#for like.... no reason. she was just a very nice older lady and there was another mom ahead of me in line so idk why she picked and chose

[jillsandwhichs]

Joel Miller x Reader Smutshot Collection , Chap 6 , Beer and Sex

Masterlist

Pairing: F!Reader x Joel Miller

Summary: You, Joel and Tommy are at an event in Austin that includes being outdoors, drinking & games! Well, long story short, you and Joel end up heading back to his place for some indoor fun

Status of your guy's relationship in this one shot: Friends

WC: 3.0k

Type: NSFW

Warnings: No outbreak (AU), Usage of alcohol, Buzzed sex, Dirty talk, Making out, Breast play, Living room sex, You ride Joel, Unprotected sex, Choking kink, Clit rubbing, Denial of orgasm, doggy style & you ride him

A/n: Hi! Hope you all enjoy. Please check out my masterlist, there's a lot of stuff there. You can get to know me, you can see the rules of my blog and then you can see all of my fanfictions. You'll be able to find the previous chapters to this fic and upcoming ones. You'll also be able to find my Wattpad & AO3. Comments, reblogs & likes are appreciated. Thank you

You sat back down whilst laughing. Picking your beer back up, you sipped it and put it back down. You haven't drinken in a while, it's nice to finally do it again. You're usually so busy with work that you never have the time or energy to get some alcohol in your system. Your friends Joel and Tommy convinced you to go with them to this event in town though and when you saw there were drinks, you couldn't refuse.

The only reason Joel and Tommy are here is because Maria is hosting this event. She's very big with the city council and hosts events like this from time to time. You don't mind coming. You're actually enjoying yourself. Just a bit ago you were playing darts with Joel and then tether ball with Tommy. You're slightly buzzed too. You can't get full blown drunk though, you need to still drive home.

As you watched some of the younglings run around and play, you felt the weight of the table increase as Joel sat down. It's a muscular man. He weighs a good bit. "Hey." You said in a friendly tone. "Hello." He replied, sipping his tall boy. "You got another one? Shit, don't make me go get another one too, I still have to drive home." You joked, resting your head in your hand. Joel chuckled. "My house is just a few blocks away and I walked here so I ain't even bothered." Joel stated.

That's right, he lives in the suburbs. That's not something you'd expect from a country boy like him. Then again, being country is defined by where you live. "Where did Tommy and Maria go?" "No fuckin' clue," Joel snickered, "Probably fuckin' in the bathroom or something." He teased. You laughed and nodded. "They are newly weds, what can you expect?" You said whilst giggling. Joel nodded. "True that."

Joel was once married, he even had a daughter with the woman. Joel has been single for years now though. Everyone jokes he's out of commission but he just says he's waiting for the right lady. Sarah, his daughter, is almost twelve. She's getting older and cuter by the second. You've met her quite a bit, even babysat her, she's a dear. Joel told you she's with her mother right now, so he's free.

"At least Maria is getting some. It's been a good few months for me." "Months? Try years darlin' and it ain't by choice." You cackled at his words. He isn't wrong. He's celibate from what you've heard. "Sorry Joel, that has to suck." "It sure fuckin' does." He took a shot of his beer. You nodded and sipped off of yours too. The beer was getting warm. Gross. You sighed deeply. "I'm going to go get a new beer, I'll be right back."

You stood up and headed towards the cooler. This cooler was brought by Tommy himself. He decided to provide it for everyone. It's the good stuff too. You bent over and picked up a new one. It was ice cold to the touch. "Hell yeah." You murmured, cracking it open. You're currently wearing a black tank top and short jean shorts. It's hot during the summer, you have to stay cool somehow.

When you turned around, you saw that Joel's eyes were on you. He looked like he was trying to play it off as if he wasn't just checking you out but he totally was. You can't lie, you've checked him out too. Those big muscles and that handsome face are a sight for sore eyes. He's a hottie, admittedly. You giggled and sat back down beside him.

"You were totally just checking me out, weren't you?" You said with a laugh, tipping your beer into your mouth and drinking it all while looking into his brown eyes. He snorted and nodded. "You caught me." Oh, so he was? You don't mind. You knew Joel would be there and that did somewhat take part in what you're currently wearing.

You've always thought he was sexy. The day Tommy introduced you to him you though that. That was only two years ago. Your guy's friendship has been great but you're awfully surprised the two of you haven't hooked up yet. You've definitely flirted and hit on one another. You've even went as far as to having him lick salt off of your stomach before taking a shot of tequila and that had you soaked.

It is very surprising.

"But you can't deny you were checkin' me out earlier." Joel whispered to you with a husky voice. You giggled. "Guilty as charged. You've also caught me red handed." This isn't just the beer talking. You totally were. When he was putting the cooler down earlier, you were indeed gawking at his veiny, buff arms. You giggled and bit your lip while looking up at him. "How drunk are you?" You asked him. "Not drunk enough." You rolled your eyes at his words.

You looked around the area. You still have no clue where Tommy and Maria are. "I'll shoot him a text. Let's get out of here." He whispered to you. You scoffed and breathed in deeply. "Alright." You giggled. He got off of the picnic table and took your hand in his, helping you out of the table as well. You smiled at him. Your guy's hands stayed interlocked. Is this actually going to happen? Are you going to fuck Joel Miller? After all this time?

"My house ain't too far from here." Joel said to you in a deep voice. "I know." You smiled, walking alongside him. You don't feel drunk. You do feel buzzed. It isn't anything you can't handle. You're a heavy weight. It takes you time to really hit the drunk point. The trees around you and Joel brought you two shade, but you're already too hot, in more ways than one. He looked down at you and chuckled. "I can't wait to fuck you." He admitted. You huffed out. "Good." You bit your lip to hold back a big grin.

You glanced over your shoulder. You hope no one will wonder where you two are. You'd rather keep this between you and Joel for now. "Will we come back once we're done?" "We'll have to, I left my goddamn brother back there." You laughed loudly. "That is true... He'll be fine, right?" "He's a grown man, he's fine. Like I said darlin', I'll text him." You nodded. You just don't want them to come looking for the two of you.

You'd rather not be in the middle of getting fucked when Tommy and Maria show up.

-

As Joel opened his front door and locked it behind him, he chuckled and grabbed you, smashing his lips against yours. You kissed him back. His messy beard scraped against your face. "Mmph." You moaned, wrapping your arms around his neck. He picked you up into his arms like you were a feather. You giggled and continued to kiss him. His hands were on your ass cheeks, squeezing them as he took you two to the living room area.

"Baby?" "Hmm?" "Bedroom or living room?" You snorted at his question. At least you get a say in this. You thought for a moment. "Let's keep it fun-living room." "Glady." Joel smirked, kissing you again but this time, his tongue found it's way into your mouth. You didn't mind. It made you even more horny. Your guy's tongues fought for dominance. You wanted to explore every crevice of his mouth. You moaned loudly as he sat you down on him. You could feel his erection through his stained work jeans.

You giggled and kissed him before reaching your hands down to the end of your tank top and pulling it off. Joel just stared in admiration. He thinks you're gorgeous. "Look at you," He purred, "You're beautiful." He whispered. You grinned. "You're handsome, and so sexy." You spoke seductively before licking his lower lip and kissing him again. His hands went to your tits, he squeezed them gently. Joel is more of an ass guy though.

After making out for a little bit, Joel finally pulled away to take deep breaths. "I'm fuckin' twitchin'." He sighed deeply, looking down at his bulge. You think that's the sexist thing ever. You love when a man is vocal about how he feels or what you're doing to him. "I'm so wet for you, wanna feel?" You whispered against his ear. Joel's breath shuttered. "Badly." And his hands went to your shorts, undoing them and helping you out of them as well.

Stepping out of your shorts, you climbed back into Joel's lap and sighed. "Feel." You whispered, kissing his neck and jawline. Joel brought his finger down to your core and pulled your panties to the side. As he dipped his fingers through your folds, he let out a low groan. "So fuckin' wet, just for me, hm?" He whispered, nibbling on your jawline. You giggled. "Just for you." This surely isn't the first time you've gotten wet thinking about Mr. Joel Miller.

Joel swiped his fingers through your folds, picking up all of your juicy wetness. You continued to kiss him. He seemed desperate, like a wild animal. He's hungry for you. You bit his lower lip and once again swiped your tongue along his. You moaned so quietly, it was more of a whimper.

He pulled his finger away and grunted. "Need to feel you from the inside." He murmured as he pulled his cock out of his jeans. Oh yeah, he's big. You're excited. It's been so long, especially for him. You hope you're as good as he'll be to you. Grabbing his member, you yourself pulled your white panties to the side before you then sat down on his dick. Both of you made sensual noises as your folds and cunt enveloped him. He was already so deep inside of you. It feels so good.

