tongue, gently holding on to his balls, and starting to stimulate it all in your mouth, you sucked his tip hard, making Minho whimper and immediately held your hair so it didn't interrupt the process and he started to thrust you little by little, you were not mentally prepared for your boyfriend's big cock all the way down your throat, but you felt it slowly by Minho's light thrusts and his grunts, taking you to the limit and making you gag immediately. Minho smirked smugly at the scene of you being a complete excited mess, giving your best to please him, you kept enjoying his cock, at a delicious pace for Minho who kept panting mercilessly, not giving a shit that his office is not noise proof. You took your boyfriend's length a couple more times all the way down your throat, watering your eyes completely; but your mouth was exhausted and your muscles tense, to which Minho very thoughtfully, almost on the verge of his orgasm, moaned:

“Come here.”

You withdrew his cock from your mouth, so grotesquely that there was even a loud 'pop' sound as you did so. You sat on one of his thighs, licking your lips and trying to groom yourself.

“Show me how wet you are for me, are you princess?”

You nodded again with a mischievous grin, so glad he decided to touch you. You did your best to lift your tight skirt and spread your legs, Minho noticing your difficulty, he was decided to check for himself by caressing your pussy and squeezing a fingertip of his finger in your entrance, making your sensitive pussy cry more from your boyfriend's touch.

“Fuck, princess, take my cock, ride it now, take it all for me like a good girl, you deserve it” he gasped, almost tasting your soft insides embrace his choking cock.

Your legs trembled, you were at the peak of your sexual arousal and your boyfriend's sizzling voice encouraged you more. You removed your panties quickly to have your access only for him. And slowly you sat on his cock, letting out a cry as you felt your entrance stretch and try to fit the big intruder inside of it. You were halfway down his length and were already starting to whimper, still you continued, thrusting all the way in until you felt the pressure of his testicles in your pussy. You whimpered and held yourself around Minho’s neck and began to gently move in circles, feeling him on your belly.

“Move, baby, c'mon do it” he groaned.

You gasped in pain and pleasure and began to move up and down and back and forth, riding him animatedly, still in pain and pleasure. Minho in desperation and lust, unbuttoned your silk shirt, stripped it off your body and removed your bra as well, to leave your exposed body naked and licked your tits hotly and passionately, while the other hand massaged and squeezed your nipple if it was not being stimulated by his mouth. You gasped more, becoming aroused and feeling your liquid sliding down his member. You rested your hands on his thick strong thighs, urging you to jump, moving your hips feeling your boyfriend's masculinity throbbing in your loins, as he naughtily looked into your eyes with his big round brown eyes in such an innocent way while you two performed such a grotesque act, Minho licked your breasts delicately, gently biting your nipple, but stopped caressing you once you accelerated your movements, faster and deeper, you were about to cum on his hard cock, trembling you tried to lean on Minho's pecs and he in seconds took advantage to start penetrating you hard, lunging you to the fast movement of his hips, your ass pounding all way down to his balls, making your body jump while you started to whimper, you had given everything to fuck him subtly without his cock upsetting you, but suddenly there he was wildly fucking you, raising you to orgasm after a loud moan and spilling on him all your nice and shiny discharge of fluids. Minho continued to thrust you little by little, stirring his cock from deep inside you, still making you whimper for your sensitive insides, until he cum inside you, joining both cum.

Minho stopped moving and allowed you to catch your breath still sitting on his cock, but he, as he parted his body a little to witness the mess you both had made, he became hard inside of you again, you moaned as you felt it. Minho couldn't help himself, it felt so good to be in your tight pussy, the image of your delicate mons pubis with his cock buried in your tight hole and your labia sensitive and open at having him all the way inside.

“I'm going to fuck you now myself, kitten” purred Minho close to your lips.

You only saw him for a few seconds almost begging for mercy as Minho quickly pushed and carried your body gently and positioned you lying down on the couch, from which at least you had a cushion for support on your head. He still inside, lubricated by your each other's liquids, made you spread your tired legs, giving him the spectacular view of what was making him hard, his cock buried in your dilated orifice, and you, helpless and breathless surrendered to him with your eyes of desire, dilated pupils and swollen, glossy lips.

He held you by your waist with his left hand and with the fingers of his right hand began to caress your clitoris, from which your body shuddered and contracted a little. Minho started to move slowly while still giving attention to your sensitive spot with the gentle touch of his fingers, he was penetrating you deeply with constant and gentle movements for a long time, re-warming and preparing your walls and lubricating you more without noticing it.

Minho was 'gentle', as for you, he was fucking you deep making you lose your stability, until he pulled his body closer to you and gave you a dirty kiss, leaving you wanting more of tasting his lips and tongue in your mouth, but he pulled away from you a little still with his body on yours, watching you with a haughty smile knowing damn well what was to come, he withdrew his fingers from your clit and began to ram you at his own pace that made you whimper again, you felt the tip of his cock touch your cervix and his cock bulge in your belly.

“Fuck, kitten, you feel so fucking good taking my cock” Minho groaned.

Minho brought his forehead together with yours, gently brushing your noses as you felt his warm breath and kept ramming you hard, then he pulled his body away and held you by your waist, lifting a little off your hip, he pushed his full length back in, rubbing his cock hard and proud in you and kept pounding you, moving your torso like a ragdoll; you cried, you felt so full, your body writhing with pleasure at the feel of your boyfriend's cock in your core. And when you were so close and Minho felt your walls clench his cock, he gripped your neck tightly with his right hand, moderately choking you. Your gasps flooded the place, you stroked Minho's arm, his notorious veins bulging and without warning, you climaxed in your second orgasm, rolling your eyes and completely blurring your vision, this time making twice as much of a mess as the first time.

Minho bit his lip hard at the sight of your liquid slipping and falling little drops messing up the couch and let go of your neck.

“Fuck, it feels so good, I-I'm gonna cum too” he whimpered.

And he did. Releasing his thick white cum in a shot inside you once again, feeling the warmth of his semen in you.

He pulled out of you, feeling glorious at the scene of your sensitive pussy and your orifice expelling both liquids, Minho could continue fucking you, now in another position, just never get tired of you, but he saw you so tender, so exhausted and with your eyes watering that he decided to stop himself. He leaned over to you and gave you a sweet kiss on your forehead.

“That was wonderful, princess, you did great, let me clean you up. Do you need anything else? Water…? Another round…?” he said inches from your face.

After cleaning you up and helping you put on your clothes, when he was ready too, he sat you on his lap and held you like that for a while, feeling his breathing and relaxed while he answered important messages on his phone, at the same time caressing you tenderly. Later you came out of his office, totally disheveled, teary eyes, red cheeks, slightly disheveled hair and slightly messed up makeup, you wanted to go straight to the bathroom to touch up your makeup and go pee, but you had to go to your cubicle for your cosmetic bag so you still raised glances and superstitions in the air. It was undeniable what was going on in that office.

[…]

You had spent the sweetest weekend with Minho, that Saturday he planned to go camping with you, you had no idea, you thought it would be a small camping tent but Minho was more than prepared, he thought you looked cute wearing a plaid button down shirt of his that fit you big as you watched everything he did. You had an older brother so all these kinds of activities were done by your father with your brother, but it was nice to be with your boyfriend and with nature; and at night you were terrified to sleep there, but you had Minho next to you, sleeping huddled under the big tent. Sunday, you finally rejoined the city and you slept over at his house; having the sweetest sex, taking away the stress of having to socialize as you entered that new agency.

At least throughout the weekend Felix kept in touch with you via messages, of which Minho looked on with a raised eyebrow as you sometimes spent a considerate amount of time replying to him… but he had promised you and promised himself to be less jealous, so he let it go, after all, it was you he was with.

You told Felix in person the great news of your joining the company… which shocked him and made him quite happy… even though you always refused to let him give you that credit. Felix could not hide the fact that he was annoyed that you accepted everything from Minho and that you always made excuses for Felix. But that for you that had an impact in his personality, to accept something great from Felix was for you as if you were suddenly a gold digger and manipulative, that he was sensitive and delicate… while your concept of Minho was to be a serious and dominant man, and the one with a weak personality was you, however your perception of Minho is changing, you are getting to know his tender and sweet side.

And it was when the day approached, in the afternoon after the university, Minho sent for you his driver to drop you to the company; you entered with panic to which a woman escorted you to a room on high floors taking the elevator, the place was big and illuminated as nice as you always imagined.

You were welcomed once you entered the place, where there were 3 adults sitting at a table.

“You're already in, congratulations. We'd still like to have your acting practice video recorded, it's something we do” a woman sitting there told you to which you nodded.

“You can improvise with us this script and when you're ready let us know” the younger woman who led you in told you, handing you a script.

You sighed nervously and read it, studying it a bit, not wanting to keep them waiting to which you jumped in to say you were ready and, a short five minute scene, without much science or difficulty for you, certainly left them impressed.

Normally that was a kind of audition to get in, but Minho did everything he could to make sure you weren't rejected, yet the staff was so curious about you… whether you were going to make a girl they simply paid money to get you in… or whether you really had talent.

And, at last, you were taken to your first practice, where two young adults were already at the front presenting about a topic, you excused yourself as you entered and sat down without attracting attention… but it was inevitable, the girls ate you alive with their eyes as they saw you dressed from head to toe subtly and exclusively luxury designer brands, even your hair clip was from designer, making them whisper under their breath. Minho had chosen your outfit, which you accepted as you felt it was the least you could do as he fulfilled one of your dreams, and he dressed you, literally, putting on each of your garments, provocatively slipping on your panties while subtly touching you until he made you whimper and cum. A nice way to start your morning.

You caught the attention of a boy who was sitting next to you, without recognizing that he was in fact a celebrity; you were so nervous and focused on whatever the boy and the girl in front of you were saying. Twenty minutes of that course passed and you tried to keep up, you understood little, but you understood in a certain way; and in those 20 minutes that boy could not take his eyes off you, you felt it, but you thought you were going crazy to feel eyes on you when in fact it was not like that. To him you looked so familiar… your silhouette, your profile, he couldn't stop looking at you until he remembered and it was when the course ended, you stood up and he gently stepped forward so he could see your full face carefully, until he did, there you were in front of him, the pretty girl who was alone, wearing a white Versace dress and the one he liked her from a couple of weeks ago at an art event he attended. He couldn't believe it, he was stunned, he thought it was all about faith and destiny. This time he had to dare to talk to you.

You saw him along and recognized him instantly, Han Jisung, child celebrity and now social media celebrity, son of one of the country's top directors and co-founder of this company, you had heard rumors that he pursued acting as a career, however that his father wanted him to have a background and that it wasn't just about contacts and nepotism - as it was in his early childhood career - but as an adult his father gave him the opportunity to rehearse and earn acting roles on his own, so now he was practicing in his father's company, the best of them all, by the way.

You didn't make a big deal out of it, you weren't a fan of Jisung, you only followed him on instagram but he hadn't had any major roles for years; so he wasn't someone to make a fuss and idolize. With some nervousness, you approached one of the girls, ready to ask for instructions about how to get to the next room that marked your schedule, Jisung saw the confusion on your face and how you gently lifted the paper of your schedule, so he stepped forward, standing in front of you with a smile.

“Going somewhere?” he asked, his eyes wide paying full attention to you.

The other girls noticed and, like little immature schoolgirls, became jealous of you in seconds, your first impression was to walk in smugly -to them- wearing only designer and now you magically had Han Jisung's attention, they kept wondering… who you really were, whose daughter you were and why you appeared out of nowhere in the middle of the courses.

You smiled at the boy, relieved that you were getting help.

“Mmm, room C-14” you replied more in doubt than affirmation.

His smile grew bigger, showing his teeth and lifting his cheeks.

"I'm on my way there too. I'm Han Jisung by the way, but I'm better known by Han” he said, doing his best to look handsome and sound flirtatious.

You shyly told him your name and walked together to the new room.

The whole afternoon you lived a dream, unwinding in the real environment you always wanted to be in, you wanted to make love to Minho a hundred times to thank him and, the best part was when you were about to leave, although it left you thinking a little, Minho was outside in his car waiting for you and, an instructor stopped you to tell you.

“It is very common to open castings very often so by simply being part of here you are given the opportunity to audition, the calls are published every week in our private access page to the members of the agency, just to look if you meet the characteristics of the audition, you can also send the best options to your agent or public relations manager…”

Your eyes lit up, you could truly audition for real roles, the only small detail was that you didn't have an agent yet.

You walked out of your last session, walking happily to go into Minho's arms, however you hadn't noticed that Jisung was following you to keep talking, plus he didn't dare to shout your name to get your attention, so he followed you to the parking lot but stopped dead in his tracks as he saw you running into the arms of another man, leaving him perplexed. To your luck Minho was standing outside his car waiting for you and, you with a big smile that you passed on to him, he hugged you tightly.

He inhaled the sweet scent of your hair, burying his face in the hollow of your neck and shoulders as he held you tightly.

“Did you like it, princess?” he asked you softly.

“Yes, it was very nice, thank you Minho” you replied still hugging him.

You separated and he took your face between his hands to give you a kiss.

“Let's celebrate at home, I cooked you dinner.”

In the distance, Jisung saw everything puzzled, he really wanted to get closer to you, he was so curious to know who that man was and, when he separated from you, he could see his face completely, it was Lee Minho, the ex-boyfriend of his agent and publicist, with whom Jisung had also a crush for a long time, but she was always with Minho and then they broke up for unexplained reasons and now she had another man, but he always held a grudge against Minho and, if that wasn't enough, now he had you, the pretty unknown girl who was standing alone at that party. Soyul was Jisung's publicist and agent since he was eighteen, his beloved noona, and when he finally thought he could forget about her, you came along, but again, Lee Minho in his way.

On the other hand you without having the slightest idea got into Minho's car after he opened the door for you and when he was starting the car you caught his attention.

“Minho” he turned to see you right away with his eyebrows raised paying attention to you, you were embarrassed to say it but you had to, “…I think I need a publicist or PR agent, or manager… I really don't know…”

Minho blinked suddenly, “Oh my goodness, of course, princess, I'm seriously sorry I didn't prepare you sooner, I'll get you the best one as soon as we get home.”

[…]

You greeted Jisung, it was your second day and you wanted to continue adapting, but he ignored you and looked at you with a bad face, you frowned… thinking about what the hell was wrong with him. You continued the day without him saying a single word to you, he really looked annoyed with you, so before you left you approached him, wanting an explanation of his behavior or if that was his real way of being, sweet one day and the next acting strange.

“Han” you approached him, to which he turned to see you with a nasty look, almost offended that you called his name.

“Don't call me Han” he snorted, grabbing his backpack and slinging it over his shoulder to leave, without saying anything to you.

The rest of the week was heavy, your utopia lasted a day, you were barely spoken to at practice and you were starting to get so tired that you hardly saw Minho, or enjoyed with him; you came home to rest since all you wanted was to feel your bed. And every day Jisung behaved stranger and like a real son of a bitch with you, as if he hated you. And to the little lack of friends, you had Felix with whom you did not stop texting, you told him every detail, from the color of shirt that idiot Jisung was wearing, to superficial things, Minho was getting more and more annoyed that you did not leave your cell phone and it infuriated him 10 times worse to see Felix's name on your screen, so one night when you stayed at his house, before sleeping, already being in his bed, he simply told you seriously:

“I want you to stop seeing Felix. Stop texting him” he said annoyed, snatching your cell phone from you, you looked at him perplexed, “Look at me, I'm here.”

You pouted slightly, understanding perfectly that he must have felt bad.

“Minho…” you said tenderly but he didn't reciprocate your sentiment.

“I'm being serious” he added annoyed.

You laughed incredulously.

“You can't forbid me who to talk to, what-”

“I can do whatever I want with you” he interrupted you, a heavy energy taking hold of him, “Go to sleep.”

And he turned his back on you, not giving you the phone and leaving you confused. The next morning he apologized for acting that way with you, yet he didn't mention Felix, Minho was really starting to get annoyed. So, you stupidly lied to him. Felix offered to do your first movie night that Friday since you hadn't done it for weeks, so you agreed no problem since you saw him happy again, being his usual self, you were greedy and wanted everything, you wanted Minho and you also wanted Felix in your life.

So you lied to Minho, saying that you wanted to rest in your apartment that day and you couldn't see him, plus you had homework and other things, he really wanted to spend time with you and offered to be with you in your apartment if you wanted to be there, which made you feel terrible, but in the end he agreed, giving you your time alone, apparently.

That Friday night you welcomed Felix to your apartment, who was very happy to see you alone finally having your time together. He came over to your living room couch, ready to put on the movie, of which he wanted to experience something scary, you laughed as he told you about it, it was obvious that Felix wouldn't even survive the first 30 minutes of the movie, he was easily scared.