"How's that?" You chuckled, your arms around his neck. He snickered and gripped your ass tightly, landing a smack onto it which caused you to jolt slightly. "You feel so good. Now fuckin' ride me." He began to squeeze and slap your ass and you started to ride him. You went slow at first. Your movements were just simple grinds back and forth but you'd occasionally lift your ass up and back down, literally bouncing on his cock.

You wanted to savour this. You haven't felt this good in awhile. Having sex with Joel tonight was not on your agenda of plans but seriously, it is a welcomed surprise. He feels amazing. He knows what he's doing too. Each time he pinches your ass cheeks or spanks you playfully, it either makes you moan or kiss him even harder and more passionately.

Now, Joel is holding your hips. You began to ride him faster too. His dick is so deep inside of you, you can hardly believe it. "I've wanted this for a long time." You moaned out, looking him in the eyes. His eyes got darker and even more full of lust. "Me too babygirl, me too." He then swatted your ass again before going back to squeezing your hips. You're sure you'll have red marks all over your cheeks by later in the evening.

Bouncing on him, each thrust was just a mark bringing you closer to your climax. His member is deep inside of you and is shoving itself against your tight walls with each movement. "Yes baby." He groaned, kissing and licking your neck. He thinks you smell amazing. You did put on your perfume before going to the event. You're glad it's doing it's job.

"Babygirl, turn around, cowgirl, y'know?" You giggled at his words. "Yes sir." You teased and lifted yourself off of him slightly to turn around. You were surprised he asked you to switch positions, but you aren't complaining. You pushed yourself down onto his dick again and you both made whimpering noises. He seems to be feeling good. That's all you want. It's been years for him, you better make it good.

Once you got comfortable, you moaned loudly as he started to thrust up into you. "Joel!" You practically screamed, tossing your head back against his broad shoulder. He cackled and kissed your neck, leaving numerous bites and hickies onto it too. How are you supposed to go into work on Monday? You're sure these'll last a few days, hopefully not. "Need to make sure I still got it." Joel grunted, now he is the one fucking you and man, it's heaven.

Joel noticed your head was still tilted back against his shoulder. He smirked. He brought his left hand up to your neck and held it, choking you now. You moaned and turned your head slightly, kissing his messy hair and giggling. "You're so deep inside of me." You panted. "Yea? You're takin' it so fuckin' well too baby." Joel replied, kissing your cheeks numerous times, making you smile and chuckle.

His free hand, his right one, was one your lower stomach, holding you in place. You wanted to look down to see him moving inside of you, but you couldn't. With his hand on your neck, there's not much you can do with your head. You aren't complaining. You think it's hot to be choked. He does it so well too. "Been thinkin' about fuckin' you for awhile now," He whispered against your ear. His breath was warm. "You feel better than I ever could've imagined." That made you whimper in pleasure.

You felt his right hand slither down from your waist and to your clit. You whimpered. "Oh God!" You whined out as he began to rub your clit fast and with pressure. It felt so good. He works well with his fingers. He continued to thrust up into you, which made the experience a million times better. "I'm gonna cum." You whispered to him. "No baby, not yet, hold it in." What!? How are you supposed to just hold it in? "What?" "You heard me babydoll." He licked behind your ear and bit on your lobe. "Do not cum yet." He sternly stated.

"How?" "Just do it."

How are you supposed to hold back your orgasm? No hookup has ever asked you to hold it back. Actually, they need you to cum quickly or else they'll finish before you. You whimpered and bit your lip. No, you're going to cum. "I can't," You panted, "I just can't." Joel didn't respond. "Joel!" You moaned out, reaching your hand behind his head and tugging on his hair. He grunted and bit down on your neck.

"Cum for me."

That was it. You moaned softly as you coated his cock in your fluids. You let go of his hair. Shaking in his lap, Joel continued to rub your clit until you came down from your high. It overstimed you even. "Holy Christ." You moaned. You went to turn your head to kiss him but he lifted you up and chuckled. "I still haven't finished." He then pushed you down onto the couch, doggy style, and began to pound into you.

You moaned loudly and gripped the couch beneath you. Your knuckles even went white. He moved so skillfully inside of you. Each pump was one of excellence. "Wish I could cum inside of you." He whispered, running his hands up and down your back before he ultimately rested them on your rear. Joel gripped your ass, squeezing it tightly before leaving multiple slaps onto it, all of which made your moan or squeal.

With just a couple more thrusts, Joel finished. He quickly pulled out and stroked himself. He finished all over your ass and lower back. "Fuck sakes." Joel groaned, caressing your ass as he came. You pushed your ass against his manhood and giggled. He spanked you again and snickered. "One sec." He leaned over and grabbed a random wipe, cleaning your ass and back off. He tossed the rag to the other side of the living room and you chuckled.

Joel heaved deeply and lifted you up by your waist and pulled you back into his lap. You were basically completely naked, only in panties whereas he was fully dressed. So unfair. "Was it good?" You asked him, resting your head against the arm of the couch. He glanced down at you, still breathing heavily. "You're a funny girl." He leaned down and kissed you softly. "It was fuckin' glorious." He then nibbed on your jawline, making you giggle cutely.

You hummed and looked up at him. "You're the only man whose ever denied me of finishing, by the way." You snorted. "That's because you've only done slept with boys who finish too quickly. I think it's sexy to see a woman be restricted of her pleasure." You giggled at his words. "It felt better." "That's the point babydoll." He caressed your cheek and you brought yourself closer to his face, kissing him gently.

He breathed in deeply and cupped your face firmly, holding you in place. "Don't convince me to fuck you again." He said with a smile against your lips. "If you can't handle it..." You bit your lip. You acted like you were about to get off of his lap and you suddenly squealed as he tossed you back onto the couch and put you in missionary. Your legs went over his shoulders and you smiled.

"Oh I think I can handle it."

That was where the next of many rounds began.

[lilbreed1ngdoll]

even though my money got stolen and i broke my phone charger (i have another one), today wasnt too bad.

i had a lot of very positive interactions when i ran a couple of errands today with both other customers and employees. that definitely made up for it (albeit, not monetarily lol)

[togrowoldinv]

The Retreat

Milf!Wanda Maximoff x Reader

When you go on a church retreat, you have a very interesting conversation with Wanda

Note: I have missed writing for this Wanda! Can’t get her out of my head lately. Y’all enjoy this one!

Warnings: Smut! 18+ please! Kissing, cursing, sad Wanda, oral and fingering (W receiving), age gap

Milf Wanda Masterlist, Main Masterlist

When you were asked to go on a women’s retreat, you immediately wanted to say no. The only reason you even go to church is to appease your parents. But it’s the final retreat of the year and you are expected to attend at least one.  

So, you find yourself now waiting by the church bus to load up. You watch as mothers say goodbye to their children and wives kiss their husbands. One family in particular catches your eye.  

The Maximoffs. Wanda, the matriarch, is a good friend of your mothers. They just moved to town a few years ago, but have made quite an impression in the town. Her husband travels for work, so Wanda is often found alone at the church service while her twin boys are in class for the children.  

You wonder how a man could ever leave a woman like that alone. She is definitely the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen. Some part of you has been attracted to her since you first laid eyes on her.  

Wanda gets on the bus and sits a few seats from you. She gives you a small wave. You put in your headphones to try and drown out the world. The drive only lasts a few hours and soon you’re at the retreat.  

You check in and get your room key. It doesn’t take long to figure out that you will have a roommate when you open the door and see there are two beds. You're praying it’s not one of the older ladies or someone in your peer group who you can’t stand.  

The prayer is answered when the door latch opens and none other than the one and only Wanda Maximoff walks in.  

“Well, hi y/n!” She says. “I didn’t know we were roommates.”  

“Hey Mrs. Maximoff. I didn’t either.”  

“Oh please call me Wanda. This weekend we are peers, sweetheart,” she says.  

She puts her bags on the bed next to the window. Sitting on the bed, she looks around the room. Wanda spots an itinerary on the bedside table.  

“Looks like a busy weekend,” she analyzes. “We should get going to the first session.”  

“Oh, I was thinking I would just rest tonight,” you reply.  

“Nonsense, y/n,” Wanda says. “You came all this way. You might as well try and enjoy it. I know you aren’t feeling the spirit these days, but let me try and do something about that, okay?”  

Your pulse quickens. How can she see right through you? Maybe she’s just being nice. Or maybe it’s worse and your mother asked her to look out for you this weekend.  

She stands and waits for you to join her. You sigh and follow Wanda out the door.  

The first session goes better than you thought it would. At least the food was good and the middling company was made a little better by Wanda’s presence.  

When you get back to the room, it is freezing cold in there. You notice Wanda shivering even in her sweatshirt and sweatpants she has on for bed. Still, you both try to go to sleep for the night.  

At some point though, you get a feeling someone is watching you while you sleep. Or more accurately, as you try to sleep in the arctic environment. Your eyes flutter open to see Wanda sitting up in her bed.  

“What time is it?” You ask her.  

“Early,” Wanda replies. Her voice is gravely, and if you think about it too much you might even be turned on by it.  

“Are you cold?”  

She nods. “The heat isn’t working. I tried, but can’t fix it.”  

You roll out of bed and walk to the thermostat on the wall. Wanda follows you and stands close behind you. You can hear her breathing as you investigate the issue.  

“Can you fix it?” She asks.  

“Unfortunately, I cannot,” you reply. Wanda sighs.  

You turn around and Wanda is still very close to you.  

“We have one option here,” she begins. “To sleep together.”  

“Oh,” you mumble. “We- um-”  

“We could snuggle and then our body heat will keep us warmer,” Wanda further explains. “What do you say?”  

“Okay.”  

“Okay,” Wanda says.  

She leads the way to your bed hoping since it’s the one away from the window it’ll be a little bit warmer. Wanda crawls into the bed and pulls the covers down. She waits for you to join her. You get into the bed cautiously, keeping a little distance between you two.  

“Come on closer, baby. I don’t bite,” Wanda says. She grins at herself.  

You get closer to her and she wraps an arm around your waist. You drape one of your arms across the pillow and she positions herself with her head between your neck and shoulder. Admittedly, it is warmer with the two of you snuggling together.  

Eventually, you both fall into a deep sleep and the snuggling becomes more relaxed. It feels natural when the two of you wake up in the morning still intertwined.  

“Good morning,” you say softly, trying not to get lost in her green eyes.  

“Good morning,” Wanda says. Her face is close to yours. You can practically see every detail of her perfect face. “We should get ready for the day.”  

“Right,” you say, breaking out of your trance. “Of course.”  

You two break apart and you miss her warmth already. When you two show up at breakfast, several people are already in the room.  

“Wanda! Y/n! Join our table!” The leader of the women’s group calls you both over. “How did you two sleep?”  

“Quite well,” Wanda replies. “It was cold, but we made do.”  

“Oh, we can have someone look at your heat,” the leader replies.  

“Thanks that would be-” you start, but are interrupted.  

“That’s alright,” Wanda says, placing a hand on your forearm. “We are okay.”  

It's a strange response, but you try not to read into it. She probably just doesn’t want to cause any trouble. The breakfast lecturer starts soon and your attention shifts.  

At the end of the day, you and Wanda find yourselves sitting in your room once again. Dinner isn’t for another hour, so you are just waiting around.  

“Should we work on our exercises?” Wanda asks, breaking the silence.  

“What?”  

“The vulnerability exercises we talked about today in the final session,” Wanda explains.  

“Oh, sure.”  

Wanda smiles. She sits on the edge of her bed and pats the spot next to her.  

“I’ll go first,” she says. 

“Remind me of the rules,” you ask.  

“We reveal something to each other that no one else knows. So that we can release it and let the weight go.”  

You nod. You have no idea what Wanda might say. Her life seems perfect.  

“Vision left me,” Wanda blurts out quickly.  

“What?” You ask in shock. “Wanda, I- what happened?”  

You hadn’t seen them interact much, but you never assumed that he wasn’t still in the picture. Just that he had been traveling.  

Wanda looks down, playing with the ring on her finger. You can tell she’s holding back tears.  

“Wanda, it’s okay. You don’t have to explain. I'm really sorry.”  

“No, it might help if I do,” Wanda says. “Things just got bad. They went from okay, to maybe not so good, to fuck we’re over.”  

Your eyes go wide. Never have you ever heard Wanda curse like that.  

“How long ago was it over?”  

“A few months,” Wanda says.  

“And you haven’t told anyone?”  

She shakes her head. “I just keep saying he’s away on business. The truth is he hasn’t touched me in almost a year.”  

“So, that snuggling we did last night was?” 

“The first time I’ve remotely been that close to someone in a year.”  

“Jesus,” you mumble. She doesn’t even scold you for using the Lord’s name in vain. “Can I hug you?”  

You figure she needs human connection now more than ever. She nods and you take Wanda in your arms. She melts against you. Tears fall down her face and soak into your shirt.  

“It’s okay,” you whisper softly to her. “You’re okay, Wanda.”  

“I’m not,” she says through sobs.  

“You will be,” you reply. “I’m here for you. My parents are here for you. All of these stupid, annoying women here are on your side too, okay? We won’t let you fall.”  

Wanda pulls away some and looks at you. You run your hand through her hair and brush your thumb against her cheek gently. She leans in just enough for you to know what’s about to happen.  

“Wanda,” you say. She keeps moving forward. “Mrs. Maximoff.”  

That makes her stop. She looks at you with confusion in her eyes.  

“I just want you. Do you not want me, baby?” Wanda asks.  

“Oh, of course I want you. I just haven’t done the exercise yet.”  

“Oh?”  

You take your other hand and pull her closer by her hip. Your lips are almost touching.  

“My secret is that I really, really want to kiss you right now and fuck you until you forget about your loser ex-husband who never deserved you in the first place,” you say.  

Wanda closes the gap between the two of you. Her lips move fervently against yours. You can tell she’s desperate.  

“When’s the last time he kissed you like this?” You ask between kisses.  

“Never,” she replies.  

You smile into her mouth and move to push her back onto the bed. Her legs wrap around your waist as you pin her arms above her head.  

“Fuck, Wanda, you are the most beautiful woman alive,” you tell her.  

“We shouldn’t do this,” she says. It's her final effort at not letting herself feel as good as he deserves to feel. You move your hands off of her just briefly.  

“We should do this, but I'll stop if you really don’t want this,” you tell her.  

“No, I- we just can’t tell anyone, okay?”  

“Yes ma’am.”  

You put your hands back on her. This time, you go straight for the buttons of her jeans. You kiss down her chest and around her belly. Deftly, you pull down her pants and panties in one fell swoop.  

Wanda shivers beneath the feeling of your wet lips against her hips and as you brush your nose lightly against her core.  

“Oh, god, y/n,” she whimpers.  

“So wet for me, Wanda,” you say. You dive into her core with your tongue. Her folds are intoxicating as you bring her more pleasure than she’s ever felt in her life.  

“I need you,” Wanda says. “Please, baby. Please!”  

You take Wanda’s clit in your mouth and move your fingers into her in tandem. She is writhing beneath your touch.  

“Come for me, Mrs. Maximoff,” you say as you feel her reaching her climax.  

“Fuck!” Wanda comes hard against you.  

You lick her as she comes down and move up her body slowly. You lie next to her and kiss her cheek softly. The juxtaposition of that soft kiss and what you were just doing between her legs makes her heart flutter.  

“Are you okay?” You ask her. She is staring at the ceiling.  

“Yes,” she replies. “Thank you for everything.”  

“Anytime Wanda,” you say. You ignore the ache between your legs, knowing Wanda needs time to process this. “Should we go to dinner?”  

“Oh, I guess so,” she says.  

You sit up, but Wanda grabs your arm before you can stand.  

“I want to fuck you later, okay?” Wanda says. “I just-”  

“Need a minute,” you finish for her.  

“Yeah. Thanks for understanding, sweetheart. It’ll be worth the wait I promise.”  

Wanda kisses you deeply before she gets off the bed to get cleaned up. You watch as she walks with a new bounce in her step that she didn’t have before.  

Maybe this retreat will be interesting after all.  

[cressidagrey]

Lightning in the Bottle - Chapter 9

Summary: 

Eira Archeron was neither a Valkyrie, nor a Seer, nor the High Lady of the Night Court. She was actually pretty much useless. The only thing she wanted was to be somebody's first choice for once in her life.

Also known as: Azriel's shadows decide that if he doesn't treat his mate right... they'll just do it for him.

Warnings: 

Elain Bashing, Rhys is trying to be a supportive big brother, This is officially the penultimate chapter of this story, but the series will eventually go on!

(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)

“When was I supposed to tell you?” Eira asked Feyre calmly. “You said you were busy with more important things. You were busy with running this court.”

She didn’t give her sister the fault for that, but…

“I would have…” Feyre protested but then cut herself off. “No, I wouldn’t have,” she sighed. “That’s on me. I gave you no opportunity to come to me, no reason why you should ever trust me again…” Feyre said softly, trailing off, staring at Eira with wide blue eyes. “I am sorry.”

“For what? Saying what you were thinking?” Eira asked her sister, her eyebrows furrowing. “You are allowed to do that, Feyre. Even if I don’t like to hear it.”

Even when she didn’t want to hear it…even then.

“Talking to you like this,” Feyre pointed out, reaching out for her hand.  “When I told you that I had more important things to do when you were only trying to be nice to me…or when I put my nose into what happened between Azriel and you.”

Eira swallowed at that. 

“Don’t be,” Eira assured her sister, forcing a smile on her face.  “It was time for me to…to realise that he’s completely uninterested and that any hope of him changing his mind is a fever dream.” Azriel wasn’t interested and he never would be. It would be better for everybody if Eira just accepted that. 