“I have to pee” you announced confidently, “but you can start playing the movie and grab the snacks, I'll be right back.”

You quietly told yourself to pee; Felix was so happy to be in your apartment again, he had given it a lot of thought and… he came to the conclusion that Minho was just a relationship, but not an official engagement, so he would subtly do everything he could to make you look at him again with different eyes and find him attractive. Felix took the remote control, agilely looking for the movie that was ready to start, he was about to stand up to choose the snacks when he felt a vibration next to him, he thought for a second that it was his cell phone, but it was yours that was resting on the sofa, Felix saw Minho's name, indicating that it was a call and his blood boiled in anger, thinking that not even in your moments alone he would not leave you alone. So, without thinking about it and to play a little, he decided to pick up the call, rubbing it in that it was him who was at his girlfriend's house on a Friday night and not him.

Minho missed you and felt so bad for simply leaving you like that, plus he wanted to be with you, so he was ready to come visit you with a bouquet of flowers since you were trying so hard at your acting practice, and he wanted to ask you if you wanted some dinner. That he would be at your apartment as soon as possible.

Minho smiled happily as he realized you took the call, he took a breath ready to speak but remained open-mouthed as he got a big surprise.

“Minho” greeted a male voice puzzling your boyfriend.

“Who is this?” he said worried with a frown.

“It's me, Felix” replied your friend with an arrogant tone, amused by the situation.

Minho couldn't believe it, he could even speak properly, causing Felix satisfaction.

“What… what are you-, where is y/n?” he asked in desperation.

Felix sighed, almost letting out a growl, “She's… agh, busy.”

Minho's heart stopped for a second, the worst case scenario came to his mind, his trust was damaged, he knew deep down that you weren't like that… but even from the one he loved the most he expected the worst, sadly. Minho hung up abruptly, leaving Felix confused and grimacing, thinking he had really upset him.

Minho rushed to your house, unsure if you were really there, but he would still come looking for you. He didn't think twice, a strength came over him, he couldn't believe it. He had to stop beating himself up and getting silly ideas or he would start crying with anger and sadness.

You came out of the bathroom, with perfectly washed hands and a smile, Felix saw you just the same, so innocent with his freckles on his face and his eyes shrinking from smiling, as if he hadn't done anything wrong seconds ago. And you sat down next to him.

Exactly 35 minutes passed, Felix was already terrified sheltering next to you, covering his eyes, until the sudden sound of your door startled you both. You both looked at the same time towards the door in fear.

“Are you expecting someone?” asked Felix in fright to which you denied, “Why didn't they warn you that someone was coming, no one can just barge in like that…”

You stopped being dramatic and stood up to see who it was, the only people you warned the doorman that they could enter your apartment were Minho, Hari and Felix; you didn't have time to check if you had any message from any of the two out of three in your list, warning that they would come to visit you, you were already in front of your door, looking through the peephole; Felix stayed behind you, scared. And you found Minho, scarier than any horror movie…. He was going to see that Felix was there. You saw him again, he had a serious expression.

You opened up to him, and his eyes opened instantly, examining every part of you, from the time it took you to open the door, from every detail of your clothes and face; but it was safe, your lips were not swollen, your clothes were intact, Minho relaxed his gaze and hugged you tightly.

“Oh, y/n” he said.

You were puzzled by his action but he was so relieved, the last time he appeared by surprise at home, his ex-girlfriend was having sex in their own bed with another man, Minho had terrible memories all the way to your place, hoping that you weren't like that.

He broke away from you, and instantly tensed as he looked at Felix behind you, who had the same disappointed reaction.

“I thought you'd be alone today,” Minho said to you in a low, croaking voice as he looked down at your silhouette.

You looked down at the ground in sorrow, you hated lying to Minho.

“Felix… he stopped by and stayed.”

Minho tried to hide his anger, he took your face in his hands and looked at you tenderly but somewhat defiantly.

“Well I'm your boyfriend and I also stopped by, can I stay?”

You nodded looking into his eyes with your face in his hands, Minho gave you a quick kiss, looking at Felix fixedly challenging him, victorious that he is the one who can kiss you, to which Felix sighed annoyed, it was enough for him, he wasn't ready to see you like this with him.

“Movie night?” added Minho amused.

Felix was about to call it a day and leave, he would let Minho win this time, he couldn't stand seeing you together.

“You know what…” spoke Felix catching both of your attention, “I remembered that I have to urgently go to something with Rachel, I'm really sorry, I have to go.”

You frowned at your friend's clear excuse, Minho smiled pleased that he finally decide to think critically and leave you two alone.

“Felix” you whispered but he ignored you, he walked over to the couch to grab his phone and keys and walked over to you.

Felix gently grabbed you by the waist and planted a delicate kiss on your forehead, not only dismaying Minho but also you, you blushed, you didn't believe he did that in front of your boyfriend without fear. Minho's eyes widened in horror and he clenched his fist tightly restraining himself, he wasn't going to hit him for that, but he wasn't going to let it go either, he would talk it over with you right away.

“Goodbye” he whispered to you as he separated from you.

And he walked through the door. You saw him sad, you were going to go after him without thinking but you felt Minho's hand take your wrist.

"Don't. Go. After him” he said threateningly.

“Minho” you whined, gently breaking free from his grip and caught up with Felix in the hallway.

“Fuck” you heard Minho mumble in annoyance.

“Felix” you called his name and walked up to him, he turned hurt to see you and you not knowing what to say, you said, “I'm sorry.”

Felix sighed again and wanted to be honest with you.

“Y/n… it's still hard for me to see you with him, please don't complicate things any more.”

“I know, I'm sorry” you repeated again.

Felix approached you, he saw your regretful look, him realizing in seconds that he could manipulate you with ease, you would always have a soft spot for him. Felix took your forearms in his hands, forcing you to look into his eyes.

“I'll talk to you later to go out another time, okay? And please make him not show up.”

You quickly denied.

“He won't.”

“Maybe you can stay at my place next time” he smiled to which your countenance quickly changed.

“Felix… I can't do that anymore.”

He looked at you seriously and sighed.

“Just… let's get back together without being interrupted by Minho, okay? I have to take it slow.”

You walked back to your apartment, finding Minho annoyed with his hands on his hips. You closed the door behind you, you couldn't even defend yourself, you had lied to him; and he had promised not to get mad anymore.

“I can't believe my girlfriend chooses her friend over me” he spat in annoyance.

“I don't choose him over you…”

“How would you feel if a girl friend invited me to her house to spend the night watching a movie while I'm around her, a night when I could be spending it together with you” he exclaimed again annoyed.

You looked him in the eyes and thought about the situation; Minho was right, you wouldn't stand for that to happen.

You didn't respond and walked to your kitchen counter, with nothing to say, but he had a lot to say so he continued, fueling his anger.

“And what angers me the most is that he walks around… touching you, kissing you, rubbing me the wrong way as if you guys had something…” he said reasoning, suddenly a flush of anger came back to him, “or did you guys actually had something, is that it? Why is it that every time I see that boy he looks at me as if he knows something I don't” he began to raise his voice.

You looked at Minho again.

“Minho don't start with that again…”

You started to get annoyed too, every damn chance he could, he would claim you if you had something with any other man.

“With what? Why is that kid walking around like he'd already touched you?” he walked towards you, stepping in front of you.

Minho suspected it from deep inside him, but he wanted to hear you admit it. This time you averted your gaze, always the same question, and you had never given him a concrete answer.

“Did I have sex with Felix? Yes, once before you, but it was really nothing, why can't you trust me now?” you started to say bravely and at the end sadly.

Minho looked at you perplexed, one of his greatest fears… but hearing the word trust, he understood immediately, his trust had been broken in the past and he was afraid of getting hurt again. He remained silent for a moment and then took hold of your waist, calming and speaking honestly.

“I'm sorry… of course I trust you but… you know what happened the last time I trusted someone.”

You searched his crestfallen gaze. You understood what he was referring to but it seemed absurd that he would hesitate, you were crazy about him.

“I would never do that to you Minho.”

Because I love you. You wanted to tell him, but you held back and just hugged him, suddenly the man who could carry you with ease and loved control, became small in your arms.

When Minho broke away he couldn't hold back and kissed you slowly, making his way with silly steps to your room to make love to you, you needed the closeness of his body more than anything else merely sexual. You wanted him close, attached to you, being vulnerable.

[…]

The rest of the week seemed to go by slowly, until your agent sent you the perfect information and appointment to audition for a TV drama. He got it for you as soon as possible, exactly that day in the afternoon, it was the last auditions they were taking so you were in luck; you were so nervous, it was your first audition for a big deal. And, two days later, you had the most beautiful call between you and your agent, confirming you got the part, blowing you away. Your first major role, you were dying to tell Minho the news.

You didn't think the staff worked too fast because that very day everything was planned inside the company, you met the producer, the director and finally… your co-worker with whom you had to act a love interest. You were stunned to see that it was a slight enemy, Han Jisung. He didn't like the idea either, but you both had to pretend with the rest of the cast for the photo, it wasn't a leading role, but you both would play important characters for the plot; two young people in high school in love, the news had been so sweet for you until you saw his face.

You stayed for the small celebration to meet the rest of the cast and important staff, you were at the dessert table until you felt Jisung next to you.

“You still have a chance to give up the role before they release the official cast photos” he whispered to you.

You turned to look at him offended.

“I'm not giving up anything just because your wacky ass is craving for it, you do it, find another role and another girl to pick on” you replied him also with attitude.

Jisung let out an incredulous chuckle and was ready to return your aggressive energy with another comment, but his countenance relaxed when he saw someone enter; he left you there and went to greet whoever had arrived. You took no notice, but suddenly a strangely familiar voice made you freeze.

“Congratulations on the role” the woman spoke.

You turned around slowly and fearfully, finding Minho's ex-girlfriend. You couldn't believe it, of all the places and all the people in the city… she thought so too, it wasn't nice to see you.

Soyul opened her eyes in surprise at the sight of you. It was all part of Jisung, he just wanted to watch the world burn and see how the before and after in Minho's love life met.

“Nice to see you again…you're an actress now…?” she spoke to you hypocritically to which you nodded, “…how is Minho, are you still dating him?”

Jisung was surprised, he didn't think you already met, he thought then, Soyul still had Minho in mind.

“Yes” you hastened to say, “he is very well, busy for work.”

“I see he's still very busy… I hope he won't neglect you” she added, leaving you confused.

You were nervous but you didn't let yourself be exposed like that; suddenly you hear a voice from the staff calling your name so you rush over there.

Soyul was thoughtful at the name you were called by and ran over there… and asked Jisung if your name wasn't Choi Eunjoo.

[…]

You had a dinner to celebrate the beginning of the shooting and development of the project, you had already received your script but… you wanted to tell Minho the news as soon as possible; they were given the rest of the afternoon to get ready, you asked the driver not to tell Minho that you had left early and, once you arrived at your apartment you sent him a message asking him if he could come to see you at your place, he quickly answered 'ok' and 40 minutes passed… you thought he would cancel you at the last minute because something important must have come up at work. You didn't have a specific plan, you just wanted to hug him and tell him the news, you had bought some wine to relax the atmosphere and make it more sophisticated… but every time you were losing hope of seeing him, until you heard yourself knocking on your door, running towards it.

You found Minho, hidden among a large bouquet of flowers, until you saw his radiant face in an adorable smile. You opened your mouth in amazement and let him pass.

“For you” he said kissing your cheek, “you've been working so hard, princess” you took the bouquet, longing for it in detail, as if he knew you would give him good news. “You missed me so much you wanted to see me?”

You smiled at him and gave him a short kiss on the lips.

“Thank you, Minho, they're so pretty… I have news for you” you left the flowers on the table and Minho looked at you with attention, you were embarrassed to say it, but you did, “… I got my first role” you exclaimed happily.

A big smile formed on Minho, he suddenly radiated genuine happiness and rushed to hug you tightly lifting you up a little.

"Congratulations, really. You deserve it” he replied hugging you.

And kissed you tightly when you distanced yourselves a little more as you didn't stop holding each other. You blushed, you didn't know how to react.

“Do you want to celebrate somehow?” he added sweetly blinking suddenly.

“Oh… I have to go to a dinner in a few hours so I didn't think of anything special, other than seeing you.”

Your words made Minho warm. You both were inches apart and his closeness always took your breath away… he looked so good, suddenly something of another kind of love and affection for your boyfriend crossed your mind… you played with the collar of his shirt and raised your gaze, giving him the lascivious eyes, you wanted to feel good.

Minho smiled sideways at the realization and lowered his hands a little from your back to your ass.

“Who's more special than me making you feel good, right, princess?” he replied.

You nodded, and your small movements were interrupted by your boyfriend's lips on yours kissing you nimbly. He pulled you closer to his body and slowly caressed from your back to your ass, you were starting to get aroused and it was just… something about Minho wearing his office clothes made you so hot, he looked so good in his tight cloth pants and his button up shirts that marked his arms.

Minho started to undress you until he left you completely naked in front of him, your body was exalted as you felt a little spank on your ass, then he took it again and squeezed it hard kissing you again. You felt so dirty and naughty being naked in front of him and him still wearing all his clothes. Minho kissed you the whole time, as he moved his hand down to your pussy and began to caress you mercilessly, wetting his fingers all over your area. He was so excited too that in one swift movement, he turned your body and made you lean back against the edge of your kitchen counter, giving him the view of your back and ass. You watched eagerly as your boyfriend pulled down his pants and released his cock, you bit your lip as you imagined him fucking you, but to your surprise, he placed his member between your folds, making you close your legs and began to rub his cock between your thighs. You both moaned and you thought about how every time he came up with anything to tease you. The texture of his cock rubbing between your labia and his tip protruding from the other end between your clitoris and mons pubis, you gasped more and more, Minho was driving you crazy. Minho held on to the lower part of your arched back as whimpered at the tightness of your thighs together pressing his cock, moving back and forth until he let out his cum, sliding down your thighs and squirting the beginning of your vulva.

[…]

The next day you had an unexpected and beautiful visit to the practice. Minho was there. Apparently he was going to be an official and heavyweight sponsor throughout the shoot. You smiled discreetly at him and slipped away to ask him if that was planned before or after you got the part, you would be disappointed to know that Minho was in the way of you getting a part, but you noticed the innocence in his eyes, he had planned it all right after you told him.

Minho was friends with the producer so he offered him to stay and see a bit about the project, Minho accepted without a second thought, that meant more time to see you.

“They are the two main ones” the producer said to Minho pointing to two adults close to his age, “And the two young ones over there” Minho saw how they pointed to you and another guy, “they are other characters with love interest… but I see a certain attitude from the guy with the girl, I think they seriously should have chemistry if they want this to go well; besides they are adorable together, don't you think so?”

Minho didn't think it was funny nor did he find the gentleman's words pleasant and then watched as the boy grabbed your arm and dragged you away from the room, puzzling and annoying him a bit.

You walked out of there with Jisung totally confused, annoyed about whatever he would want now.

“Did you read the script yet?” he spoke to you curtly.

“What?”

“I refuse to kiss you, that won't happen, I told you to give up the role” he spoke annoyed.

Again you looked at him perplexed, you didn't even understand what his problem was… but he had a very big problem towards you, it bothered him that you couldn't be his and you were running around with Lee Minho.

You really wanted to challenge and talk back to Jisung but… he was the damn son of the owner of the company.

“Oh please grow up” you just put it to him saying, rolling your eyes.

“Then cooperate to make this go well.”

You opened your eyes in surprise, you saw his intentions to get dangerously close to you, but you shifted your body uncomfortably and managed to slip away and re-enter the room a little upset, Minho saw you and wanted to instantly run to you… but he had to keep it cool.

You were thinking that Jisung wanted to behave weirdly with you, maybe he just wanted to flirt with you so you would clarify that you had a boyfriend… and you couldn't tell Minho at all because you were afraid that he would react possessive again and you hated when he got like that and blamed you by, going back to your usual fight.

Minho saw you distracted while he was driving and stopped the car near the river view. You looked around because he had suddenly stopped and you looked at him for the first time after leaving the agency.

“What's wrong, love?”

You grimaced, urging a smile.

"Nothing… I'm… anxious about the new job” you lied.

Minho smiled at you and wanted to let your thoughts pass for a second, he just wanted to hug you and being locked in his car didn't help him.

“And you feel too tired to walk for a while with your old boyfriend?” he joked imitating an old man voice which made you laugh.

You shook your head and got out of the car, feeling the cold breeze, Minho ran to you and put his coat on you. You thought it had been long days when you were out walking with Minho doing nothing special, just seeing places together. He lifted your chin, making you look into his eyes, he couldn't hold back anymore, he took your face and brushed his lips on the bridge of your nose in a kiss.

“I love you.”

That surprised you and came to you like a cold gust of wind, which suddenly turned warm in seconds. All your questions had answers now. No one could take you away from him.