She would get over him. Find somebody else…maybe somebody that she wouldn’t annoy… maybe some long-suffering male… who was willing to take pity on her.  “You don’t need to worry about it anymore, Feyre. I won’t try and talk to him again,” she promised her sister. 

Feyre had enough other things to worry about. Eira’s feelings weren’t going to inconvenience anyone any more. 

“No!” Feyre exclaimed and she stared at her sister. 

What? 

This was what Feyre had wanted, wasn’t it?

“No?” she repeated questioningly, a hand still gently running over Nyx's back that was happily cuddling with her, playing with her fingers. 

“What Feyre means is that…you have every right to…handle your relationships as you see fit,” Nesta hurried to add. 

Her relationships?

“There is no relationship. There never will be a relationship. I’ll get over myself,” Eira promised. Eventually. “You don’t need to worry about it. I won’t annoy him any longer or inconvenience you.”

You’ve never annoyed Master, the shadows hissed at her, suddenly appearing and wrapping themselves around her hand. 

“It’s very sweet of you to say that, but we both know it is a lie,“ she said quietly, blinking back the tears that threatened to run over her face. It was so sweet. So sweet of them to do that…but it was useless. 

Don’t worry, I’ll find somebody else,” she said with a confidence she didn’t feel. Somebody that…somebody that maybe wanted her…somebody that she wouldn’t annoy…somebody that… “Is everything alright with Elain’s wedding planning?“ she asked, changing the topic. Eira hoped everything was alright with that, otherwise poor Elain would be so stressed once again and…

“Eira, forget that fucking wedding for a moment,” Nesta snapped and she flinched, worriedly looking at Nyx that didn’t seem to care one way or another about Nesta’s cursing. What was wrong with the wedding? Had something gone amiss? Was it her fault? Was it something that Eira had done?! “Look at me,” her older sister said with a sigh. She did. Eira’s eyes met Nesta’s, silver and grey, so similar. “I am sorry,” Nesta told her earnestly. 

“Why are you apologising?” Eira asked. What was…

“Because I threw everything I could think of at your head when I…during those weeks and you still came to visit me every week. You wouldn’t have needed to do that but you still did,” Nesta said quietly. 

“You’re my sister. Of course, I came to visit you,” Eira said fiercely. Of course, she had come to visit Nesta. She would have…otherwise, she wouldn’t have been able to live with herself. ”You don’t need to apologise,” Eira assured her. It was fine. Nesta had…had a really bad time and…

“Yes, I do,” Nesta snapped. “You should be angry with me!”

Furious…Angry…But then Eira had never really been angry quickly. She had never…And even when she had gotten angry, it had never held for very long…even her anger at Elain had gone away in a few hours. 

It sparked and then it went out again.

“You should be furious with me! For belittling you, for telling you that all the dresses you make are ugly, for behaving like I did!”

She repeated the words, and something deep inside Eira curled together once she heard them again, even when Nesta was sorry about all she had said. 

It was fine. Nesta could… her dresses weren’t as perfect as some that one could buy maybe…maybe Nesta was right. Maybe she should keep to hemming them and shortening sleeves and alterations and stop making things from scratch…maybe she should…“You are entitled to your own opinion,” she said softly. 

“Not when I use it to hurt you on purpose!” Nesta yowled. “You never told me you made me a wedding dress,” she said, her voice dropping, sounding weak. 

How did she…

For just a moment it felt like Eira’s heart was stopping. Then she swallowed, and she looked down at Nyx, still cuddled up to her, as she answered.  “You wouldn’t have wanted to wear it, so what did it matter? It’s ugly.”

Not good enough. Not pretty enough. Worthless.

“It’s beautiful,” Nesta responded, her voice splintering. 

Eira just closed her eyes. 

She couldn’t stand it. She could deal with the harsh words but she could not deal with the outright lying. She could not… “You don’t need to tell me that to spare my feelings, Nesta. I understand,” Eira said weakly. She did understand it. 

It was alright. It was…

“I am not lying to you!” Nesta snapped.” “Be angry at us. Scream at us. Throw us out, Eira. But don’t just…accept it. Don’t just turn the other cheek. Don’t just…”

What good could that possibly do?

“So I am angry and then what, Nesta?” Eira finally asked, for the first time feeling so utterly tired. “Is screaming at you supposed to make me feel better or you?” she asked, for the life of her not understanding what Nesta wanted from her. “I love you, but I don’t know what you want from me.”

“I think it may be better if you all take a break,” a voice came from the doorway and she looked up to see Rhysand there. 

Gods, couldn’t she at least be spared that? 

At least…

“I am not…” Nesta started, but Rhys cut her off quietly. 

“Nesta. Please.” She had never heard the two of them talk to each other like that. 

Never. 

But now they did. And to Eira’s shock, her older sister listened. 

“Fine,” she agreed with a sigh, as Feyre scooped up Nyx, who gave her a toothy smile as she waved at him. 

Both Feyre and Nesta left the room, leaving her alone with Rhys. 

“If this is about my ill-hidden puppy crush on your spymaster, you don’t need to worry about that,” she told him, trying to make her voice seem frosty and probably failing horribly. “I promise I’ll do whatever you want so that he’s not uncomfortable.”

Maybe then she would get out of needing to have a conversation about it with Rhys…maybe then he wouldn’t start making fun of her or laughing at it…

God, it must be utterly ridiculous to a man who was over 500 years old. She probably was just…

The last thing she had expected was for him to watch her with his dark violet eyes and then say three words: “I am sorry.”

Why was everybody insisting on apologising to her today?

And why was Rhys of all people apologising to her? Was it because of him looking into her mind? Seeing her deepest darkest secrets? Stripping her mind naked for him to see and gawk at? 

Was it that?

“About taking a peek into my mind? Weren’t you trying to keep my pain at bay?” she asked, crossing her arms, ignoring the pain that appeared again in her ribs. 

“I was,” Rhys agreed. “But I should have known better. I was arrogant and not careful enough. You have a right to privacy, Eira, and I violated that. And then I violated it further when I told everybody what you felt when they were talking to you.”

Oh great. It just got worse and worse. 

“It’s fine,” she said, waving him off meekly. She didn’t have the strength to argue with him right now. 

“It’s not,” Rhys disagreed with a sigh. “And that’s not the only thing that I am sorry about either. I am sorry about the role I played in making you feel like you have no place here in Velaris,” he continued and her head snapped up to him. 

How…of course. He had seen everything. 

 “Like you are worthless…that you don’t matter,” Rhys continued softly. “I should have never talked to you like that, and I should have realised that we have taken you for granted a very long time ago,” Rhys said. “Even now you are wondering why Feyre and Nesta even bother to apologise to you. Eira, it wasn’t right how we treated you. When I finally got to pull myself from your mind, I threw up, because I was so utterly disgusted with what members of our family said to you. And I am counting myself onto that list as well.”

She didn’t even know what to say to that. 

She didn’t…

It was everything she had ever wished anybody would tell her…Everything right there offered to her on a silver platter. 

She could feel the tears burn into her eyes because she was…”What do you want?” Eira finally choked out. “What do you want, Rhysand? You wouldn’t say that if you didn’t want something. So what is it?”

What did he want that…

But she hadn’t expected him to reach out, one warm broad hand settling on her shoulder. 

“Oh, little one,” he breathed. “I don’t…I don’t want anything from you. This isn’t me manipulating you into giving up even more of yourself. The only thing I want is for you to be happy. I want you to know that we love you. I want you to know that none of us took for granted what you did…that you took this knife for Nyx. You were willing to give your own life for my son, Eira.” 

She had. 

“I am sorry for the role I played. I am not expecting you to forgive me now, but I would…hope that you may let me earn your forgiveness. May let all of us work for it.”

She had no idea what to think of that, didn’t know what to say about any of that, as the tears ran over her cheeks and he handed her a handkerchief from nowhere, his magic easily answering his call. 

“Think about it?” he requested softly. “If you don’t think you can ever forgive us…we’ll figure out somewhere else for you to stay…you won't ever need to worry about money or anything else…but if you were willing to give us a second chance…I know that Feyre and Nesta would be so happy to have you here.”

She didn’t want to go anywhere else. She was too connected to her family for that, she loved them too much that she thought that she could be happy anywhere further away from them. Maybe a smarter person would have taken Rhys’ offer with both hands, would have made herself a nice little life somewhere near the Summer Court maybe…but…

So finally she just nodded. 

She would give them a chance to fix things. She could try. 

And if it didn’t work out…maybe she would find herself somewhere else then. 

“There is…something else, I need to show you, if that’s alright, though,” Rhys continued quietly. “And it’s not..going to be…nice,” he warned her. “Elain had a vision.”

A vision? A bad one? “When?” Eira asked tonelessly. Were they in danger? 

“Close to two years ago,” Rhys answered gently. “Soon after you were made…and since then Elain has…manipulated circumstances so that it wouldn’t come to fruition. She didn’t tell anybody about it.”

This didn’t sound well. This didn’t sound like her sister either. 

“Is she alright?” Eira demanded and Rhys nodded. 

“She’s fine,” he promised her, his voice even. “I think it’s better if you see it if you’ll let me show you.” 

She nodded her agreement, swallowing…steeling herself for death and destruction and then getting…neither. 

Actually, that vision was…the softest, sweetest thing she had ever seen. 

It was…It was everything she had ever wanted. 

A little girl with her caramel brown hair…dark eyes…hazel and green…and wings. She had wings? Illyrian wings?

Eira watched herself with the little girl…watched them pull the carrots out of the ground…watched the little girl grin at her, gap-toothed and beautiful…everything she had ever wanted. 

And then…then she saw these violently scarred hands that had only ever touched her with so much gentleness…scoop up the little girl, her daughter…her mud-sprinkled dress decorated with little floral embroidery and settled her on his hip in a move that looked like he had done it hundreds and thousands of time. 

It was…

Azriel. 

What? How…why…the wings. It was his child? Her child? His child? Their child?!

He lifted up the basket that they kept their harvest in and then helped up her…the touch gentle and…intimate in a way that spoke of their…that…

One hand was pressed against the swell of her belly…another child slumbering inside her. 

A baby. 

Her babies. 

Their babies. 

No, this…this…

Her blood rushed in her ears, her breathing rapid as her vision cleared and Rhys looked at her quietly…nearly pitying. 

“The mating bond snapped for Azriel during dinner a few days ago,” he told her, his voice quiet. 

No. No. No. 

“This isn’t funny.” She wasn’t even sure how she forced these words out of her mouth. She wasn’t sure how she did that…How she…

“It’s not a joke,” Rhys assured her quietly. “It’s the truth, Eira. Elain saw that and decided to stop it from happening.

No. 

Not Elain. Not her twin sister. Not…

Azriel. Azriel?

At least I found two males in my life willing to marry me. The one you have your ridiculous puppy crush on is never even going to look at you!”

But you do need to realise, Eira, that that is never going to go anywhere. 

Azriel is completely disinterested. And it would be better for you if you finally realised that.

I want you to be happy. And thirsting after a male that will never return your affections you won’t do that. He’s not going to change his mind, Eira.

You should just stop your pathetic attempts to flirt with him. All you manage is to make him uncomfortable. 

There are plenty of fish in the sea… You’ll find somebody else one day.

It’s still never going to go anywhere!

He’s completely disinterested.

Her breathing came in sharp gasps. Blood rushed in her ears. 

Elain had said all of that. Elain. 

Elain, who had known that Eira had fallen in love. Who had seen this vision…who had seen her…her children. Her babies. 

Azriel’s children. These perfect babies? 

And Elain had tried to make sure that they never would exist?!

Her babies…

The first sob that broke out of her chest, the first fat tears that spilt over her face as she buried her face in her hands…as she cried. 

“I know. I know, little one,” Rhys whispered quietly. 

“Why did she do this?” Eira forced out, forcing a deep lungful of air into her constricting lungs. Why would she do this? Why had she…Why had Elain seen this and then…then behaved like this…why had she…Why…

“Shhhhh,” Rhys shushed her softly, gently brushing a hand over her hair, smoothing it over “It’s alright. It’s alright.” 

It wasn’t alright. None of this was alright.

And she couldn’t stop the tears or the sob that shook her…even as she didn’t know how long it took until Nesta crawled into bed with her, hauling her against her body and holding her tightly. Even as Feyre curled up next to her, holding her hand…until it was the three of them, just as it had been in that cottage…lacking one sister. 

[gguk-n]

Chapter 2- First Encounters

Arranged For Love (Carlos Sainz Jr x Reader)

Series Masterlist

Summary- Maybe grandma knows best. Maybe Y/N and Carlos should start listening to Y/N's grandma.

You could only imagine what had gone down in the Kastner household. You could hear Y/N screaming. She wasn't happy and she was about to make it known. "Mum, this is crazy. I'm not marrying some crusty old dude" she shouted. "Sweetheart, he isn't some crusty old dude." her mother emphasised. "A little older than you sure but he is a handsome man" her mother reasoned. "No." she retorted, "Dad, I get why you can't say no to your mother but this is just atrocious. You are forcing your daughter like in the 1500s to marry a random man grandma chose" she whined looking at her father on the verge of tears. "Angel, it's nothing like that. Carlos is a nice man, he comes from a nice family. I literally grew up with his father. I'm sure if you met him you'll like him" her father reasoned. "Yeah, sure" she replied sarcastically running a hand through her hair. "I-You-ugh-" she sighed, "You guys met each other during your masters programme and then fell in love naturally, got married and had children. Why do I not get the chance to find some one? Go out on dates, have my heartbroken a few times before I find the one but you guys won't even let me be a stupid young adult in peace" she sighed, angry tears falling from her eyes. "Oh, no sweetheart, please don't cry." her mother tried to console her. "Please, leave. I don't want to talk to you guys right now" she stated pushing them out and closing the door. Her parents sighed, "She'll come around" her father cajoled her mother.

Carlos senior wasn't having very much luck with Carlos junior either. "Dad, I don't get it. I met this lady, who apparently left a lasting impact on you, good for you" junior emphasised, "like once. I'm not marrying her grand daughter." junior tried to reason. "Son, she is a good woman. I'm sure the grand daughter must be just as good and fun to be around as well." senior said. "I have a felling you two will get along well" senior spoke. "You don't know that. I don't want to marry someone just because" junior stated. "I think you should meet her. After that, we'll think about it" senior tried to coerce his son to join them for dinner. Junior was so annoyed with his parents and some how both his sisters for on their side. Carlos couldn't believe he was being forced into meeting a girl they wanted to marry him off to.

Carlos knew that there was no way to avoid the dinner since his father would personally drag him there if he didn't comply and he had no plans of finding his father's brute strength out. So, reluctantly Carlos got dressed and went with his family.

Y/N, on the other hand, hadn't left her room since the outburst she had a few hours ago. Her mother her tried to reason with her to get her to come out to no avail. It was only after her grandmother came to talk to her, "Sweetheart, it's me" her grandma knocked her door. "I know you're angry at me. Stay angry but do meet him once" she said. "I don't want to" Y/N shouted. "Give it a try. This old woman has seen a few things in her time" she chided. "I'll embarrass you if you force me" Y/N retorted. "Go ahead. I don't mind" her grandma spoke. "Just remember, I'll be gone in sometime and you'll remember what I said" her grandma sighed. The door clicked open, "Why would you say that?" Y/N asked in tears. "Honey, because it is true and I just want what's best for you" she explained. "I want you around forever, that's best for me" Y/N spoke barely above a whisper. "I'll try to fight off the grim reaper" Anika laughed. "Now, will you get dressed, they'll be here soon" her grandma asked. And that's how Y/N got dressed and joined them for dinner.

The Sainz had already arrived and were talking to the Kastner's when Y/N entered the living room. The place felt slightly cramped with the number of guests who were sat in that room but extremely homely. Y/N scanned the room, her eyes darting from one face to another until they rested on a dashing young man. He looked like a model, it couldn't be the guy her family was trying to set her up with, could it? she thought. Her grandmother beckoned Y/N towards her and introduced everyone to Y/N. "It's nice to meet you" she said with a tight lipped smile. Yes that man was handsome but she wasn't giving them the satisfaction by caving in within seconds of seeing him.

As she moved down the line, greeting everyone, she couldn't wait to be introduced to Carlos. "That's Carlos junior, he's a Formula One driver" her grandmother mentioned as Y/N shook his hand. "It's so nice to meet you too" Carlos said, his accent thick. Y/N felt a shudder run down her spine as Carlos spoke. "That's my lovely grand daughter, Y/N, I've told you so much about" her grandmother said. Y/N turned to see her grandma gleaming with joy. Oh, she was a sucker for Spaniards, this wasn't good; she couldn't let them have their way, she thought. When she had returned to her grandmother's side, "He's the guy I'm hoping you'll marry" she whispered in Y/N's ear.

Carlos wasn't sure what he was expecting but he was not expecting to have his breath be taken away. When Y/N entered the room, visible annoyance on her face, Carlos found his lips twitching. He didn't believe in love at first site but he might've just experienced it. Her hands were soft and warm, he felt a spark as they met to greet each other, he only hoped she felt the same. Carlos was a goner and he wasn't sure what he was supposed to say to his dad or this Y/N girl.

After a little while of chatting and stolen glances on both Y/N and Carlos's part; they couldn't let the other know they were interested, it would be a told you so moment for their parents and they had no interest in inflating their ego. The families moved outside which had been turned into a makeshift dining room to accommodate everyone. Y/N and Carlos were pushed together to be sat next to each other in hopes that they would start making small talk.