“You know I love you too.”

------------------

₊˚⊹ ᰔ TAGLIST: @stayceebs97 @linocz @kimseungminsprincess @xhazmania @strayzid @jisunglyricist @tinys0ftie @yaorzu-blog @kisses-too-the-moon

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throneofsapphics · 1 year ago

Text

the ebb and flow of fate part 2

(part one) (part three) (part four) (part five) (epilogue)

Cazriel x f!Reader

Summary: “Harmless” she repeated, an edge to her tone. Still, he sensed fear creeping into her. Good. A part of him thought. If he needed to be the one to put the fear into her for her own safety, he would do it gladly.

Word Count: ~6.3k

Warnings: smut, voyeurism, slight degradation?, light bondage, shadow play, oral (m!receiving), masturbation, nightmares, flashbacks, references to sa, stalking, injury, violence, brief mention of panic attacks, bad handling of trauma

A/N: i’ve rewritten this a ridiculous amount of times and i’m very nervous, I'm planning on about 5 parts!

Cassian shot her a wink the next morning. Thank the Mother only he and Azriel were around, because she turned bright red and nearly fled the room. Only the fantastic muffins in front of her kept her rooted to her seat. Mother knows she’d thought about it all last night, up until the early morning hours, hand between her legs trying to relieve some of that pressure. She had the distinct sensation they knew exactly what was running through her mind.

“Long night?” Azriel asked, mouth indenting at one corner.

“Is that your way of telling me I look like shit?”

Cassian let out a low chuckle and shook his head. Azriel crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair - amusement starting to grow on his stupidly beautiful face. She waited, seeing if they’d say anything else.

“Can you blame us for being … curious?” Cassian asked, sitting next to Azriel, pushing his chair a little too close to be just ‘friendly.’

She spotted Azriel’s arm shift, and a slight inhale from Cassian.

“Mother above,” she muttered and snatched her muffins. If she stayed any longer, she might get a bit too curious. She stalked out of the room, ignoring Cassian’s laugh following her.

She should’ve burnt them - tossed them in the trash or sidra, but each time she ripped the seal, unfolding the crisp parchment with shaky hands. With each one, her guilt at hiding them grew as well. They’d … changed, each one laced with a different threat. Not a threat, she reminded herself. The Night Court’s borders were impenetrable, and he was all the way in Autumn. Some kind of infatuation he would get over. She let out a low hiss as the page sliced the edge of her finger, bringing her finger to her mouth. Work, she had work to do, it would take her mind off this. Gods, she was already running late and if someone found out she bled on a book … thankfully the cut sealed itself within the next few minutes. Her eyes glanced at the clock, she’d have to for-go her usual walk and winnow.

Clotho’s pen floated as words appeared on the paper and she spotted the slight furrow of her brow beneath her hood. Something is bothering you.

“Nothing new.” She fidgeted, shifting on her feet as Clotho gave her an assessing look.

Merrill wants to see you. She didn’t bother hiding her groan, drawing a small smile from the priestess. Best of luck.

Merrill, after grilling her with questions on her latest findings, was surprisingly pleasant. As pleasant as she gets, and even offered her some different manuscripts and books she’d recently found that might interest Rhysand. She made sure to thank her, receiving a small nod in reply. Her feet carried her to the small nook on the fourth floor she’d claimed years ago, books piled up to her chin. A tripping hazard, that’s what she was.

Her mind wandered. A week ago, she’d seen Cassian and Azriel. A week since she’d spotted them that night, and the subtle teasing the following morning. Since then they’d both been gone. It wasn’t uncommon for them to be away for prolonged periods of time. Their absence didn’t exactly feel intentional, but the actions prior to it did. There’s no way Azriel hadn’t already noticed her out in the hallway, even if he was highly distracted by his current activity. She’d, embarrassingly, analyzed every detail of that moment. It was branded into her mind at this point. For research, of course, she reasoned to herself. The only conclusion she could come to, taking into account the next morning as well, is they wanted her to see it. They weren’t surprised, not one bit.

She’d taken her work home with her that night. It was getting to closing hours in the library, and the texts had caught her attention enough she didn’t want to stop. She barely paid any notice as she wandered in, settling down in the small Townhouse library and spreading her papers and books haphazardly over the table. A bit of magic propped two different texts open in front of her, and she put her pen back to the parchment already scribbled with notes. She’d have to transcript those into legible handwriting later.

Moments later, she felt a shift in the air around her - then a cool blade against her next. The scent was familiar, and she went still - all of her muscles freezing in place.

“You’re dead.” A cool voice said - no amusement or mirth present.

“I hate you.” She hissed.

A snort. “No you don’t.” The blade, thankfully left and she whirled around, shoving her chair out behind her, hoping it would hit the asshole. It didn’t, of course. He only leant against the window, one hand returning truth teller to its sheath. She wondered how many people got close to that blade without meeting their death - or a world of pain.

“Nice to see you too.”

His mouth quirked up at the corner. “I should tell Cassian how-”

“No.” She interrupted, “no you shouldn’t.”

He raised a brow. If he told Cassian, she’d be stuck in the training ring for hours tomorrow - up at some ungodly hour and miserable, all before work.

“Don’t tell Cassian what?” She yelped as he emerged from between the shelves. “We had a feeling you’d end up right here.” He teased. An ambush.

She groaned. “Is this your idea of ‘nice to see you’?”

He pretended to think about it, before crossing the room and wrapping his arms around her. Her feet left the floor as he squeezed most of the air out of her, the rest coming out as a wheezing, inelegant, laugh.

When he finally let her down, after spinning her enough times she was dizzy, she barely had enough time to catch her breath before Azriel wrapped her in his arms. She could only think about how good it felt to be with them, to have their arms wrapped around her - bodies pressed against hers. Even if the hug ran a few seconds too long to be purely friendly, she didn’t mind.

He released her, looking down at her with a softened gaze. Not quite a smile, but a definite improvement from him holding a knife to her throat.

“I missed you.” She said, before realizing just how close they were standing. She cleared her throat and took a step back. “How was your … trip?” She asked weakly, shifting her eyes between the two of them.

“Fine.” Azriel answered, just as Cassian said, “Miserable.”

She bit on her bottom lip to keep from laughing.

“And your week?” Azriel asked, and she understood the message - not something up for discussion.

“Boring,” she answered. Not wanting to say I missed you both, or I couldn’t stop thinking about you. She would not act like a pining schoolgirl. To their faces. But, her filter had its limits because she asked; “did you do that on purpose?” and fought her wince at her own words.

Azriel’s eyes flickered and from the corner of her eye she saw Cassian take a few steps towards him. “Do what?”

“You know.” She clenched her jaw. They know exactly what she’s talking about - especially based on Cassian’s grin.

“If you want to know something, you need to use your words.”

A part of her, one she shoved deep deep down, went molten. But, she couldn’t hide the red flush covering her cheeks. “I have work to do,” she said quickly, grabbing her chair and pushing it back towards the desk, hiding her face beneath her hair and doing her best to look like she was actually reading.

She heard a low laugh as they left the room, and only once the footsteps faded did she let her head plunk against the desk. “I’m so screwed,” she whispered.

Two letters arrived today, both written out to her by the ‘same person,’ with slightly different handwriting. She frowned at them, one - courtesy of him was expected. But … she hadn’t heard anything from her friends in weeks. She settled on getting the nasty one out of the way.

Her fist crumpled up the paper as she shoved it deep into the drawer. Another letter, more iterations of the same things written before. No need to make a big deal out of nothing. I’ll find you in this world and the next. A shudder ran down her spine. Harmless, she told herself. A temporary infatuation - something he’ll get over.

Every time she approached the fire, papers clenched tightly in her hands, that damn tattoo would start pricking, sending zips of pain down her chest. She found herself turning back around, shoving them into the back of the drawer - willing herself to forget. If they were out of sight, maybe they’d slip out of her mind - and this would all be over. Part of her realized it might not be that easy.

Slowly, she forced her hands to open the second. A brief recap of her last few weeks, her father apparently trying to set her up for an advantageous marriage. But, she seemed pleased with a few of the suitors - describing them in detail - and a specific one she was fixated on. Another local lord's son. Her lips curved into a smile, good, she deserves something to make her happy. She shuffled through the extensive letter - three gods-damned pages.

When will you visit again? My cousin is eager to see you. Maybe you could explore your relationship more, he’s mentioned he’s written to you a few times. You should answer.

She dropped it like it had burned her. Writing to him? She told her exactly what happened. This one, she found herself able to toss in the fire. Her friendship could burn with it.

“You’re an asshole,” she muttered to Cassian, rubbing out a bruise in her left arm. He snatched her hand away.

“That’ll make it worse.”

“Maybe I like the pain,” she snipped back at him. A glint crossed his eyes, gone as soon as it came. “Besides,” she continued as if she’d never seen it. “You’re a sadist.”

A snort came from Azriel in the corner, leaning back against the wall. Shadows swirled gently around him, he had one knee propped up on the wall behind him - arms crossed over his chest. The flush on her cheeks wasn’t entirely from training, something they didn’t need to know. “If you think he’s a sadist, train with your sister.”

She rolled her eyes, and elbowed Cassian. “Why do you think I stick with him?”

“I don’t know if that’s a compliment or not.”

“Have you … heard from your friend recently?”

By some miracle, she managed to keep her reactions neutral - heart rate steady, breaths even. “I got a letter yesterday,” she admitted. “She’s looking at suitors.” Her nose crinkled with the last word.

“An arranged marriage?”

“In a way. She described each of them. In detail.”

Cassian cringed, “I don’t think I want to know.”

She thought of how she ranked them on potential bedroom prowess. “No, you really don’t.”

“Have you … asked Rhys for her to visit?”

Azriel’s question was careful. She knew his shadows were monitoring her every reaction. At her silence, they both went still.

She shook her head. “I’m not ready to see her.” I don’t know if I ever will be. They seemed .. relieved? “Why are you asking?”

He met her gaze, a cool assessing look on his face. “Wanted to know.”

Her teeth dug into her bottom lip, but she left it for now.

Hands brushed against her sides, down her ribs, over the curve of her ass. Soft kisses were pressed to her shoulder and neck. Caged in between two warm bodies.

She woke with a start, and a coil building in her stomach. Dreaming, again. Wrong, this was wrong on so many levels. Water, she needed cold, cold water. She debated the risk of running into them - just like she had before, but as far as she knew the two of them were still on some mission and hadn’t returned. Her feet hit the soft carpet, the full moon shone through her window - casting her room in a beautiful, soft glow. Her lips curved up at the corners.

Lost enough in her thoughts, she didn’t hear the sounds, coming from Cassian’s room this time, until she was nearly at the door. Her footsteps faltered, her body turning - not again, her back was already turned as she heard him.

“If you’re that curious, you might as well come in.” Azriel’s voice was rough as he leaned against the doorframe. Slowly, she turned back around. His chest was bare, a slight sheen of sweat glistening on the muscled planes of his chest and stomach. Hair disheveled, lips puffy, cheeks flushed. She’d never seen him like that before. Great, something else to fuel her dreams.

She must’ve been staring, “see something you like princess?” Cassian’s voice came from behind him, and she blinked, startling back into the present. Azriel’s smug face made her want to wipe it right off him - to march back down to her room and pretend she felt nothing, but then his hand reached out. A clear invitation. LIke a god damned fool, she took it.

He was gentle as he tugged her inside, and she knew she had a doe-eyed look. The face of someone completely in awe and completely out of their depth. His hands gripped her shoulders as he walked her back - not towards the bed. The back of her knees hit a chair, and he pushed her shoulders down. She fell rather inelegantly into it, drawing an almost mocking smile from him. His eyes traveled slowly down her body - pausing on her bare thighs - her nightgown ridden up to an almost indecent level, before flicking back up. The hazel hue burnt into her.

“Can you be good and sit there?”

Her cheeks flushed in humiliation and she nodded.

“Words.” His voice had changed, lower and firmer, a clear demand.

“Y-yes.” She stumbled over the word.

“Yes, what?”

“I can be good.” She squeaked. “And sit here.” He gave her an approving nod.

Azriel fisted a hand in Cassian's hair. Knees hit the ground. Fingers dug in his waistband. Gods, she watched as Cassian’s lips parted, Azriel letting out a low groan.

But, his eyes met hers. ”Is this what you think about at night?” How was he speaking?

”W-what?” She asked with a breathy voice. The way he looked at her … like he could see all the way inside her, see every dirty thought and fantasies she had. Maybe he could. His eyes lingered on her thighs. She pulled her dress down as if it might hide any lingering scent of her arousal.

“Show me.”

“I don’t-”

“Show me.” He repeated, a shadow brushing the back of her neck in a comforting gesture, she could read the other words in his eyes; if you want to.

Damn her. She did. Her hands slipped between her thighs, keeping them closed as much as possible. Shadows tugged at her knees, cool air hit her, hit her bare cunt - she’d worn nothing beneath. He shook his head in an amused away, broken off by a low moan as Cassian’s hand twisted around his base. He still had a hand in the other male’s hair, slowly pushing him up and down.

Her eyes fixed on him - on Cassian, as two fingers brushed up her folds, slowly beginning to explore herself. If they were going to put on a show, so could she.

Azriel, she noticed, quickly lost any restraint and she dug her teeth into her bottom lip. His breathing grew heavier, faster as Cassian moved quicker, cheeks hollowing out as if he wanted to finish, if only to watch her. A different kind of power flooded through her, and she shot a half smirk at Azriel. A few minutes passed - maybe, she wasn’t keeping track, but he’d cursed under his breath, thighs clenching, and Cassian stilled.

She barely noticed as Cassian pulled away, finally caught in her own haze of lust. Something cool brushed against her inner thighs. She yelped, trying to shift but shadows wrapped around her thighs and held her in place. Azriel’s eyes met her own; say the word and it stops. She gave him a small nod, and her hands were pulled away, secured to the sides of the chair. She didn’t bother trying to hide her shaky exhale, or her racing heart. And couldn’t hide the arousal slowly pooling beneath her on the chair. The shadows seemed to solidify as they circled around her clit, inside her, trailing up and down her thighs.

It took barely a minute before she was panting, soft whimpers leaving her mouth as she fought to keep the noise inside. If anything, the two of them looked … amused. No matter how attracted she felt to them, how much she wanted them to touch her, she wasn’t sure if she really could. Not with everything that had happened, everything still … happening. The thought drifted from her mind as the circling sped up, shadows almost vibrating against her.

She couldn’t hide her noises this time, eyes half lidded but fixed on the two of them - how they watched her, as her walls clenched and thighs shook.

Then, it was over - shadows gone and released. She tried to calm her racing heart, to steady her breath.

“Satisfy your curiosity enough?” Cassian asked her, adding “Princess,” as an afterthought. Her legs snapped back together, dress pulled down to cover herself, and cheeks flushed.

Her hands braced the sides of the chair. Fleeing, that was the best solution now. Why had she stayed? Well, she knows exactly why - but gods this was humiliating. A quick nod, and she shoved herself to her feet, having to keep a grip on the chair to stay steady.

“I thought I said to use your words.” Az said, the same firm tone as before, but he had a cruel smile playing on his lips as he turned to Cassian. “Didn’t I?”

A low laugh left the other male. “You did.”

“Seems she’s not capable of listening.” They spoke of her like she wasn’t there, and while his head was turned she started stumbling towards the door, legs still shaking.

“Now you have something to fuel your fantasies,” she said over her shoulder, winking at them with false bravado, not even closing the door behind her. She only breathed once she’d reached the staircase, sitting heavily on the top step to try and get her heart to stop racing. From now on, she’d keep a glass of water in her room at night.

“She liked it.” Cassian commented after the door closed. “We liked it,” he turned to Azriel - who now had an extra flush on his skin.

Still, he rolled his eyes. “Another thing for her to dream about.”

“And us.” Azriel gave a noncommittal hum. “Think she’ll come back?” He leaned back on the bed, propping himself up on his forearms. He wondered if they’d been a bit too much. If they should’ve asked her to stay after, to reassure her somehow. Get her to relax. Mother save him - he wanted to touch her, hold her, do … too many things.

Azriel only shrugged his shoulders before taking his leave, closing the door behind him. He flopped back on his bed, running his hands through his hair and hoping they hadn’t messed up.

Azriel knew he had to find her, and slipped from Cassian’s room as quickly as he could. One of them might be better now, and considering he’d led her right into it - he knew it had to be him. Just to check she’s alright.

Her defenses were down as he snuck up on her, sitting right on the top step. He made his footsteps heavier as he approached, taking a seat next to her - leaving a good foot of space between them.

“I’m sorry.” She mumbled, hands covering her face.

“Why?” Her hands slid up her face, tightening in her hair. “It doesn’t … have to happen again,” he offered when she didn’t reply.