Y/N was slightly intimidated by him if she was being honest, the more she looked at him, the more heart beat faster. He looked like he was carved by God, he was pretty and handsome to look at. His hair was tousled so perfectly, and his eye lashes brushed his cheeks as he blinked, his lips were so soft and plump, she wondered what they felt like.

Carlos wasn't any better. His eyes scanned her face, the way her nose scrunched when her family said something or the way her hair flowed as she tried to tie it back or the way her jewellery reflected against the soft light of the candles. He was mesmerised, her laugh was so full of life, it made him smile. She was so full of life, always keeping the conversation going with everyone but him. He thought, did she dislike the idea that much that she had barely spoken to him the whole night, choosing to address anyone but him as everyone had dinner. Maybe he was hurt, a little, he wouldn't lie.

After dinner, Anika noticed how the two of them had barely interacted or spoken to each other, much to her dismay. So, she took matters into her own hands; "Why don't the two of you walk around for a bit? Maybe Y/N can show you the house. You both will get bored with all the adult talk" she tried to shush them away. "But our siblings are still here" Y/N tried to reason. "They are going to watch a movie or something. You should show Carlos around" her grandmother insisted and pushed the pair away.

Y/N and Carlos walked away, "Hi" she said meekly. "Hi" Carlos replied. The backyard was darker now, only lit by the moon light. "So, you race" Y/N trailed off. "Yeah, Formula One. Do you watch?" he asked. "Honestly, no. Heard about it today" she replied sheepishly. "Never been a huge sports girl" she tried to ease the situation. "My siblings watch I guess" she tried to lighten the mood. "Yeah, they told me. They're big fans it seems." Carlos spoke. "Maybe you guys could come to a race, when it's possible" Carlos suggested. "I'm sure they'll love that" she smiled. Carlos felt his heart beat faster. "Won't you be joining them?" Carlos asked hopefull. "I don't get the sport" she stopped when Carlos's mood seem to dampen, "but if you'll explain it to me, maybe I'll enjoy it" she chuckled nervously. God, this habit of nervous laughter was gonna end her, she thought. Carlos seemed to cheer up after that. They walked around for a bit. Y/N even showed him the house.

"Have you ever visited Madrid?" Carlos asked towards the end of their tour. "No, always wanted to though" she replied. "Then you should, you have a tour guide ready" he said pointing at himself. "I don't want to bother you" she smiled. "I don't think it would be much of a bother really." Carlos smiled back. "Maybe we could exchange number, incase I come to Madrid" she said shyly. "Sure" Carlos said quickly exchanging their phones.

"When should we plan the wedding?" Anika asked the two couples. "Let the kids decide" Ivan spoke. "I would but I think Y/N won't marry him out of spite" Anika laughed. "Would she?" Rose thought out. "I think a winter or spring wedding would be wonderful, nothing fancy." Anika stated. "I'll have to discuss that with Carlos" Carlos senior said. "Sure sure, take your time" Anika said.

In Anika's eyes the dinner felt like a success. The two of them were talking cordially. "I think this was a success" she told Ivan and Carlos senior. The two men looked at each other than Anika, "We agree" they said looking at Carlos and Y/N talking as they returned back to the living room. "How did you find the place Carlos?" Anika asked. "It's nice" Carlos replied. "I'm happy you had fun" Anika said patting his back. "Come back whenever you want. You're always welcome" she insisted.

Everyone hugged each other good bye. Anika had gotten teary eyes as she bid everyone good bye. "I don't know when I'll ever get to you all again" she spoke slowly. "Don't say that. You'll live long" Carlos senior spoke hugging her. "It was nice meeting you" Carlos whispered in Y/N's ear. "yeah. come back sometime" Y/N said. "Do keep in touch" Carlos said. "I will." Y/N spoke.

Y/N felt giddy as she got changed. She hadn't felt this way, whenever she hung out with any guy. He had a great personality with his breath-taking looks. She found herself hovering over his number a few time over the next couple days.

While back at his races, Carlos found himself thinking about Y/N. It was weird for him to be this preoccupied with anything like this other than racing. He hoped she would text him some time since he was too scared to do it himself.

Taglist- @herexpertcollector @redrevvedup @chaostudee @larastark3107 @jovialpainterunknown @vip-access @sugarvibez @champomiel @inarabee @virazeeee @seonghwaexile @champ15ns @ajthefujoshi @musicheaux @npcmia @marvel-ous-miss-maisie @mochipatch @gleeblegnarp @formula1-motogpfan @taliya8346282844eliviahdgdajs @dying-inside-but-its-classy

[harunayuuka2060]

Ruggie: Hm? Where are you going, Leona?

Leona: I'm gonna welcome Akihiko. He said that he was waiting at the gate.

Ruggie: Eh?

Ruggie: Are ya' not gonna tell Yuurin first?

Leona: She's in the middle of class. I'll just lead her brother to her classroom.

Ruggie: Oh, okay.

Ruggie: ...

Ruggie: By the way, what are you going to do with that nerf gun?

Leona: Leal.

Ruggie: Lol. Poor dude.

Vil: What? Leona has a girlfriend?

Epel: Yeah!

Vil: ...

Vil: That's impossible. Do you think someone like "Leona" can woo a woman?

Rook: I see no reason why not, Roi du Poison. If Roi des Lions can charm a man, I don't see why it wouldn't be possible with a woman.

Vil and Epel: ...

Vil: What the hell, Rook. Anyway, Epel, why did you think that Leona has a girlfriend?

Epel: Well, I saw him accompanying this lady and they seem very close.

Vil: ...

Vil: Didn't it come to you that they might just be friends?

Epel: ...

Epel: Right.

Vil: *sigh*

Akihiko: *walking gracefully as Leona and Leal accompany him*

Leona: *noticed the other students staring*

Leona: Why these kids gawking?

Leal: It might be because of Master Akihiko's beauty.

Leona: ...

Leona: How come you didn't dress as a guy?

Akihiko: Finding men's clothes that suited me was challenging.

Leal: ...

Leona: ...

Akihiko: Oh! Is this the class Yuurin is in?

Leona: Yeah. *knocks on the door*

Professor Trein: *opens it* Hm? Kingscholar?

Leona: 'Sup, Trein.

Professor Trein: *looks at Akihiko and Leal*

Professor Trein: Who are these people?

Leona: Ah, this one is Aki- I mean, Akane, Yuurin's older sister.

Leona: And this guy right here is Leal, their servant.

Leal: ...

Professor Trein: Oh. It's nice to meet you. I'm Mozus Trein. A history professor here at Night Raven College.

Akihiko: It's nice to meet you, Professor Trein. I've heard from Yuurin that you are one of his favorite professors.

Professor Trein: *chuckles* You flatter me.

Leona: Is Yuurin in your class?

Professor Trein: Yes. The students are having an exam. But I don't mind if the three of you watch.

Akihiko: *smiles* That would be lovely. Thank you, Professor Trein.

Yuurin: *hasn't noticed Akihiko, Leona, and Leal yet since she's too focused on answering the exam and making sure that every answer is correct*

Professor Trein: Your brother is quite studious.

Akihiko: *nods in agreement*

Ace: *yawns* *then happens to look at the front* Huh?

Ace: *starts tapping on Deuce's shoulder*

Deuce: What?

Ace: *whisper-yelled* A girl!

Deuce: Huh? *then looks at where he's pointing*

Deuce: ...

Akihiko: *wearing an elegant floral, long-sleeve dress with a surplice neckline*

Akihiko: *smiles and waves at them*

Ace and Deuce: *blushes in embarrassment and returns to answering their test papers*

Leona: Tch.

Yuurin: *finished up checking her answers and looked up to ask Professor Trein, then spotted Akihiko*

Yuurin: ...

Akihiko: *mouths* 'Are you done?' *smiles*

Yuurin: *nods* *then looks sternly at Leal*

Leal: *immediately lowers his head*

Leona: Wow. Good luck to you, Leal.

Leal: *mumbles* Master Akihiko, can I just wait for you outside the campus?

Akihiko: ...

Akihiko: Yes, it's fine.

Yuurin: Where is your husband?

Leona: He fled after you glared at him.

Yuurin: ...

Akihiko: *chuckles* That was Leal.

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: Did you marry him because he was nice?

Akihiko: You could say that.

Leona: Heh.

Ace and Deuce: Yuurin! *is running towards them*

Ace: Is she your older sister?!

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: Yes.

Akihiko: Pleased to meet you. My name is Akane. Yuurin's older sister.

Ace: Wha~! You're beautiful! No wonder Yuurin's so handsome!

Leona: *glares at Ace*

Ace: ...

Deuce: Nice to meet you, Sis Akane! My name's Deuce Spade! I'm one of Yuurin's closest friends!