“Right.” She said hoarsely. “A mistake.”

His chest tightened. If that’s how she sees it … “Right.”

The fingers tightly clenching her hair loosened, shoulders folding slightly inwards. Relief.

“I’m … did I push too far?” Azriel felt unusually insecure. She wasn’t just anyone, for gods sake it was his brother’s younger cousin. One of his closest friends' younger sister. More importantly, his friend.

“Nothing I didn’t want,” she finally looked at him. Cheeks still flushed, a half smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes. For once, he couldn’t read her. “Consider my curiosity satisfied.” She shot a wink at him. Y/n rose, brushing her dress down, and turned back down the hallway. His eyes tracked her departing figure. Legs no longer shaky, shoulders held high. A string tugged at his chest. Go after her, a part of his subconscious rose, mistake, mistake, mistake another repeated - and he stayed in place.

Something to fuel your fantasies.

When she was out of hearing range, he let out a groan.

Cassian was surprised when Azriel stalked back into his room. Less so when he explained the conversation he had.

“Did she really call it a mistake?” He asked. He knew Az was telling the truth … but that didn’t seem like her.

“She did. And looked relieved when I agreed.” Azriel replied.

Cassian tensed next to him, he hoped y/n didn’t think Azriel spoke for the two of them, but realistically he knew she did. “I didn’t think it was one.”

Mistake. Why the hell did she say that? It doesn’t have to happen … Does that mean he would’ve wanted it to? She got no sleep that night, the whole situation playing over and over again in her head. And the conversation after. Did she really want it to happen again?

They’d built a friendship over the years, and she doesn’t want it to come tumbling down over this one incident.

“Mistake,” she muttered to herself - drifting into sleep just before dawn.

She startled as her door flew open. Cassian stood in the doorway - fully dressed in Illyrian leathers and grinning like the cat who caught the canary.

“Noooo,” she groaned, shoving her face back into the pillow.

“Long nights are no excuse.” She flipped him off and he let out a long-suffering sigh - but left. She hummed in content, and rolled back over to sleep.

Sleep didn’t come, and a large bowl of ice cold water soaked her. She let out a screech loud enough he covered his ears. “I’ll kill you,” y/n snarled.

He raised a brow, as if he was daring her. Her eyes rolled. “Get out, I need to change.”

“Nothing I haven’t seen princess.”

“Out,” she pointed to the door, but let out a low laugh.

“I’ll be back in five,” he said over his shoulder.

“Ten.” She countered.

“Seven.”

“Fine.” She glanced at the clock. He would be back in exactly seven minutes, she didn’t doubt that.

At least he seemed to be acting as usual. Azriel, she’d have to see. There was no doubt in her mind he’d reported their conversation back to him. Az was harder to read, but he had his tells.

I’ll see you soon, my heart.

Be careful where you wander.

I’m getting tired of waiting.

Six months of this bullshit, she winced at the nickname - and he had the nerve to write it like a fucking poem. “Deranged,” she muttered, shoving it into the drawer. He couldn’t get to her, she reminded herself. For some reason, she hadn’t burnt them. Every time she went close to the fire, something stopped her. Her teeth dug into her bottom lip. Maybe it was time to say something. After the … mistake, a few nights ago - she didn’t know if they would react differently. But, she had reminded herself several times nothing had to be different. Nothing had to change.

“What’s deranged?” An amused voice said from the door. Cassian. She froze, shoving the drawer closed before turning around, leaning back against the desk. His eyes narrowed, he’d clocked every movement on hers. “Keeping secrets?” He raised a brow, striding into her room.

“No,” she answered, a bit too quickly.

“We need to-” she heard Azriel from the doorway. A shadow curled around his shoulders, around his ears, and his shoulders tightened.

“Secrets?” He murmured, following Cassian inside.

“Did I invite you in?” Y/n snapped. Her heart raced, palms starting to sweat. They glanced at each other, before looking back at her.

“Didn’t realize friends need an invitation.” Cassian drawled. Her hands tightened around the desk. Something about the word friends struck her, but she ignored it. “Have a secret lover?” If she didn’t know better, she’d say his voice was a little tight.

“Maybe,” she teased, and both of their eyes flashed. Maybe it wasn’t as much of a mistake as she thought. Then, she thought of how much she was about to ruin, and braced herself. Her chest pricked, their proximity, combined with the proximity of the potential threat making the bargain tug on her. Her hand rubbed slightly at her collarbones, and she realized the mistake too late. “There’s … something I need to tell you. Please don’t be mad.”

A heavy silence filled her room. “What is it?” Cassian’s voice was tight.

“Don’t get angry.” She insisted. More silence. They wouldn’t make that promise. It was too late now to turn back, too late to refuse to tell them.

She turned, heart racing, and slid open the drawer. Her hands shook violently as she gathered the balls of parchment, smoothing each one out as best she could. They waited for her and felt their stares - digging into her back and side like a brand. Footsteps sounded across the room as her hands tightened around the papers, eyes clenched shut. Wordlessly, and without sparing a glance in their direction, she held them out.

Azriel took the papers from her hands, careful not to touch her. Cassian was a step behind.

Azriel’s eyes were scanning the papers, but he kept his on hers. Her pretty eyes passed over him in favor of the exit as she took a step to the side. His wing reflexively flared, ushering her back towards them and blocking her path. In any other situation, he might have laughed but anxiety, guilt, and shame rolled from her in equal waves. They didn’t promise not to get angry, not wanting to make a promise they would break. Still, she was shaking like a leaf and he bumped her shoulder with his wing - in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. Only she retreated back into herself more, shoulders curving inwards. He frowned.

Beside him, Azriel was too still. Confident y/n wouldn’t flee, he looked over his shoulder. He hadn’t missed how she rubbed the bargain tattoo on her chest and a pit grew in his stomach.

Several minutes passed as they read together. Azriel would read one before passing it off to him. Letters dating back to months ago, she’d organized them by date. A faint and unfamiliar male scent lingered. A fiery rage grew inside of him with each one.

As he finished the last letter, Azriel spotted the envelope on the desk and snatched it. Addressed to her, her friends name on the outside, but someone else's signing off at the bottom. He’d kept an eye out for any letters or packages coming in after the incident. His anger was split between her, the male, and himself.

“Did you reply to any of these?” He asked, tilting his head to look at her. She shook her head, avoiding his gaze. A muscle in his jaw clenched. “Look at me.” She blinked and slowly did, her shoulder straightened, chin lifted, but a slight tremor in her hands remained and a few tears pricked the corner of her eyes.

“Why didn’t you say something?” His eyes dropped to the tattoo on her chest, peeking out above her top. ‘Anyone does that to you again, you tell us.’ They never specified when. In his peripheral, Cassian looked ready to throttle her or break something.

“I just did.” She snapped at him, her temper flaring.

“Why didn’t you say anything six fucking months ago?” Cassian finally exploded.

“They were harmless.” Y/n matched his pitch.

“If you really thought they were harmless, why did you keep them?” Azriel added cooly. Cooly, but he was struggling to keep his temper in check.

“I tried to get rid of them.”

“And why couldn’t you?” He asked mildly.

“Because of this,” she waved at her chest. Point made.

“Magic,” he emphasized, “thought they were a threat.”

“No.” A muscle in her jaw clenched. “Magic thought it was something similar. That doesn’t make it a threat.”

Cassian let out a disbelieving laugh. He was inclined to do the same.

She ran her hands through her hair, “Can we talk about this tomorrow?”

“No.” They both answered at the same time.

“We had an agreement.” Cassian added.

“It wasn’t a fair bargain.” She winced after. She did set it up, after all.

“It’s supposed to keep you safe,” Cassian kept arguing with her.

“I can handle myself.” Her eyes were starting to line with tears. Cassian was still angry. He knew that anger - the kind that wouldn’t stop for anything. Wouldn’t stop until he left a path of destruction behind him.

“Really?” Cassian’s brows rose, “Can you? If you can’t recognize a fucking threat?” He was nearly yelling, almost screaming at her.

“Out,” Azriel all but ordered, shoving him out the door. “Cool off.”

Cassian snarled at him, but left without another word.

Azriel fixed her with a look, and she fidgeted - some of the temporary bravado falling away. His delivery wasn’t any gentler, but at least he wasn’t quite bubbling over with rage.

“He’s right. The problem is you don’t fucking think.” Cold, he kept his voice as cold as ice. Let every bit of disappointment, anger, and betrayal sink in.

“What do you mean?” Her entire body seemed to stiffen, expression turning to stone.

His filter disappeared as the words came out. “Why didn’t you leave autumn early?”

Her eyes shuttered closed. “So this is my fault now?”

“Don’t put words in my mouth.” It was too late for him to take it back. He couldn’t understand why she didn’t leave. Didn’t take herself out of a dangerous situation.

“You made it pretty fucking clear.”

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t show Rhys.” He switched angles, he knew the loopholes as well as she did.

“I can’t.” Honesty, finally a bit of truth out of her. Tears finally dripped down her cheeks, her face fell, eyes turning empty as her body seemed to cave in on itself. Azriel could stomach a lot of things, but the broken look in her eyes … he had to turn away and leave, before he gave into the temptation to go hunt that male down, hunt him for causing this. Even though he knew part of it was his fault.

Go back. Go back. His shadows were almost pleading, but he ignored them, only sending one to keep an eye on her. Hopefully keep her from doing anything else stupid. Or at least giving him a warning.

After he was out the door, he realized he’d left the letters behind. He debated turning back to get them … later, he could find those later. Now, he needed to find Cassian.

Her jaw was open as Azriel left the room. Turned his back on her. Maybe she had messed up - but to imply what happened was her fault?

They can’t understand if you don’t tell them, said a soft feminine voice. One she recognized well enough.

“Why do I have to explain my trauma?” She murmured out loud. The priestesses had recommended journaling, but anything written down would be fair game here.

Her eyes spotted the letters still on the table. She could hide them now. Gods, she wanted to be petty like that … but if Azriel genuinely thought he was a threat. A threat to her could put others in danger, and that’s not something she could handle.

A plan formed; find him, give him the letters, get the fuck out of here.

She gathered them, and mustered as much confidence as she could to stride out of the room.

Her senses took her down the hall, down a set of stairs, to a smaller office, not used frequently. Did they meet here frequently? She shoved the very inappropriate thought out of her mind.

Sure enough, they were liplocked when she entered. Surprisingly, they burst apart as she flung the door open, letting it bang against the opposite wall. Maybe they mistook her for someone else. She only tossed the papers at him, letting them flutter to the floor in front of him.

“Here’s your evidence,” she put as much venom into her voice as she could, and pivoted to leave. Plan almost finished. They were out of her hands now, out of sight and maybe out of mind. At least she was halfway there.

Azriel re-appeared in front of her, using his shadows to move through the small space. She startled, stumbling backwards - her back hit the desk and she braced her hands on it.

“Don’t leave Velaris.” Every word was laced with a threat and warning.

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“I’ll drop you off in the House of Wind if I have to.”

Every muscle in her body went stiff.

Fifteen years old, her first attempt to leave Hewn City. A door closed. Locks slamming on the outside. Wards trapping her in. Suffocating, she couldn’t breathe - not even the windows would open. She grabbed at her hair, pulling angrily against it - like the pain might bring her back down to earth. “No no no no,” she ran to the door, trying the lock again.

“Get it together,” a voice snapped her out of her reverie. Cassian was in her face. A small bit of worry showed in his eyes, but overshadowed by his anger. She flinched, shrinking back into herself.

He blinked, and took a step back. She was shaking, why was she shaking? Get it together, she repeated his words to herself, and managed to straighten her shoulders.

“Fine. I’ll play by your rules.” For now, went unsaid. Cassian’s brow furrowed. Probably confused by how easily she gave in. “But,” she fixed Azriel with a pointed stare, “don’t think I've forgiven you.”

He let her shove past him, stalking out the door.

“What did you do?” She heard Cassian.

“Nothing. She’s overreacting.”

Part three. Get the fuck out of here. She had to do that, or she might say something she really regrets.

They stayed well out of each other's paths.

Technically, the library was open from dawn till dusk. She took every advantage of it, throwing herself into work and convincing Mor to train after dinner or haunting one of her friends' doorsteps if she wasn’t available. Her sister didn’t question it. Half of her expected the small tattoo to start pricking at her, but it hadn’t. Maybe the intention behind it was not to hide inside the house. Either way, she wouldn’t question it. By some miracle, she’d managed to avoid both of them - although they were in Velaris. A strong shield around her room kept sounds out and in while she was sleeping. Pride kept her from asking if they were staying somewhere else.

“Will you train me?” She’d asked Mor later that day.

She shot her a surprised look. “I thought Cassian did.”

“I need a break from him.”

Mor looked contemplative. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she gave an exasperated sigh.

“I thought you’d never ask.” The wicked glint in her eye made y/n think she might regret this.

Her efforts lasted for two weeks.

She was pinned against a brick wall, one arm against her throat, cutting off her windpipe. Another hand lifted her dress, “I know you like playing hard to get,” a voice whispered in her ear, teeth biting at her neck …

The scene changed, a gentle hand brushed against her cheek, lips grazed against hers - before she was shoved back. She couldn’t see, everything was hazy but the voice was clear as day; “I don’t want anything to do with you.” Azriel. “We don’t want anything to do with you.” Cassian.

Her body lurched forward and she clutched her hand to her mouth. Not as bad as last time. Her hand reached for her nightstand, grabbing the glass of water she always kept there. Moving on muscle memory, she brought it to her lips, waiting for the cool liquid to slide down her throat.

Empty. Her fingers pinched the bridge of her nose. Was it worth wandering downstairs? Her stomach churned again and she flung herself out of bed, not bothering to put on shoes as she stumbled for the doorway, clutching her glass to her chest like a child with a doll.

A small fae light grew from her palm to hover above her, guiding her down, down, down towards the kitchen. Twisting the tap, water filled her glass to the brim. The cold liquid slid down her throat, soothing the burning. Two chugged glasses later, she filled it again to take it downstairs. The door hinges creaked behind her, and she spun around - water sloshing over the sides of the glass, dripping down her bare thigh. She couldn’t move.

Cassian stood in the door, wings tucked in tight, still in his leathers - hair tousled as if he’d just flown in. The first time she’d seen him in two weeks. His eyes tracked the water dripping down her thigh, before darting back up to hold her gaze, his expression unreadable, his hand white-knuckling the doorknob. Twelve soft chimes of the clock. Midnight. He turned, closing the door behind him with a soft snick. Something in her chest cleaved. Wood dug into her back as she slid to the floor.

#cazriel x y/n #cazriel x reader #cazriel #cassian x azriel x reader #azriel x reader x cassian #azriel x y/n #azriel x reader #cassian x y/n #cassian x reader #acotar smut #acotar fanfic #acotar fic #acotar fanfiction #azriel shadowsinger #cassian acotar #acotar x reader

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nolita-fairytale · 2 years ago

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burn your life down | chef luca x fem!reader | chapter three

summary: while you and luca seek inspiration outside of the kitchen, you finally share a piece of yourself with him.

warnings: fluff, eventual smut, eventual angst not use of y/n, conversations about divorce, second person pov, swearing, danish inaccuracies, very little connection to the world of the bear.

word count: 2.2k

a/n: thank you again for all the shares, reblogs, comments! let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist!

part two | masterlist | part four

It’s been a month or so since Luca’s tasting menu for one, and he’s been nothing but a good thing in your life: a friend, a collaborator, a regular diner who gives fantastic feedback. You’ve become fast friends, and after what he did for you, how could you not? You find yourself spending days off with him at a more frequent pace as of late: enjoying cups of coffee, perusing bookstores, following Luca on bicycle as he shows you the city’s lesser known, yet spectacular bakeries. He gives you a heads up when he can’t make it into the restaurant, but most Saturdays, he continues to make his regular Saturday 7 pm date week after week.

Some days you make him something off-menu – something you’re working on, something you’re recipe testing, a dish you’ve bounced ideas around with him over – and other days he’s eager to try whatever new thing you’ve just added to your menu, insisting for you not to go through the trouble of whipping up anything else. It’s a special relationship – something only food-people can understand – and you’re glad that Luca entered your life.

“Hey, your boyfriend’s here,” Jesper says, interrupting your dinner prep as he grabs your attention.

“My what?” you ask him, with no clue in the world what he’s talking about.

“Luca,” he answers plainly, as you and Mathilde both exchange a look.

“Shut up, Jesper,” you both snap in unison, shooting a glare his way.

You exchange another look with Mathilde, almost as if to say: you good? She nods towards the front of house as if to say: yes, I’ve got this covered.

“Yeah, give me a second and I’ll be right out,” you finally direct towards Jesper, as you put down your knife. You reach a stopping point, wiping your hands on your apron, as you leave behind the Mikkelson twins bickering about what Jesper’s previous comment.