Ace: A-And I'm Ace Trappola! Your future brother-in-law!

Leona: Huh?

Ace: Yikes! I'm just joking, senpai!

Idia: Eh? Yuurin's older brother?

Ortho: Hm!

Idia: ...

Idia: Is he together with Yuurin now?

Ortho: It seems they went to Savanaclaw. Why don't we go there to greet him, brother?

Idia: ...

Idia: I'll just send Yuurin a dm.

Ortho: No! You should greet them personally!

Idia: Leona is there! What do you want me to do?!

Akihiko: Yuurin~ Bluebell~?

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: *sigh* *switches to her feminine voice* What is it, Aki?

Akihiko: *claps happily*

Akihiko: Your feminine voice is adorable, bluebell!

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: It's not as adorable as your feminine voice.

Akihiko: Don't worry about it. I'm sure it will improve more in the next couple of years.

Leona: Aki's right. Anyway, we should go shopping.

Yuurin: Shopping?

Akihiko: Yes. I want to go shopping with you, bluebell.

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: Alright. *just wants to spend time with her brother*

Leona: Oh, is Leal going to tag along?

Yuurin: ...

Akihiko: I think it's best if we leave him. *smiles*

[slytherinn-xo]

St Alban's Local- Steph Catley

Steph Catley X Primary School Teacher! Katrina Gorry Sister! Reader

Synopsis: A cute morning café run sends you and Steph viral when Lorraine gets there.

1172 words.

It was definitely weird being an Australian in England, the difference in temperature. Having a cold Christmas. A warmish summer off from work. 

Following your footballer fiancée half way across the world and finding a new job in England as a Primary School teacher. 

But one thing I couldn't get my head around was the telly over here, and the British obsession with morning television, and these talk shows like Lorraine, This Morning and Loose Women. 

Not that I got to watch any of them as I was either at work already dealing with classes of up to 35, 5 year old children. Or in the holidays I took lie ins very seriously as I refused to leave the bed I shared with Steph until at least 10 o'clock no matter how much she tried to get up she wasn't moving either. 

So it was a surprise during the School Holidays, when Steph was able to drag herself, me and our giant dog Calvin out of the house and to Mulberry's Café. Mulberry's Café was literally the only place you would find me in a morning. 

The owner of the cute little café was such a cute lady, and she was also Australian, she felt like she was another mother to me. And she loved it when I brought in Calvin or Harper. But DO NOT and I mean DO NOT bring in Kyra or Katie. 

Why? Because last time I came in with either one of them just after Kyra moved here, Kyra broke two mugs somehow, and Katie is ............................ Irish and that's enough of a reason for Mrs Mulberry. 

But really I loved going to this little cafe on our morning walk with Calvin, as we get to sit in the little garden with him, and he gets to have a few biscuits with a bowl of water. 

So for once when I get there with Calvin and Steph in tow, as I swing open the door to the cafe, the bell jingling into the open space. 

"Mrs Mulberry!" I cheer as I see the older lady, going to give her a hug as she leaved the counter unattended to on this empty morning for her. 

 "Kaitlyn!" The older lady cheered out to me with a smile, hugging me as she kissed my cheeks lightly. "And I've told you it's Dot." 

"Dot, it's so nice to see you for once." I finally told the older lady as she held my cheeks in her hands with a smile. Having a little moment with my mother figure over here. 

"Yeah I was finally able to drag her out of bed!" And Steph just had to ruin it. Really this was a sweet moment and now she ruined it. 

"Oh shush you, you're no better!" I turned and finally spoke to my fiancée as I pointed at her, as she held Calvin back from jumping onto Dot. 

"Come on girls, now give me a hug Steph my girl." Dot finally turned to Steph and held her arms out wide for her to walk into for a moment. 

"It's lovely to see you Dot." Steph told her with a smile as she looked at me and locked eyes with mine over the shoulder of the lady as she stuck her tongue out at me. 

"Stop it you!" I told Steph pointing at her a cheeky smile on my lips, with Steph coming over to stand by me, with her hand in mine. 

"But......." Dot told us both with a smile as she looked at us both. 

"Oh no what do you want?" I asked her as I leaned my head on Steph's shoulder, as Calvin was finally let loose to go over to the older lady, as he jumped up at her. 

"Oh yes, good boy......." Dot focussed on Calvin for a moment. "Oh yes. We have Lorraine coming to the café this morning to interview someone about what they would do with 100, 000 pounds." 

"No." I just muttered. 

"And I said I would find someone for them, and since you're here, they're going to be here any minute, and I need someone for them to film." Dot told us both as she finally gave Calvin his biscuit. 

"I'm in St Alban's today and going to see what the locals would do if they won big this Autumn." The woman told the camera. Before it panned over to us two and Calvin. 

"Well we got engaged last New Years so we'd save it up for the wedding I'm sure." Steph told the camera with a nod. 

"That is a lot more expensive them we thought." I added in with a nod, and luckily that was all we would have to do. 

But what we didn't know was that over the next few days the clip would go viral for Steph being called a St Alban's local, but also as I was finally showed to the public with Steph. 

Our relationship has been private but not secret. Like the public know who I am if they follow Steph or any of the Aussie gals but this was different. 

A lot of WOSO fans knew who I was now. 

But my kiddo, my students all over the school, parent's included also knew. And I knew it would be a bugger coming up this Monday, with the kiddo's coming back to school. 

And this was the first reaction when I came back to school on Monday morning, and the kiddo's we're running in, like they had all planned to come in all at once and just bombard me with questions upon questions. 

'Miss Miss were you on the telly yesterday!' 

'Miss Gorry why were you at Mulberry's Café yesterday?' 

'Miss are you seeing Steph Catley the footballer?' 

'Miss why are you a St Alban's Local if you're Australian?' 

"Guys, breathe and we'll do this one by one, now hands in the air and I'll get you through all of this!" I told them all as they went to their assigned seats around my class room. 

"But first in case this covers your questions, I am currently engaged to Steph Catley Arsenal and Matilda's defender." I told all of the kiddos with a smile. "She proposed to me last New Years, and you guys should all be excited, because thanks to me, we've got our guests coming in next week." 

I has organised a day next week on their day off, and some of the Arsenal girls had agreed to come in and visit us all and have a fun day at the school for the kids. It wasn't just my class but for all of the year groups. 

"But Miss, who proposed to who?" I heard one of the kids asked, and honestly I wanted to laugh. 

People think the kids wouldn't accept this or would ask inappropriate questions but really they didn't care, and I was just happy they didn't ask me about how I looked as I looked so tired and dead in the clip. 

[3liza]

the other thing about duvets is i dont like that theyre a big pillowcase. this is more trouble than its worth imo. i think duvet covers should actually be two separate pieces, or one long piece in a taco format, and you just spread it out on the bed or floor, spread out the duvet on top, and THEN fasten the top of the duvet cover closed with either buttons or a concealed zipper along the edge. zipper texture unpleasantness could easily be tucked inside a padded border so it doesnt scratch you at night.

duvet covers were introduced to the usa in the 1960s as a part of the "scandinavian" interior decor movement during midcentury modern (they were brought from Sweden, so not actually scnadinavian, but americans dont know the difference and we dont care [edit: i am being informed sweden is actually considered part of scandinavia, i had been previously misinformed]), apparently from the Habitat store in London. i thought Biba was involved for some reason but I may be confusing a bit of documentary i watched with something else. in the documentary, the older lady they were interviewing who used to work at the department store that she claimed popularized the duvwet (either Habitat or Biba) talked about how the sales girls were trained to "demonstrate" the "convenience" of the duvet vs the traditional British method of quilt+sheets, and she remarked she got so good at it she could put the duvet in the cover in about 30 seconds. however when she tried to demonstrate for the presenter she got completely flummoxed by the damned thing. it was at that point i knew duvets were a mistake

anyway im finding some interesting gadgets for securing duvets rn, the one that looks least ugly is a thing that looks like a fabric-covered button that snaps into another button using a tack that pierces the duvet and cover layers. the other solutions also seem fine but are all ugly plastic doohickeys that would bother me on an aesthetic basis. the tack would probably damage the fabric but if you're not using your nice linens i bet it doesn't matter much, especially if the duvet cover is a rustic textile of some kind

the wikipedia article about the duvet is very interesting. i especially liked the part about how previous attempts to introduce it to england were failures

one of the other home bedding issues in the usa is that home washers and dryers and apartment washers and dryers are generally not big enough to effectively wash a down duvet or a quilt thats larger than about a Full, depending on thickness. this bothers me. feather down is especially irritating in this respect because it will get mildewy instantly if it isnt bone dry immediately after laundering. mentioning Sweden yet again, a friend showed me her shared laundry facilities in her Swedish apartment once and they DID have large, industrial machines that could easily take a duvet. she said this was typical. america continues to be difficult to live in for no good reason. its like literalyl everything you do here is 160% harder and more expensive than any other "comparable" country

[axelsagewrites]

Jamie Tartt*Famous

Pairing: Jamie x reader

Word count: 1841

Warnings: mentions of football related hate but nothing graphic, angst/breakup but everything’s happy by the end

Masterlist Here

Dating a famous footballer was not exactly something you’d ever planned on. You were never into football especially when you saw what it could cause. You remember being five years old crawled up crying as your relatives gathered round the television shouting and swearing because their team missed the penalty. Then you got older and found out the even worse things some men did because of a missed kick.