Something about ‘you baby her’ from Jesper and a ‘you’re going to scare her away and this is a good thing, you idiot’ from Mathilde in return. At least that’s what you’re able to make out from your basic Danish language skills (you’re working on it, you swear, and right now you know enough to get by in the kitchen and that’s enough)!

You spot Luca with a package tucked underneath his arm as he leans up against the front door, waiting for you.

“Hi,” you greet him, choosing to ignore the fact that your heart skips a beat as soon as you see him.

“Hey. I was on my way to the post office around the corner. Thought I’d stop in and say hello,” he replies with that ever-charming crooked smile of his.

“No, yeah, I-. I’m glad you did,” you return, unable to hide the smile that spreads across your lips.

You don’t want to make a big deal out of it, especially if this is somehow something you’ve made up entirely in your head, but it seems as if Luca’s found different ways – different excuses – to stop in more and more frequently as of late.

“What’s in the box?” you ask him, curiously, gesturing to the package he holds underneath his arm.

“Remember that American I was telling you about? The one who came to stage?” he asks, looking down for a moment.

“Yeah.”

“His restaurant opening is this week. Wanted to send this off. As a gift.”

“That’s kind of you.”

He blushes, just for a moment.

“Think we’ve lost touch with the art of a handwritten note. A novelty these days,” he says, with a quick raise of both eyebrows.

“Absolutely. I mean… it worked on me,” you chuckle, immediately regretting what’s come out of your mouth.

You’re not sure why you said it and what exactly it is that worked on you you’re referring to, but it’s too late to take it back.

“Yeah, I’ve got him to thank, really,” he chuckles, almost shyly. Taking a bolder approach as he continues with, “For reminding me to walk the walk. For bringing me to you.”

You pause, your heart catching in your throat. In the event of fight, flight, and freeze, it really feels like you’re choosing ‘freeze’ whenever Luca’s been around.

“I bet you’re a really great teacher,” are the words that fall out of your mouth, immediately regretting them for how silly your response sounds.

“So was he,” he parries back.

“Sure,” you nod, still reeling from whatever the hell came out of your mouth a moment ago.

Your disconcerting slip-of-the-tongue seems to leave an uncomfortable silence between the two of you, tip-toeing around each other, unsure of who should make the next move.

“Anyways,” Luca clears his throat, collecting himself. “I ehm, gotta get going. Gotta get back to the restaurant here in a few. It was good seeing you today.”

“You too,” is all you reply, frozen and stuck in your own head.

What the hell is wrong with you? You think to yourself as you watch him go.

“Luca, wait,” you say, pushing through the front door to your restaurant as you chase after him.

He turns back towards you, a kind of ‘did I leave something behind?’ look on his face.

“I can’t stop thinking…” you trail off, taking a breath before you continue your sentence, leaving Luca unsure of what you’ll say next.

“...about that dish you’re stuck on. And about what you said.. about finding inspiration. Being open to… you know, what’s out there.”

“Yeah?” he asks, smiling at the thought of you thinking of him.

“Yeah I… I think I have an idea,” you declare boldly.

And it may be a baby step, but it’s a baby step towards him, towards who knows what, towards whatever’s ahead of you.

-------------------------------

You pitch the idea to Luca – to explore different mediums of art as a way of seeking out inspiration (and maybe it’s just another excuse to see him too) – and after a few weeks of busy schedules, covering at the restaurant for coworkers-on-holiday, and lining up days off, you and Luca finally make it happen. It’s been over a year now, since the restaurant opened – and almost two since you came to Copenhagen in pursuit of a dream.

“Wait a second. So you haven’t read Rene Redzepi’s A Work In Progress?” Luca asks incredulously looking for confirmation of the obscene tidbit of information you’ve just revealed to him.

“No,” you admit, guiltily stealing a glance his way.

“My god, it’s fascinating! I’ll have to lend you my copy,” he charges forward, solving the problem at hand without question.

“I’d like that,” you smile, almost to yourself as you think about how much you like being around Luca. “And I’d love to hear about your time at noma – what working under him was like.”

“Uh… that’s maybe a different story for a different time,” he deflects with a chuckle, shooting you a look. “Perhaps after a few pints.”

“Heard,” you nod in understanding, turning to him as the two of you find a good place to post up in the park. You and Luca set your lawn chairs down in Kongens Have, or rather The King’s Garden, right behind a row of other lawn chairs set up that face the tent-covered stage.

“It’s good to see you,” you finally say, really taking him in.

“It’s good to see you too. Sorry it’s just working out now,” Luca apologizes emphatically.

“No, it’s okay! We uh… we’re both busy. We both run restaurants. I mean-, I’m surprised we figured it out in time for the show,” you reply, easily letting him off the hook.

“This is pretty cool,” he says, taking in your surroundings. “First time here?”

“Yeah I-, I didn’t make it when I first moved here… and then this time last year I had just opened the restaurant so… yeah first time. You?”

“Yeah, first time,” he echoes with a reassuring nod.

“Really? I just thought-, well, I thought Copenhagen Jazz Fest was like a huge deal here,” you inquire.

He shrugs, responding with, “I reckon you’re a big jazz fan then, eh?”

“Yeah,” you say.

“Have you always been into it or-?” he questions curiously.

“Uh, no. I… my ex,” you hesitate, figuring you should tell Luca sooner rather than later. “... my ex-husband is a music historian so… I got really into it when we first started seeing each other.

He balks, only for a moment, hoping you don’t notice the strong reaction that briefly flashes across his face.

“You were married?” he asks, barely able to hide the surprise in his voice.

“Yeah,” you admit, nervously.

He waits a beat.

“Do you… want to talk about it?” he asks carefully, with an honesty and genuine curiosity in his voice.

“I-I don’t mind. As long as you don’t-,” you stammer, only a little taken aback by the grace he’s shown you.

“Please,” he encourages, listening carefully. “I like learning about you.”

You freeze for a moment, searching for where to begin, and more than anything, in awe of Luca.

“We met right after I moved back home to Boston – right after I finished school,” you begin, watching him carefully for any kind of reaction.

“And it was good. For a long time. But after a few years of being together, his mom got sick and uh… we both decided that we wanted to move to London so that he could help his sisters take care of her. It was just easier… if we got married… with immigration and stuff.”

“But you loved him?”

“Yes,” you answer. “I think… we knew we wanted to stay together… so we took the leap, unafraid of the fact that everything has its expiration date too. Ours just uh, came a little sooner than we expected.”

“What happened?” Luca asks.

You chuckle dryly, racking your brain for the answer to a question you’ve asked yourself a million times.

“Um… moving back home changed a lot, I think. And we met when we were so young that I don’t think by the time we were caring for a sick parent together, we realized we didn’t really even know who we were anymore,” you explain, putting words to a feeling that’s live in your heart for so long – long enough that you’ve barely shared them with anyone else.

“And… I was living in a whole new country without any kind of familiarity. I was homesick, and all of it – it was just really hard on the both of us,” you think through as you speak.

“I think it just made us realize that we had changed… and that maybe we weren’t the same people who fell in love all those years ago.”

“I’m sorry,” Luca apologizes, sending you an empathetic glance.

“It’s okay,” you’re quick to reassure him. “It was tough. Don’t get me wrong. Like… really tough. But nothing… horribly wrong happened. Some people can grow together.” You pause, only for a moment. “We didn’t. We… weren’t those people, I guess. So we grew apart.”

Luca takes a few moments to process what you’ve just told him with a pensive look on his face – and you can’t blame him.

He waits a beat, before returning his gaze to you, a respect for you in his eyes: for your honesty, for your story, for your resilience.

“Are you still in love with him?” he finally asks.

It’s a good question – an interesting one – and even more interesting that he asked in the first place.

“There are parts of me that will always love him,” you share, the vulnerability coming more naturally to you as Luca makes you feel more and more comfortable. “He’ll always be a part of me and… I still keep in touch with his family, you know. They became… my family too.” You pause, knowing that you can say this next part with full conviction:

“But to answer your question, no. I'm not… I’m not in love with him anymore.”

Luca nods slowly, almost as if he’s waiting for you to change your mind – to take it back – to say something that convinces him otherwise. But you don’t, and he’s not sure he’ll be able to help himself from giving in to things he’s been feeling for you.

“I hope you don’t mind that I asked,” Luca finally says.

“No I-,” you begin. “I’m glad you did. It feels nice… having someone ask.”

He smiles, “Like I said. I like learning about you.”

And with that, the two of you settle into your lawn chairs as the performers make their way onto the stage. There’s a shift – within the crowd, between you and Luca – as the musicians take their places, ready to perform. With the first few notes, the tuning of a guitar, a few keys on the piano, you feel yourself relax a little, encompassed by the warmth of the Copenhagen summer night.

It’s almost as if telling Luca, sharing this with him, has lifted a weight off of your shoulders – no longer hanging over your head as you go back and forth of when to tell him, and if you should tell him, and thoughts of ‘why the hell are you worrying about this it’s not like he wants to know’.

Except he did and he does because he wants to know you.

And tonight, because he asked, because he’s proven to be a great listener, and because he looks so damn good doing it, you might just let him.

-------------------------------

a/n: ok how the hell are we feeling now that we know a little more about reader, her past, and why she's been holding back?! i honestly wanted to write a character that felt fresh, and different from me/my make my heart surrender character SO yeah, this where we're at --second chances at love and a story about opening up again -- with more to come.

#chef luca #will poulter #luca the bear #the bear season 2 #the bear headcanon #luca x reader #the bear hulu #the bear fx #the bear fanfiction #chef luca x reader #pastry chef luca #burn your life down

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dragonmama76 · 2 years ago

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Eddie and Corroded Coffin are back in Indy for the last stop on their first national tour. It’s been a whirlwind and they are grateful to have a night off at home before their last concert. Even though they are physically exhausted, no one wants to sit in the hotel. Gareth calls down the desk and asks the concierge to suggest some up and coming places they might take in a show and a list is sent up right away. Looking it over, they decide on Greener Pastures which has a drag cabaret. The concierge made a note that it was a new break out hit with a wildly talented headliner.

Fame will get you everywhere, so their manager, Chrissy, calls the club to make sure they won’t be standing in line to get in and they are assured that they will be able to slip in before the official opening of the night.

Robin Buckley generally loves her job as the weekend floor manager at Greener Pastures. Even though in real life she is still a bit socially awkward, here she plays her part with ease. Dressed in a fashionable, tailored suit with her hair slicked back and some heavy eye makeup she has a confidence that she fervently wished she could carry into her personal life. But when she gets the call from the manager of Corroded Coffin she can feel the facade slipping a bit. Assuring her that getting them in quickly and quietly is no problem, her brain starts to go into overdrive. But this is her job and she knows how to execute. First stop is the doorman. “Harry, we have some VIPs coming in soon. You know Corroded Coffin? Well we are hosting all four of them tonight. Please walkie me when their car pulls up and go ahead and let them in right away.” “Sure thing, Rob!” Harry replies, nodding agreeably. Second stop is her lead waitress. Robin instructs her to sit them at a front table and make sure they get the best service. And then finally, well, she has to tell Steve.

Steve stares at Robin, his mouth open just a little. “I’m sorry, what? It sounded like you just said that Eddie was coming to see the show. You can’t possibly mean our Eddie.”

“I do. I do mean our Eddie. Eddie Munson. Corroded Coffin front man and our old pal Eddie.”

“How? I mean….do you think he KNOWS??”

“How should I know??” Robin throws up in her incredulously. “Their manager called and said they were coming and could we make sure to have space for them and maybe let them in early and I just said great and of course and no problem and now I’m here talking to you.”

“Okay, Rob, breathe. I’m sorry. Don’t get stressed. You just go out and do your job and I’ll do mine and it will be totally fine. We’ll see him and he’ll probably recognize us and it will be just fine. It’s not like what we do here is a secret, we just haven't seen him since he left.”

Robin nodded. “I know you keep saying it will be fine and I’m sure it will be. Fine. Of course it will. I mean, look at us! He may be a rockstar but WE are fucking amazing ourselves. You’re practically famous in this town as it is.”

Steve smiled big, “That’s the spirit! Hey! Let’s do the VIP number tonight for his table. Make sure Maria sets it up, ‘kay? Love you Rob, but I have to get ready!”

Eddie and the guys are having a great time enjoying the show. The singers are all fantastic and the performance is top notch. Plus the service is some of the best they’ve ever had. Their waitress is attentive and friendly. He makes a mental note to thank whoever it was that suggested they come out here tonight.

Suddenly the lights go out and the announcer’s voice booms out, “And now, our very own, the lovely Miss Stevie!”

The music starts with a quiet riff and suddenly the spotlight shines in front of Eddie. Miss Stevie is sitting on a stool that’s been placed right in front of Eddie. She gives him a big wink and sings,

The minute you walked in the joint, I could see you were a man of distinction, a real big spender.

Eddie sucks in a breath and can feel a blush rising. He enjoys a man in drag, but he wouldn’t say it’s normally an attraction for him. This is a definite exception.

Good looking, so refined. Say, wouldn’t you like to know what's going on in my mind?

Miss Stevie was something else. Gorgeous brown eyes and a teasing smirk. Tall sparkly heels, fishnets, babydoll slip dress. She reminded him of someone, but his mind couldn’t hold on to a coherent thought. She was singing right at him and he never wanted her to stop.

So let me get right to the point, I don’t pop my cork for every guy I see. Hey big spender! Spend a little time with me.

As the chorus of ladies came in to pick up the song, Steve leaned down to whisper in Eddie’s ear, “Hey man, if you want to come backstage later and say hi, just let Rob know” Indicates Robin with flourish and a wink, and hops gracefully back on stage to continue the song. All the while flirting with Eddie for everyone to see.

The song ends and Eddie applauds enthusiastically, wanting it to never end, but also hoping it would end quickly so he could go meet this beauty.

A couple songs and an encore later and Miss Stevie finally struts off-stage for the last time that night, blowing a kiss to Eddie as she leaves.

Robin heads over to Eddie. “Mr. Munson, Miss Stevie mentioned you might want a private tour backstage?” The guys hoot and holler while Eddie blushes, but he eagerly agrees to go. Turning to the guys he shoos them out the door, “Okay, alright, I guess I’ll see you guys bright and early tomorrow! Don't get into any trouble on the way back to the hotel.”

Robin is already moving at a brisk pace, so Eddie picks it up, never quite managing to catch up to her as they move around tables and down a dim hallway past open doors with performers kicking back after the show. Finally, they get to the last door and Robin knocks once and enters.

Steve is at his makeup vanity, wig off, carefully wiping his face when he catches a glimpse of Eddie trailing behind Robin. He turns grinning, and in his best Southern accent says, “Why, Eddie Munson, as I live and breathe!”

Eddie does a double take, “STEVE HARRINGTON?? What the HELL, man??”

Steve and Robin collapse in a fit of giggles while Eddie just stares.

When the fit of laughter eventually subsides amid comments like, “Your face, man! I wish Jonathan was here to capture this all on film!” and “I thought you would have at least recognized Robin, though!”

“Yeah, what’s up with that one?? Have I changed that much since high school??” Robin demanded. Eddie sputtered, “It was dark in there! And no offense, Buckley, but you were NOT who I was paying attention to. Christ, Steve, how does the King of Hawkins High become the reigning Queen of Indianapolis?”

“Couldn’t take your eyes off me, huh, big boy?” Steve purrs, and enjoys watching Eddie turn a delectable shade of red.

#steddie #stranger things #steve is fabulous #rockstar eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #unfinished wip turned into a oneshot #drag #steve harrington queen of my heart

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abbysimsfun · 4 months ago

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Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 69 (More Spooky Party Time!)

With the party still going strong, Conrad greeted Bella with a smile. "Mrs. Goth, thanks for coming."

"I love a good Spooky Day party. Thanks for the invitation."

"I wanted to apologize for how uptight I was the day Heather went...travelling in your attic."

"Grimmie told me you two called him for a chat. I'd say I hate to say I told you so, but I don't hate to say it at all."

"I'm coming around to some of these ideas you think are completely normal, but-"

"There's nothing normal about them, and that's what interests me."

Conrad smiled. "All my life I've been smacked by reality, but that night at your seance table was the first time I've ever really experienced the paranormal. It freaked me out."

"Have you never even seen a ghost?"

He shook his head. "Just Heather's cat. I mean, thinking I hear them is another story..."

Bella eyed him sympathetically. "You don't have to wait for the Ambrosia Society to send you back to see the mentors, you know. You could always go on your own, if you're curious. I haven't put the table away in the attic yet, and it's always nice when you and Heather come by."

"Thanks Mrs. Goth. I'll think about it."

"Anytime, Detective Gordon. My paranormal exploration days are long past me, but the world beyond our own is full of strange mysteries I believe should be shared. Anything you want to know, all you need to do is ask." She smiled, taking a cookie as she stood from the table. She passed Heather on her way to the living room. "Wonderful party, dear. And your costume is fabulous!"

Heather grabbed a plate of leftover spaghetti with 'Dulce sauce' (her second that same day!) and joined Conrad and her parents at the kitchen table. "River told us what you two went through recently," her mother said. "We just wanted to let you both know we're sorry."

"It's okay, Mrs. Nesbitt. We've been to a grief counselor and I've really made a lot of progress on some things I've dealt with since the deaths of my parents. Heather's a lot stronger than me."

"I never had to go through what you went through. My parents did, though. When my mother was seven, her grandmother died and she grew up in foster care."

"Have you ever wondered about them?" asked Conrad. "What they might have done, had they lived?"

Daisy nodded. "When I was younger, absolutely. But then I met Neal and we had four amazing kids, and I wasn't looking for my family anymore. I had them."

Neal smiled at his wife. "Our life together has been pretty fantastic. Now we've got grandkids and in-laws coming out of our ears, and I found my brother again. I never thought I could have all this when my parents died."

"I love the way that sounds, and I want that," he said. Heather listened, waiting for the but. This time, he stopped short, and they both smiled.

Guests finally began to leave around one in the morning. Hazel and Nicola fell asleep upstairs, and Conrad fell asleep quickly in the bedroom, but Heather tidied a few dishes and summoned Grim again.

They met outside under a clear sky full of stars. "When he talked about having a family tonight, he didn't say he wasn't ready. I don't want to assume what it does mean, but I think he's working through his parents' death and I wanted to thank you for helping us this morning."

"You're welcome. Do you know how many people have bothered to summon me just to say thank you? Putting on all these robes and chains is a pain in my hollow neck, but it's worth it just to hear a bit of gratitude."

"Bella Goth was right about you, Grim. I'm sure we'll be seeing each other again soon, and not for any reaping."

Grim gave a respectful nod before slamming his white staff to the dirt and disappearing out of sight. Heather showered and got into bed, snuggling close and waking Conrad from a light sleep. "I know I'm out of uniform, but if you still need me to deliver your mail..."

Heather grinned, capping off a successful party with Conrad under their brand new bedcovers, identical to the ones that burned earlier that day. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

#sims 4 #sims 4 gameplay #sims 4 screenshots #sims 4 legacy #sims in bloom #ts4 #ts4 gameplay #ts4 legacy #ts4 screenshots #sims 4 story #ts4 story #legacy challenge #sims legacy #ts4 legacy challenge #gen 2 #brindleton bay #spooky day #bella goth #reapers rewards

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light-yaers · 1 year ago

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Take Care: Chapter Twelve

Fic Masterpost | AO3 | Chapter List

Warnings: swearing, eventual smut, emotional themes.

A/N: sorry this took so long. but it's here now. HAPPY CHRISTMAS BITCHES!

Word Count: 10k+

Chapter Twelve:

“Darling!” Rebecca called as you and Roy approached the restaurant. She stood outside next to a shorter man (obviously), who could only be John Wingsnight.

Roy stayed back as you sped forward, stretching out your arms for an embrace until you and Rebecca finally met in the middle. “Why does Roy look more pissed off than usual?” Rebecca whispered in your ear quickly, as the men shook hands beside you awkwardly.

“Don’t ask,” you whispered back, but she only squeezed you harder in response. “I’ll tell you later,” you added painfully.

“Fine,” she muttered quickly, before the two of you finally parted. She put on a stellar smile. “Shall we head inside?” You nodded, and the four of you entered the restaurant together.

John reached the table first, and slid a chair out for Rebecca. She took it graciously, before he turned to look at you. “It’s so nice to finally meet some of Rebecca’s good friends,” he said. He sounded posh– Richmond posh. You smiled as nicely as you could, but Roy’s presence close behind you was practically burning a hole through your skin.

You went to grab a seat opposite Rebecca, but was abruptly cut off by Roy. He reached out his arm and slid out the chair before you could. You hit his eye as he waited for you to sit down, and when you did, you felt so overexposed that you could hardly stand it.

“Thank you,” you said quietly, as Roy tucked you in safely. He growled gently in response, and the four of you settled in for a long fucking night.

As soon as you could, drinks were ordered in excess. Small talk ensued, but it was made up mostly of Rebecca whittling on about your past placement at the club, and all of the drama that happened during your year there. Next to you, Roy stayed silent unless spoken to. It was clear he wasn’t thrilled about this, but even more so after the ordeal on the drive over.

Truth be told, as much as you’d been looking forward to this evening, you wanted nothing more than to pack it in and be alone with Roy. You needed to address so much, and talk honestly for once in your fucking lives. That was only made more difficult when John piped in with new questions. As soon as she could, Rebecca brought up your article from the Independent.

“Oh, fantastic!” John exclaimed in response. “I read that article, by the way– the one about you, Roy.” Roy tried and failed to look enthusiastic, as John turned to you. “Brilliantly written, you absolutely deserved to win.”

You smiled. “Thank you, that’s kind of you to say.”

“So, is that how this happened?” John asked, pointing at you and Roy playfully.

You and Roy turned to each other at the same time. Both of you looked like deers in headlights, as the entire point of your double-date lie was finally put to the test.

“Yes,” you said quickly. “Yes, exactly.” Stupidly, idiotically, you’d never fucking thought about what story you’d have to explain; the story of how you started dating. Roy looked too relaxed for your liking, so you decided to involve him. “Isn’t that right, Roy?”

Roy shot daggers at you immediately, but they were only perceived by you. He recomposed himself as he turned to Rebecca and John, but before a single word left his mouth, his hand found yours upon the table top. You inhaled deeply as his fingers wrapped around your own.

“She bugged me so much about the fucking article that it was inevitable,” he said lowly. “Isn’t that right, babe?”

John laughed heartily, raising his glass at Roy happily. Rebecca choked on her starter. You’d momentarily stopped thinking as soon as Roy’s hand had touched yours, and had now gone temporarily blind from him calling you babe.

Roy squeezed your hand gently, and your senses refreshed like lightning. “Y-yes,” you stuttered quickly. “Totally inevitable.”

“Well, how delightful,” John said sweetly, before he turned towards Rebecca. “Rebecca speaks very highly of you, I’ve found.”

“I’d bloody hope so,” you let out, getting rid of some of your pent up anxiety. Rebecca laughed, fully recovered from her choking fit. Roy’s fingers were still latched over yours, and you found yourself not hating it after the initial shock.

“And you, Roy!” John continued. “Congrats on the pundit gig, by the way.”

“John is a big football fan,” Rebecca said, and John nodded enthusiastically.

“Here we fucking go,” Roy growled under his breath. You rearranged your fingers quickly, so that you could squeeze his hand reassuringly. He turned to you gently, flicking his eyes over your encouraging face.

You knew this entire night was out of his comfort zone, including the whole fake dating ordeal on top. Getting Roy out to dinner like this was hard enough as it was, but adding this play-pretend must have had him reeling. It was tough for you, as well, especially after your almost confession in the car beforehand. All the two of you had to do was hold on for dear life for another few hours, and then it’d be over.

“It was a massive coincidence, actually,” you piped up suddenly, turning back to John and Rebecca. “I’d had this small nagging voice in my head that kept saying how good a pundit Roy could be, enough for me to annoy him over text, even. Then, a few weeks later, he was on the telly! It was weird, honestly.”

“That wasn’t a fucking coincidence,” Roy said sternly. “I’d had those Sky producers down my throat for a month, but only bothered to reply after you mentioned what a good idea it was.”

You squinted at him, shocked. “What?”

“I became a pundit because of you.”

Rebecca’s mouth upturned into a sly smile. John caught her eye in confusion, but still looked happy to simply be there– probably because he was in Roy’s presence. You struggled to find the right words to say, as your mind catapulted all your thoughts to ricochet off your skull.

The only word you could physically get out was “Oh.” Your wide eyed stare stayed on Roy for a few seconds more, until you quickly looked at the table, trying to compute what you’d just been told. “Right.” You added.

“You were right, too,” Rebecca said gently, and you caught her eye. “Roy does make a rather entertaining pundit.”

“And that’s an understatement,” John added, cheesing from ear to ear.

“Yes, he does,” you said, agreeing with Rebecca, but still hesitating over your muddled thoughts. “Will you excuse me for a moment? That wine has gone to my head,” you let out, alongside a breathy laugh to break the tension.

Roy fingers separated from yours, and as you walked to the bathroom, you felt utterly alone. Maybe it was the lack of his touch, just in those initial seconds after having it. Maybe it was the realisation that once again he’d done something that you’d suggested, just for you. There was no reason for you to get mad about it. Being a pundit was more than the article; it was more public, more personal, more professional. He wouldn’t have done it all unless he’d accepted it himself, and that was the truth of it.

Still, hearing that you’d been his reason for going ahead with the gig was warming. As you looked at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, your eyes were glassy. Your cheeks felt hot, and it wasn’t just from the wine. Your fingers were clammy, not only from your nerves, but from having someone hold them so tightly for the last ten minutes– all of these factors added up to be caused by one man only; Roy fucking Kent.

He was so different to you. So stubborn, so grumpy, so unapproachable, yet it had been so easy for you to cut through his layer of steel and get to the other side of his personality. Gentle, caring, and so unapologetically honest that you could hardly believe it. From the way Keeley and Rebecca– even the fucking football team, too– had reacted when Roy had steadily started opening up to you, you knew this wasn’t an ordinary occurrance. They knew him from a day to day perspective, whereas your knowing had transcended the walls of the Dogtrack after only a few months around each other.

Innately, a switch flicked on in your brain. It’d been over a year of this dynamic. Even including those three months of silence, you’d still thought of each other on a daily basis. Something had to give, and that something was you. This was your opportunity to make yourself abundantly clear– this stupid, idiotic fake dating situation. This was the trial shift, and you just had to show up.

You washed your hands quickly, and as you did it cemented this shift within you. As you opened the door to the bathroom and emerged back into the restaurant, you held your head high. You walked in your heels like you’d been walking in them your entire life, and when you saw the back of Roy’s head, your heart swelled.

As sat back down at the table, and impulsively leaned into Roy. He sensed you, and changed his posture to accommodate your own. “Sorry about that,” you said, laughing at yourself slightly. “It’s not often that I drink wine anymore.”

“Get a different drink if you want, darling,” Rebecca said.

“I think I will,” you agreed, before you took the plunge. Gently, you leaned into Roy, clinging onto his bicep softly. “When the waitress comes around again can you grab her for me, please?” you asked.

Roy tensed slightly beneath your touch, but you could feel him relax as he peered into your eyes. “Alright,” he said lowly. “Beer?” he asked.

You nodded with a smile. It was sweet that he knew exactly what you wanted.

Your main courses were uneventful, but tense. You ate in happy splendour, chatting about whatever— you wouldn’t be able to recount the conversation in any state, purely because you were hyper aware of Roy next to you the entire time. Rebecca’s side-eye stares tickled your bare skin. John’s obliviousness kept you grounded.

It was funny, wasn’t it? The moment that you and Roy had permission to fully jump, to indulge, you found yourselves in a situation where touching the other felt incredibly odd. As much as this entire situation was exciting for both of you, you found yourself focusing on the fact this was all fake– the relationship, the meal, and… the first time you allowed yourself to feel.

Every hand touch and shoulder bump was being watched clearly. Was it all real if this double date was a lie? Was it all real even if you and Roy weren’t actually together?

“Darling,” Rebecca said softly, and you almost jumped out of your skin when you came back to reality. You’d utterly zoned out to the point where you hadn’t even noticed your dessert was already in front of you. “Are you alright?” she whispered across the table.

You swallowed uncomfortably. “Yes,” you said quickly, before picking up your fork. “Sorry.”

“So,” John started, chewing on a mouthful of praline. “Pluto Press, right?”

Your eyes widened, your heart plummeted into your stomach. You’d been avoiding talking about your job with anyone for the past few months. You swallowed, and put on a smile in panic. “That’s the one,” you said, but the awkwardness practically seeped out of you.

“What’s it like in publishing? I’ve always been curious,” John asked, leaning in slightly, so that you couldn’t fucking escape.

“It’s… well, it’s…” You were hyper aware of Rebecca sitting opposite you, and Roy sat to your left. You felt the ex-football Captain stiffen next to you. Concern pooled between you, and he shifted himself to face you more so, curiosity prevalent on his brow.

You looked up at him, lost for words. Innately, you let yourself crumble. Perhaps it was time to tell them that you had your reservations about work. You sucked in a breath. “At first, it was a dream,” you said, turning to John with a faint smile. “I suppose it always is when it comes to the job you’ve wanted since you were a kid.” You turned to Roy again, meeting his eye. “Right?” you whispered.

Roy nodded gently before you. He had football on his mind, no doubt. You could see it in his gaze, you could sense him envisioning the green of the Dogtrack.

“A few months down the line, though…” you started, and gently turned to Rebecca. She was looking at you with a signature arched eyebrow, waiting for you to spill your guts. “It’s been… different, I suppose.”

“Different?” Rebecca questioned.

Roy twisted towards you even more. “Different how?”

Different, as in, I fucking hate it. That’s what you wanted to say, but saying that to the two people who gave you the opportunity to have the position? Hell fucking no.

You opened your mouth, trying to decide upon what words to use, but you never got the chance to say them. A woman sidled up to Roy and threw you all from your conversation. Rebecca’s stare snapped upon her like a lethal panther. Roy perked a brow up at her, a subtly seething look on his face.

“I’m so sorry to interrupt,” she said, and her Chelsea or Kensington accent was the first thing you noticed. “I just had to come over or I’d hate myself for it. You’re Roy Kent, aren’t you?” She was beautiful in a way that reminded you of the girls who used to bully you in school– in your mind, this was exactly what some of them would have grown up to look like. Blonde, big-boobed, high-fashioned, rich.

Your face dropped immediately, overcome by a feeling you’d never actually experienced before. Your chest felt tight, your fists balled in your lap, your shoulders squared off defensively. You turned to Rebecca, and the frown on her face only added to the grim feeling you held inside.

Roy growled at the woman in response, not just as confirmation, but definitely from annoyance. Who the hell interrupted someone during dinner? At a fucking restaurant?

She ignored his hostility, instead opting to jump up and down abruptly. “Oh! I knew it. My father and brother love you, especially from your Chelsea days. Can I…” she said. As she did, she leant in even closer, bridging the gap between her and Roy, until he was forced to look up at an almost ninety degree angle. “Can I get a photo?”

Your stomach dropped at the shift in her tone of voice. She was flirting. Suddenly, the feeling inside you made perfect fucking sense–

Jealousy. You were jealous.

Rebecca went to protest first, but you beat her to it. You leaned forward, and wrapped your fingers around Roy’s bicep defensively. “Excuse me,” you said strongly. “We’re in the middle of a meal, and you’re very much interrupting us.”

Roy’s muscles relaxed beneath your grip, and you only took that as a sign to hold your ground. The woman before you was taken aback, obviously not used to mere commoners having a pop at her about her wrong behaviour. She let out a nervous laugh, tilting back slightly as she peered down at you from above. Instinctively, you caught her eye and glared– glared for your damn life.

“Uh.” The noise burst from her lips like a breath she hadn’t meant to exhale. Like a crack in her exterior. “I’m sorry– what are you supposed to be?”

You saw red, and stood impulsively. You’d never wanted to throw a punch more in your life, nor had you ever had the desire to do so in front of a restaurant full of people, but something entirely new had come over you– and Roy was at the centre of it.

You pointed at her as soon as you were at her eye level, leaning over Roy beneath you. “Listen here, you little–”

“Alright!” Roy burst from beneath you, putting himself between you and the blonde. His arm twisted behind him and found your waist easily. He pulled you into his back, erecting himself as a literal human shield, in every sense. “That’s fucking enough of that,” he muttered, looking the blonde in the eyes.

Suddenly, she switched back to something more honeyed. She puffed her chest out, showing off her cleavage even more so, and batted her mink eyelashes at Roy above her. He bought none of it, of course. It was Roy, and he could always see the bad in people. Mostly, it was a hindrance, but sometimes… It worked.

“I’ll give you a photo to fuck off,” he said candidly.

You scowled behind Roy, trying to adjust yourself to the point where you weren’t utterly flush against the wool of his jumper. The blonde made a guttural noise of offence, however, which definitely pleased you somewhere deep inside.

“God, don’t fucking bother then,” she squeaked at Roy. You thought that was the end of it, until more drivel fell from her lips. “You need to keep your dog on a leash.”

You froze, but not from what she’d just said. You froze, because Roy’s blood immediately turned to ice. You felt the muscles in his back contracting, trying and failing to shut down his inevitable jump to anger. You could imagine the robotic expression on his face, the sharpness of his jaw, the straightness of his eyebrows.

This was Roy Kent when he was too angry to function. This was Roy Kent from the fucking football pitch.

Your gut lurched when his grip on your waist loosened, and you knew you had to intervene. Quickly, you slipped beneath Roy’s arm and shoved yourself between him and the blonde. You leaned back against Roy’s chest forcefully, and to no surprise he’d planted himself to the ground like a fucking tree. The blonde crossed her arms, shooting you with a shitty looking smirk that was supposed to make you feel hard done by, but you actually didn’t care.

You just wanted her to leave Roy alone.

“I think it’s time for you to leave now,” you said calmly. “Before you embarrass yourself even more.” You softened your expression, but not by much. The blonde faltered subtly, dropping her arms to her sides as she became self-conscious of how many stares in her direction littered the restaurant.

“I was going already,” she said, flustered, but not before she caught Roy’s eye again. “You footballers are always too fucking complicated.”

You and Roy watched her clip away in her heels, muttering to herself the entire way back to her table. A tense silence filtered across the restaurant, until all of a sudden, the hubbub came back. People went back to their meals, your heart settled in your chest, and Roy– his hand found yours instantly. You turned back to the table, shivering with every swipe he gave your knuckles, and caught Rebecca’s eye.

You’d almost forgot her and John were still fucking here.

Rebecca cleared her throat. “Shall we get the bill?”

John kissed Rebecca goodbye, but not after shaking Roy’s hand and holding onto his wrist for just a moment too long. You let out a pent up breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding, as your party of four decreased to three. Rebecca turned back to you and Roy with an expectant face.

“So?” she said, eyes gleaming.

You hunched your shoulders up to your ears and smiled awkwardly. “He’s… nice!” you said, and for once you couldn’t find any other word to describe someone, but you tried your best. “He’s personable, and financially stable…” you trailed off.

“But?” Rebecca asked, sensing some trepidation.

“Well,” you started, turning to Roy for back-up.

He let out a sigh, growling subtly. “He’s fine!” he exclaimed. “And fine is good, fine is safe, but I guess it all comes down to why the fuck someone like that deserves you.” He said strongly. “You deserve someone who makes you feel like you’ve been been struck by fucking lightning.”

Rebecca and your speechlessness was apparent, as the two of you glued your eyes onto Roy. You could feel him buzzing next to you, and heat radiated off him in waves.

“Don’t you dare settle for fine, just because it’s easy.” Roy scrunched his face passionately, before clocking eyes with you next to him. His face softened, and his expression resorted back to something more unbothered. “Or do,” he backtracked. “Do whatever you want.”

He shrugged, and you scoffed abruptly, bringing a hand to your mouth to stop yourself from chuckling more. Rebecca was taken aback. She had this golden look on her face that you could relate to heavily. You’d had that look a thousand times before, when Roy had done something to completely subvert your expectations. He was right, though, as much as Rebecca probably wanted to object. He was right, and you were glad that he’d said it the way it should be.

The sound of Rebecca’s heels disappeared into the distance, as you and Roy walked back along the river. It was cold. The temperature had dropped profusely as November set in, and you could see your breath every time you managed to exhale. That was just it– breathing around Roy tonight had become some sort of manual chore, alongside every other normal function that you could usually do in a heartbeat.

Unsaid words flickered between the two of you as you continued strolling; past Roy’s Jeep, further down river, until you reached the small side streets around Richmond Green. It was a comfortable silence, but far from a calm one. You and Roy had thoughts so loud that it was a miracle you couldn’t decipher the chatter in each other’s brains.

Thinking back to the car ride, the stares, the feeling in your gut, all of it– you knew something had to be said. But, you simply didn’t know how to put it all into words. Perhaps Roy was suffering the same, as his mouth stayed glued shut.

Approaching the other side of the green, your eyes settled on the Crown and Anchor. Ted and Beard’s stomping ground was lively, and you slowed down to peer through the windows. Twinkling lights rounded each frame, shining onto the people inside. Beers were half drunk, locals chattered and chortled, and Mae stood in her rightful place behind the bar.

You smiled. “I wonder if Ted and Beard are in.” Your heart felt warm.

“Ted lives just up there,” Roy said, pointing to a side street beyond the pub. “He made me tea, at the end of last season.”

“Hm,” you said. “That was before the last game, wasn’t it?”

Roy nodded next to you slowly. “Stopped the twat from getting hit by a cab. He’d had one too many pints.”

You let out a gentle breath, smiling as you pictured the scene. Neither of you made an attempt to walk inside, or further down the road. You simply stayed glued to your spots, and you thought you knew why. This was nice. Stood beside one another, recovering from that tension you’d both had at the restaurant. But– this was safe. You were both avoiding addressing what you truly wanted to;

What would come of this?

You sucked in a sharp breath, feeling that you had to pull off the bandaid. “Listen…” You turned to face him. “Roy–”

“Don’t,” he said quickly, lowly. “I know what you’re gonna say.”

You swallowed away your words. “Okay.”

Roy’s chest expanded as he sucked in as much air as he possibly could, and let it all out of his nose. He smiled. “I like this,” he croaked. “I like things the way they are.” Your heart sunk ever so slightly, but you were thankful he wasn’t yet finished, so you didn’t have to speak. “I like you and me hanging out, and talking football, and just– I don’t fucking know– this.”

You didn’t understand him fully, and you had a feeling that Roy didn’t understand himself either. Neither of you knew what you wanted precisely, and that was easy to see.

Panic set in on Roy’s face. “I don’t know how to explain it. I just– I just fucking–” You stopped him by placing a gentle hand on his chest.

You attempted to rationalise what he was saying. Maybe this was for the best. Maybe keeping things like this, platonic, friendly, whatever the fuck word you could use, was for the best. It was just like that blonde girl back at the restaurant had said; footballers were complicated, and you didn’t like complicated, even if it was with Roy.

“I do, too,” you said, reassuring him. “Like this, I mean. I like this, too.” You smiled, but it felt sad.

Roy exhaled softly, finally landing on words you could both understand. “I fuck things up, sometimes,” he said lowly. “I don’t want to fuck up things with you.”

An abundance of thoughts trickled from the deep crevices of your brain. Ones that wanted to yell at Roy to let himself be happy, to let himself do things that he wanted, to not hold himself back. The look on his face showed you just how hard he’d thought about it all. It was the same look that had graced his face for most of the meal– he’d been thinking about this conversation all night.

You had, too. You’d adopted the psyche of someone who knew that she wanted this. Him. And you’d thought that Roy had wanted the same thing, too, considering the immense build up you’d both experienced. You were certain you hadn’t imagined it, certain that he was ready to give in alongside you, but evidently…

You’d been wrong.

And being wrong was okay, especially when your relationship with Roy was on the line.

You shrugged away the question in your brain of how a fake date, that lasted less than three hours, had utterly changed his mind after months. You bit away the urge to ask him why. Roy’s thoughts weren’t yours to divulge; they were his, and he’d made up his mind. That was something you had to take with grace.

“Okay,” you whispered. It hurt to say, it hurt to accept, but you weren’t about to become someone that got angry when someone you liked denied you. You took a small step back, and smiled in an attempt to hide how gutted you felt. “Okay, Roy,” you said, stronger this time. It cemented it all.

It was done, and you had to be okay with it, or risk losing him altogether.

As the end of November hit, Roy became used to his routine. He’d film Soccer Saturday four days a week live, and one day a week for pre recorded segments that were played during highlights. He got up at seven in the morning, sharp, sometimes going for a run when it wasn’t too blisteringly cold, but those mornings had been few and far between as temperatures hit zero. Winter hadn’t yet arrived, but it bloody felt like it.

He’d have a coffee, and don his suit, before jumping his Jeep to the studio. On the way, a mere two minutes into his drive, he’d pass your flat. It was customary for him to glance to the left as he passed, always, but the thoughts that hit him alongside were something he wished would stop.

That look on your face, the one from that night– it haunted him. You haunted him.

Through every fault of his own, he was grief stricken. If you’d asked Roy a few weeks before the meal if he was ready for this, for you, for what could be, he wouldn’t have hesitated to say yes. But that night, everything had shifted for him.

The way Rebecca had glanced between you and him made his gut coil, and he knew it was bloody obvious that you both had shared affections. The feeling that you both harboured could’ve been seen from fucking space, he’d bet. But, then it all went downhill. That blonde girl, the one with the giant rack, and even bigger nose to butt in your evening together, had stumped him.

Up until that moment, Roy was accustomed to knowing when his anger would jump out. He could feel it coming on, sense it raging within him, but when she’d talked down to the likes of you– it had felt uncontrollable. Roy was a violent man; he was no stranger to throwing a punch to someone who deserved it, and he was content living that way. Just not around you. He didn’t like that side of him when you were near. He didn’t want to fight or kick or punch his way out of an uncomfortable situation when you were next to him.

That, and Roy had felt the unmistakable struggle of something else for practically half his life. It was nagging, and made his chest hurt. Those thoughts of self-loathing, of exposure, of isolation, were something so ingrained that he’d never thought they would be a problem when it came to actually being happy. But, they were. They really fucking were.

The truth was, Roy Kent didn’t want to drag you– marvellous, intelligent, too-good-for-him you– into his nightmare of a life. Full of uncertainty, or unfulfilled self-worth, of all of it.

So, that was that.

You continued working, but reluctantly. Thoughts of Roy pelted your mind, utterly impossible to ignore. You didn’t have time to ponder the possibility of leaving Pluto Press, or doing something different, not when your workload was stacked high. The beginning of December brought buzz about Christmas, but you hardly felt festive. Roy was working hard over at Sky, as were the boys at Richmond. You still kept up with them all, and getting updates from Sam was practically routine now.

As you jumped off the tube at Richmond after a busy week, your phone buzzed to reveal another text from Sam, but what he’d written made you stop in your tracks.

Forgot to tell you. Jamie Tartt is back. He started training again today.

You flashed back to the ordeal from a few months prior, when Sam had stormed off the pitch after seeing Ted at the pub with the ex-Man City superstar. You knew that Ted would have made it clear about bringing Tartt back to the guys, but that didn’t stop you from feeling uncertain. You wanted to think that Jamie had turned a new leaf, but your gut still coiled at the thought of him back at the club.

Perhaps you were insane, or over-tired, or still reeling after your fake date, but you changed your course home and headed for the Dogtrack without hesitation. Tartt needed to know what was what, and you didn’t care being the person to do that. You imagined it would be harder for Ted to do so, or the guys themselves after all that he’d done last season.

You stormed through the doors off the car park, navigating the corridors down to the lower level, until you stomped your way through the tunnel to the pitch. You launched the door open quickly, not stopping to wave off the confused stares from Ted, Beard and Nate at the edge of the pitch. The guys ran around on the grass, finishing up their final game of their practice. You cut it all short as you propelled your way onto the cold, damp ground. Isaac was the first to stop and stare, whacking Colin on his back to make him aware of your presence too. The trickle of twenty pairs of eyes headed your way immediately, as you cut across Dani and Bumbercatch without a word, headed for one player in particular: number nine, Jamie fucking Tartt.

“Hey!” you exclaimed to him, and a handful of players flinched.

Jamie whipped his stare away from the ball at his feet, and slowed to a confused stop as you approached him. “Hey…” he said smally, utterly boggled at your presence. You stopped in front of him, brows furrowed sternly, as you tried to adopt Roy’s resting bitch face. “What’re you–?”

You cut him off by jabbing your pointer finger into his chest. He stepped back once, and rubbed the spot you’d hit him in. “You,” you said strongly.

Jamie’s face warped into concern. “Me?” he said, and his Mancunian accent hit your ears for the first time in several months. You prepared yourself, and even further blocked out the questioning looks that littered the pitch.

“See this team?” You gestured to the guys quickly. “They’ve worked really fucking hard this season, after the relegation.”

“Okay?” Jamie squeaked out.

“I’m not questioning Ted’s decision to bring you back,” you continued, holding your ground. “But, know this, Tartt.” You said his name like Roy would, with subtle disdain, with a strength behind it that communicated you were serious. “Being back here is a privilege, not a right, and you need to know that.”

Jamie’s confusion disappeared instantly. His face softened, and was replaced with something resembling guilt. It was a look you’d never seen him wear before, but one that you welcomed in that moment. He needed to know that things wouldn’t be like last time. He needed to know that people like you gave a shit.

Jamie placed his hands on his hips, and nodded at the ground. “Okay,” he said lowly, before meeting your eye. You raised your brows at him, perhaps in warning. He breathed out quickly. “This is a privilege, not a right,” he repeated to you.

“Good.” You nodded, and smiled just a little. “Welcome back.”

Tartt nodded at you in acknowledgement, and you stepped back to show you were done. The guys shuffled behind you, muttering to themselves as you swivelled on your heels and headed back the way you came. When you looked at the various faces around you, Sam was the only one who was properly smiling. He knew you’d done it for him, for all of them.

Beard hit Ted’s shoulder quickly, and the Texan jumped forward abruptly, until he walked beside you. “All okay, Writer?” he asked, and you smiled wider.

“Sorry for the interruption.”

“Oh, no bother,” Ted said. “Though, perhaps a heads up would have been appreciated.”

You laughed gently. “Noted. Won’t happen again, Coach, I promise.”

Ted laid his hand on your shoulder, and his confused expression turned to gold. “It’s good to see you.”

“You, too,” you said softly.

“Got any holiday plans?” Ted asked, as the two of you reached the edge of the pitch. You turned back to the guys and practice resumed.

You shook your head. “Not really. With how busy the office is around Christmas, there’s no point in me going home for it. I’ll probably have to work between Christmas and the New Year.”

Ted hummed in understanding. “Same as us, for sure. We’ve got a match on Boxing Day.”

You hummed in response, as yourself and Ted looked slightly sunken after your small catch up. You’d always spent Christmas with your family, so it would be odd not doing so this year. You tried to think of the perks, though– a pub roast on the day, a drink with Mae at the bar, and an early night before the match and your inevitable workload afterwards.

Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad. At least, that’s what you were telling to yourself.

“Hey!” Sam called from the pitch, jogging over to you and Ted cheerily. “If you have no plans for Christmas day, Mr Higgins is hosting all of Richmond's overseas players. I know that a good few of us are going this year.” Sam smiled, and you couldn’t help but smile back.

“Do you reckon it would be okay for me to join?” you asked.

Sam shrugged. “You are a part of Richmond, and you are away from your home. I do not see why not.”

“Very good point well made, Sam,” Ted said softly. Your heart swelled in your chest.

“Okay.” You nodded. “I’ll come.”

Sam leaned forward and gently grabbed your forearm, squeezing slightly as his fingers coiled around you. He got in close to you. “Thank you,” he whispered, then pulled back and sent you a knowing look. “You are too good to us.” You scoffed to yourself, just from a lack of how to react.

As Sam jumped back and headed towards the team, he sent you one final glowing review from home: “We all miss you around here!” he exclaimed, before fully rejoining the guys.

You gulped back your feelings, the hurt, the want, all of it. If you’d allowed yourself to speak back, all your walls would have crumbled instantly. You would have found yourself immediately saying Please let me come back.

Please, let me come home.

On Saturday afternoon, your phone was ringing off the hook. Not that you could do anything about it, as you found yourself in an altercation with the newly moved-in upstairs neighbour. For days on end, all you’d heard was stomp stomp stomp from above. It was so frequent and so loud that you’d been rudely awoken in the early hours of the morning on multiple occasions.

You were trying this thing where you were being stronger. You were trying this thing where you wouldn’t let people give you shit that you didn’t ask for, nor deserve. When you thought about it in depth, you were actually just trying to be more like Roy.

As you slammed your front door shut, you sighed deeply. The footsteps from upstairs had gone uncharacteristically quiet, so perhaps you’d actually got through to them. In the kitchen, your phone continued to buzz incessantly. You bound over and were met with something that should have instilled the fear of God into your bones: over ten missed calls, and multiple texts from yours truly, Roy fucking Kent.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” you muttered to yourself, as you scrolled through the messages.

OI!

Pick up the fucking phone.

You’re not gonna believe this shit.

I’m going on the air in two minutes, hurry the fuck up.

Guess you’ll just have to watch my mug talk about it on TV.

All messages were sent in a five minute period, not two minutes before. His last call had been one you’d missed by a mere minute. He’d be on Soccer Saturday by now, so you’d just have to see what the fuck was up as it aired.

When the first advert break hit, you were smiling from smugness. Not that there was any competition between you and Roy when it came to football– he would obviously win– but this time around you felt superior.

It was about Jamie’s return to Richmond. All that Roy had been calling and messaging you about was Ted bringing the superstar back to the team, and guess what? You’d fucking found out before him.

During the break, your phone inevitably rang again. You picked it up swiftly, and didn’t even bother talking. Roy growled on the other end. “Did you fucking watch it?” he asked.

“Mhmm,” you hummed in response, still smiling to yourself.

Roy went silent for just a second too long, and you could hear the cogs whirring in his head. “You already fucking knew, didn’t you?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed again, fully smiling now.

“For fucks sake!” he exclaimed. “I should have known your fucking fanbase would have spilled.”

“Sam told me yesterday,” you said. “I actually– well, I went to the Dogtrack after he told me.”

“Oh?” Roy questioned.

“I may have let my emotions get the better of me.”

“Did you give that little twat what for?”

You squished the features on your face together, thinking back to your abrupt arrival and yelling match on the pitch. “Yes…”

Roy paused, and your heart stalled. “Good girl,” he said.

You swallowed away the visceral reaction that reverberated through your chest, but still let out a small choking sound. You played it off as a cough, before you quickly changed the subject. “So, are you doing anything for Christmas?”

“I’ve got Phoebe. We’re gonna attempt to watch all the Harry Potter films in one day. It might get fucking ugly.” Roy paused again, and you had this horrible feeling he was about to– “Want to join us?”

You clamped your eyes shut. Your heart plummeted into your gut. If he’d asked you this a few weeks back, before the conversation, before the date, before all of it, you wouldn’t have hesitated to say yes. Now, even if you’d wanted to go, you wouldn’t be able to after agreeing to join the guys at the Higgins household. But that was just it– after facing the music, and realising that Roy didn’t want anything more, you knew it would be easier for your heart if you stayed away from moments like that.

Moments where it was you and him, him and you.

“Oh, Roy,” you let out. “That sounds fantastic, really, but I’ve already got plans with the team. I’m sorry.”

Roy knew it was a long shot. He knew you could’ve been going home to see family, but knowing that you were actually staying in Richmond was even more of a blow. You’d be mere miles away with the team, close enough to fucking be around if he tried. Deep down, though, he knew that wasn’t wise.

It was him that stopped all this in the first place– it should be him to uphold the friendship and not blur the lines. It wouldn’t be fair to you otherwise.

“No problem,” Roy said through gritted teeth, trying to sound fine. “Really, it’s fine. You’ve been missing Richmond again, haven’t you?”

You scoffed gently. “You could fucking say that again.” You wanted to ask him the same, as you harboured a feeling that he missed the team just as much as you did, but you didn’t want to ruin the moment.

Roy copied you, letting out a huff of air softly. “Enjoy yourself. You deserve it.” Over the line, the shrill sound of a bell rang and a tannoy yelled Back on air in one minute!

You frowned slightly. “Is that your cue?”

“Yeah, it is,” Roy said lowly.

“You better get back to it.”

“Hm,” Roy growled. Neither one of you wanted to hang up, though. It was plain to fucking see. “I’ll, uh, see you in the new year then.”

“Have a good Christmas, Roy,” you said, almost painfully.

“You too.” Then, he was gone.

Waking up alone on Christmas morning was a new feeling. Your apartment was empty, besides yourself and your haphazard decorations, strewn up quickly in the small amount of time you had at home over the weeks leading up to the big day. It was oddly comforting, though, as you operated to your own schedule and weren’t met with the immediate task of dealing with family for a week straight.

Your phone was full of Christmas messages. Ones from Keeley and Rebecca, from Ted and Beard. One from Nate made you smile, alongside various well-wishes from the local Richmond guys who wouldn’t be in attendance at Higgins’s.

You drank your coffee happily, and got yourself ready without any time pressures. Walking over to the Higgins’ household was refreshing, as snow graced the ground in all its splendour. Richmond around Christmas time was truly magical, and it made you feel equally as reflective about your time in this part of London. A year and a half had gone so quickly.

You passed the Crown and Anchor, and smiled at the buskers singing outside. Last Christmas drifted through the air rightfully, and you shrugged your shoulders up to your ears warmly and watched for a minute.

Down the small side street by the pub, the unmistakable silhouettes of one Ted Lasso and one Rebecca Welton strolled alongside one another. You turned to face them, and could hardly believe your luck. Rebecca’s face lit up as soon as she saw you, and her long arms spread wide to encase you in a hug.

“Merry Christmas, darling!” she exclaimed warmly, equally happy about bumping into you.

When you pulled away, she was very quickly replaced by Ted. He wrapped his arms around you instantly. “What a small world, huh!”

“Small indeed,” you chuckled.

Ted parted from you, and your cheeks already hurt from smiling as you looked at them both before you. “Where are you two off to? Ted, I thought you were having Facetime Christmas with Michelle and Henry?”

Ted frowned ever so slightly. “Well, some things in this life are impossible to control, and I think seven year old boys definitely fit in that category.” You smiled at him in understanding. “Lucky for me, though, the Boss was right there when I needed her.”

“We’re off to play Santa,” Rebecca chimed in. “Definitely beats what I did last year. That was right after Rupert… well. You know.” She smiled subtly.

“Are you off to the Higgins’s already?” Ted asked.

You nodded. “I wanted to get there a little early and help Julie if she needed it. Having a house full of footballers doesn’t strike me as something easy.”

“You can sure say that again,” Ted let out. Rebecca chuckled in agreement.

“What about Roy, what’s he up to?” Rebecca asked. You inhaled a sharp breath, but smiled all the same. You ignored the stabbing pain in your chest, and the hoard of butterflies that ravaged through your stomach.

You shrugged. “Don’t know.” It was a lie, but you couldn’t be fucked to explain it all. The invitation, the conversation. You hadn’t told her, nor Keeley, about what had happened after the double date. You didn’t want to.

Ted’s face softened. “Well, we’ll leave you to it, Writer. Have a good one. You deserve it.”

Rebecca encased you in another hug. “You really do,” she whispered. You knew what it meant.

Roy looked at his phone grumpily. Not that looking at his phone un-grumpily was something he did often, but he was extra grumpy as he traversed his Christmas messages that morning. There was nothing from you, no small text, no Facebook post, no message sent by carrier-fucking-pigeon.

“Uncle Roy!” Phoebe called, as the pitter patter of her bare feet erupted down the stairs and straight towards him. She crashed into him as he sat at the dining table, and latched herself onto him. “Can we do presents now?”

Roy took one last glance at his phone, before he dropped it on the table. He turned back to his niece, taking in her puppy-dog eyes and features that looked just like his sister. “Fuck yeah,” he said.

Phoebe squealed at the top of her lungs, before swivelling on her tiny toes and sprinting towards the tree in the living room. Roy watched her go, smiling to himself as she dropped to the floor and started rifling through the wrapped gifts.

It was true that he wished you were here. You’d probably have arrived right about now, wearing something cosy like a lumper jumper, and holding a bottle of prosecco for later. You’d have brought gifts, no doubt. Some Barbie situation for Phoebe, or another thing suited for a seven year old girl. Phoebe would have loved it.

You would have brought something for him, too. Something that you might have been worrying about for a few weeks, concerned that he wouldn’t like it when, in fact, you could have got him a bag of literal dog shit and he would have still said thank you.

Roy swallowed away the images that his head made up. He did it often now, thought of what could have been, what might have been his future, if he wasn’t such a fucking git– or, if you weren’t so fucking perfect that it scared him half to death.

“Julie! I’ve washed the sprouts!” you yelled from the Higgins’ family kitchen. It was a quaint house, and you wondered how the fuck they fit four boys and two grown adults so easily inside.

“Fabulous.” Julie rounded the corner from the living room, holding two empty plates that only held crumbs. “Another plate of mince pies is all gone. I don’t know where those boys put it all!”

The doorbell rang like clockwork, and with every ring brought another team member, or two, or four. You hugged everyone as they filed into the kitchen, dropping coats and bags and another plate of food until every counter and surface was covered in another cultural dish. It was fantastic, and you found yourself feeling more part of a family than you ever had at Christmasses in the past. There was no drama, no political debates, and no screaming matches with your mother. It was blissful.

When Dani arrived, the room erupted in greeting. He approached Julie first and offered her his dish. “Mrs Higgins, I bring you my mother’s punch, and some Mezcal on the side, as she says I am already cheeky enough.”

Julie chuckled. “Oh, thank you, Dani.” She took the punchbowl from him, and lifted the foil. Immediately, the room was met with the metallic scent of alcohol. Tequila was very much already present in this punch. “God– it seems like you’ve already added some to this.”

Dani grinned. “Yes, I may have cheekified this one for you already.”

You chopped carrots a few metres away from them, but turned to Dani with your knife raised. “Someone get me a fucking glass of that.” Sam obliged as you continued chopping, and the group of the guys got themselves a drink too. The festivities were well underway.

“Here you are,” Sam said, placing a glass of punch beside you.

“Thank you, Sam.” You wiped your hands and stopped cooking for just a moment, as he raised his own glass in waiting. You smiled and hovered yours next to his, feeling infinitely warm already. “What are we toasting to?” you asked.

“To you,” he said gently. “Just because you deserve it.”

You chuckled, embarrassed. “Everyone’s been saying that lately,” you said quietly. “I’m not sure why.”

“Because it is our job to remind you of it, especially when you cannot see it yourself.” Sam looked at you softly, and you knew he was being genuine. You clinked glasses, as your eyes welled ever so slightly. It was moments like these that made you feel known, really really known, but also desperately sad.

Why weren’t you with them every fucking day of the week?

Leslie let in another three of the guys, and as they clambered inside a problem arose. “You’ve become quite popular, Leslie!” Julie exclaimed happily.

“Yes, it seems so,” Higgins said. “That’s the problem though, isn’t it. Where are we all going to sit?”

You took the roast potatoes out of the oven and dropped them on the kitchen island. “I think I have an idea to fix that,” you said.

You tucked in your chair last, and looked around the room. A table as long as a train carriage graced the Higgins household, made from the likes of a surfboard and a pool table, amongst other things. Sam sat opposite you, casting you with a golden glow whenever he so much as smiled.

At the end of the table, Higgins stood up. Every pair of eyes in the house shot his way, and he raised his glass to the sky. “Here’s to another successful Christmas in Richmond!”

Sam raised his glass higher than all else. “And here’s to the family Higgins!”

As darkness set in outside, you all ate and were merry in each other’s presence. Spending time with the team was always special to you, but this moment stood out above all the rest. It marked the start of another year in Richmond, and just over six months at Pluto Press. It marked a year and a half of an unlikely friendship between yourself and Roy, and all the rest.

You ate more than your own bodyweight, but to your utter surprise, at the end of the meal your head was spinning. You took a sip of your drink, and stopped to stare at the contents of your glass. It was full to the brim, but had been almost empty just a moment before. Had that been happening all evening?

You glanced at Sam, but the punchbowl was nowhere near him. When you glanced to your left, however– “I think this punch needs just a bit more cheekiness!” Dani exclaimed, as he poured in another few shots of tequila to the mix.

You grabbed his bicep gently. “Dani, have you been filling up my glass all night?” you asked.

Dani nodded happily. “Sí, mi amigo. My mother never believed in empty glasses. A glass cannot be half empty, or half full, it always has to be full full!” he exclaimed. The boys around him cheered and raised their very full glasses.

“Well.” You scoffed abruptly to yourself. “Shit,” you said.

Dani turned back to you, eyes gleaming. “Oh my goodness, are you–?” He mimed tipping back a full glass, and you laughed so loudly that the entire table was alerted to you. Dani grabbed your shoulder fondly. “My friends, it seems our Writer has been– how do you say it in English?”

Bumbercatch leant forward, smiling wildly. “Trollied, bevved, battered–”

Dani stood up abruptly. “She has been trollied, bevved and battered!” He raised his glass high, and clinked it with the guys down his end of the table.

Meanwhile, you were just calming down from an uncontrollable laughing fit. You glanced at your very full glass, and a small part of your brain told you not to drink it. You’d already had far too much, and you knew what you got like when tequila was in your system. On the other hand, you thought of Roy.

And he would have told you to buck the fuck up and drink the whole fucking thing.

You raised your glass to the sky. “To Richmond!”

The guys followed suit, almost knocking over the surfboard table. “To Richmond!”

As you stumbled through town, after declining multiple attempts from the guys to drive you home or get you an Uber, you found yourself heading elsewhere. Not home, to the comfort of your bed and a full loaf of bread for you to soak up all of Dani’s Mezcal. Instead, your legs were taking you the familiar route to Roy’s house. You didn’t know what time it was, but you knew it wasn’t too late for him to be asleep. You were proved right, as you rounded the corner to his drive and saw the living room lights still on, no matter how dimly lit he liked them to be.

As you approached his front door, the small bit of your logical brain that you had left was screaming at you to fuck off and turn around. This was silly, you knew, but you couldn’t fathom going home just yet. Innately, you landed upon yelling surprise! or starting to sing carols in Roy’s face as soon as he opened his door. Somehow, those ideas seemed like the perfect idea, and not at all fucking stupid.

You knocked on the solid oak door strongly, ready to surprise the hell out of him, but when he opened the door and peered down at you– all your words failed.

Roy wore the remnants of a suit, and a fancy one at that. His tie was loose around his neck, and his shirt was slightly untucked at the bottom, but not enough to not notice the belt that sat snug around his waist. You scanned him up and down quickly– or as quickly as you could in this fucking state. To Roy, your checking him out took a solid ten seconds, or longer.

When you met his eyes again, he couldn’t hide the amused smile on his face any longer. “Can I help you?” he asked.

“I may have had a bit to drink,” you said, and as hard as you tried you couldn’t stop your words from slurring. “Dani made punch.”

“Did that punch happen to punch you in the fucking face?” Roy huffed.

You nodded. “Juuust a little bit,” you let out.

Roy moved to the side. “Fucking get in here,” he said warmly.

You struggled to take off your boots, as Roy grabbed a few drinks from the kitchen. He oversaw you in his entryway, shrugging off your coat clumsily. When you stepped onto his floor in your socks, you skidded and let out a squeak.

Roy looked away quickly, trying to harden his expression. Watching you inebriated and without inhibitions was enough to make his gut coil. You stumbled to the kitchen, and leaned against the kitchen island just to keep yourself up-right.

He slid you a beer, which you took without question. “I really don’t need this, do I?” you said, looking to Roy for approval.

“Fuck no,” he said. “But, it’s Christmas.”

“Right you are,” you said. The two of you clinked your bottles together, and you swigged back your beer as if it were water. Roy chuckled so hard that beer frothed out of his mouth.

“Fucking hell, come on.” He grabbed your bicep gently, and led you to the living room.

You practically jumped onto the sofa, and got yourself comfortable immediately. “I love Christmas,” you whittled on. Roy sat on the other side of you, and took a swig of his own beer. “All the lights, and the snow, and everyone together. I just love it.”

“I take it that spending the day with the team was nice?”

“Just the best!” you exclaimed, raising your arms to the sky and almost dropping beer onto Roy’s plush carpet. He took another amused swig, just to distract himself. “How was your day with Phoebe?”

“We got to Order of the Phoenix before she fucking fell asleep,” he said. “She gave it a good shot.”

In the corner of his eye, Roy spotted the last present beneath his tree, and remembered who it was for. As you busied yourself by pulling off the sticker from your bottle, Roy got up swiftly and headed to pick it up. He placed his beer down as he grabbed it, and opened the card on the top.

Just another thing to remind you of home. Roy.

His handwriting was shit, and he knew it, but he thought that now was as good a time as any to give it to you. It was Christmas after all.

“Hey, so. I don’t know what’s got me being such a pussy this year, but I got you something,” he said, keeping his back turned to you. “You don’t have to open it now, just thought it would be nice.” He turned back to you, expecting you to be looking at him with those large, glassy eyes that he’d looked into a thousand fucking times.

Roy relaxed when he saw you, and a bubbly laugh ejected itself from his mouth. You were fast asleep on his sofa, beer balanced precariously on your chest as you breathed rhythmically. Your expression was soft, and your mouth was open, ready to emit some serious snoring. Roy strolled back to you slowly, placing your present on the coffee table. He grabbed the beer from your chest and replaced it by pulling a blanket over you warmly. You didn’t stir, utterly unconscious from such a fun packed day.

He’d never seen you like this– with your guard completely down. He felt privileged to know you felt comfortable enough to feel so at home like this. In his house, completely pissed, next to him.

Something new came over Roy as he made sure you were comfortable, and before he could stop himself, he leant down and placed a kiss on your forehead. Just a peck, and so fast and soft as not to wake you up. “Merry Christmas,” he whispered.

Roy left you on his sofa, at peace, and turned off the lights as he headed for bed himself. On the way up, he thought about the last year and a half of having you in his life. All the ups and the downs, all the confusion and the clarity– and what a time it had fucking been.

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