But somehow you ended up dating ‘the’ Jamie Tartt. Though you didn’t even know who he was when you met him. He was just a boy, and you were just a girl both sitting alone in a bar. Jamie had been nursing a pint for an hour when you came in and his jaw about dropped. However, he’d sworn to himself when ted told him last night, he could come back to Richmond he’d fix his act so he didn’t pounce like he usually would.

“Can I get a vodka lemonade please?” He heard you from across the bar and he could practically hear the sweetness in your voice.

The bar however gradually got busier and when Jamie returned from the bathroom, he realised there was only one seat left and it was next to you. “d’you mind if I sit? Just someone stole my seat,” he asked, suddenly realising how nervous he was for no reason.

You turned around and smiled at him before nodding to the seat, “Yeah sure. It’s pretty busy,”

“Tell me about it. Hate crowds sometimes. Make my head feel all fuzzy,” he smiled at the way you giggled not even caring if you were laughing at him. “Watcha want?” He asked after ordering his own drink and you hesitated for a moment, “Cmon, no strings or nothing. Just a drink. Vodka lemonade maybe?”

You laughed lightly and nodded, turning to the lady, “Yeah one of them please,” you turned back to Jamie as she worked on your drinks. “Its nice to meet you…” you said, words trailing off till Jamie finally realised you were asking his name.

“Jamie,” he said, sticking his hand out for what turned into a half awkward half laughy handshake that then turned into you both chatting till last call and Jamie walking you home.

-

Somehow his job hadn’t came up. It was partially because you had made a joke about hating football on your second date but also because Jamie was enjoying the normalcy of it all. Even if it meant when he spotted a paparazzi, he would very suddenly drag you away to a random shop or restaurant, putting up his hoodie to ruin their shot.

However eventually he had to tell you. He hadn’t put his hood up quick enough and their plastered on a magazine was Jamie holding your hand walking through London. “Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked, staring at yourself on the magazine in shock.

“You never asked?” He offered with a sorry smile, “I wanted to love but I just,” he sighed, “I didn’t want you to judge me or that. Cause I really like you,” he reached out to take your hand as you both sat on your couch.

You gave him a small smile, stroking your thumb over his hand, “So is this something that happens all the time? Pap’s following us around? Do people come up to you in the street and stuff?”

“Sometimes,” he shrugged since to Jamie this was just life, but he didn’t know at this point what was normal, “I mean like they’re pretty easy to ignore most the time,”

“Its just weird. I mean I’m on a magazine,” you said, eyes wide as you gestured to the glossy paper, “I never thought I’d end up being just some WAG,”

Jamie scoffed, “Babe you’re way more than a WAG,” he said as he put an arm around your shoulder, “You’re my girl. That is if you’ll still have me?”

“Of course, I will Jamie. It’ll just take me some time to get used to,”

-

However now the press knew you existed the paparazzi weren’t exactly easy to ignore. It was one thing being followed around with Jamie but one of them was waiting outside your work last week asking if you were another fling or if the pregnancy rumours were true. His comments sent you into a complete spiral with Jamie coming over to try comfort you.

 “He was just rude Jamie,” you sniffled into his chest.

“I know baby,” he tried to comfort you as he stroked your back, “It’ll be okay. You get used to it really and they’re not all that bad. Promise,” he said as he kissed the top of your head.

“I just wish,” you sighed, “that you’d told me in the first place,”

“What difference would it have made?” Jamie asked however your lack of response made him worry as he pulled back to look at your face, “Would you have said no? When I asked you to be my girlfriend. Would you have said no if you knew?”

You opened your mouth to speak but you struggled to get the words out. “I don’t know,” you managed to choke out, “I just don’t know if I can deal with this. I’m not good with attention let alone paparazzi following me. I never asked for any of this Jamie,” you began to ramble. “I like you I really do. But it’s a lot, okay?”

Jamie sighed however he almost cried when you pulled yourself out of his arms, “I like you too, but football is my job. It’s my life,”

“And I would never want you to give that up,” you said instantly, reaching for his hand, “Maybe we should just take a break? That way I can I don’t ease into it? Or like I don’t know just wrap my head around it,”

Jamie felt himself freeze in his seat. He nodded slowly before standing up, “Okay if that’s what you need,”

“I’m sorry Jamie. I really am,” you said, standing to follow him as he headed for the doors.

Jamie nodded once more as he reached for the handle, “Its not your fault. I should’ve told ya,”

“Jamie,” you said but he’d already opened the door. “We aren’t over its just…”

“Just a break,” he said, nodding his confirmation before walking out the door but you felt your heart shatter as the door shut.

-

Even though the paparazzi had stopped, and two weeks had gone by you still felt absolutely awful. You hadn’t seen Jamie in real life but suddenly you were seeing him on the news and his name on the back of kid’s jerseys. You began to wonder if it was for the best but every reminder of him stung.

Neither one of you had texted the other. You’d not heard from him at all since you left. Until yesterday when you got an email confirmation from Richmond fc with a ticket reserve confirmation in the buyer’s box under the name Tartt. The game was tomorrow, and you spent the whole day and yesterday debating if you would go. Eventually you decided not to.

-

However today when you woke up the first thing you saw was an article about the match going on today. Richmond was playing some team you’d never heard of but then again you only knew who Richmond were because you lived a 15-minute walk away from the stadium. The game was supposed to start at twelve.  As your eyes fell to the clock that read 10:48 you finally made up your mind.

You’ve never gotten ready so quick in your life and you were practically running out your flat at 11:35 and half sprinting to Richmond. However, you had no idea how to collect the tickets and the ticket man at the counter looked like he wanted to be anywhere else, so you just bought a seat instead.

You were ushered inside alongside hundreds of rowdy football fans decked out in Richmond gear. You did your best to find your seat and thanked the gods when you saw it was at the end of the aisle. It was three rows up from the front and you quickly realised right next to the thing the footballers came out of.

You felt your smile almost split your face when you watched Jamie walk out of the tunnel in his uniform, but he didn’t see you. As they turned to wave to the crowds the whole crowd jumped up so there was no chance, he heard you screaming his name alongside everyone else.

As the game started you actually found yourself enjoying it as you screamed and cheered alongside the football fans as Jamie scored another goal. It was 2-2 thanks to Jamie and you’d never felt prouder. “Cmon Jamie!” You screamed but you weren’t even the loudest as he ran down the pitch with the ball.

He passed to another player. Him to another. Back to Jamie. Now to someone up the field and then, “GOAL!” The crowd began to cheer and a few seconds later the final whistle rung. Everyone began to jump up and down and you quickly joined them as you jumped up clapping as you did so. The team were all smiles, well apart from a really big hairy guy, as they headed for the tunnel. Jamie however wasn’t smiling as he wore a look of concern.

Your eyes however were locked on Jamie. He however was looking up at the buyer’s box waiting to see you. However, it wasn’t until his eyes fell, thinking you were officially over when he saw you. His smile suddenly appeared, beaming brightly as he stopped in his tracks.

“Woo!” You cheered, clapping even harder. You could never quite predict Jamie. No one could. Not even Jamie thought he was going to do what he was about to do.

He ran for the stands, throwing himself up and climbing over the wall. The crowd was going mental, but your cheers stopped but the smile on your face didn’t as he ran up the stairs, ignoring the fans trying to pat him on the back.

“Hey,” he breathed out with a wide grin.

“Hi,” you giggled right back at him as you stepped forward. You could hear his team yelling at him and a ref coming but neither of you cared as his arm wrapped around your back and his head began to dip.

God you’d missed these lips. Your hand went to the back of his neck as the crowd whooped and hollered. Jamie pulled back as a ref rang a sharp whistle in his ear. “Call me yeah?” He said just before the hairy guy from his team pulled him halfway down the stairs.

“Yeah sure,” You laughed as he was forced back down the stairs and out the tunnel, somehow only receiving a yellow card. It may not be how you planned it, but you were certainly never gonna let Jamie go again. Youd already made that mistake once.

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[unoriginal-and-dumb]

I am doing things I AM DOING THINGS I AM!

Explanations for designs and some head canons below here :3

Infected - Asian-American Autistic ADHD aroace (😈) trans. Yknow Wybie from Coraline? Yea like that but like incredibly annoying. His voice sounds like it’s coming from a shitty mic all the time

Lampert (design by @lucid-daydreaming-art )- Autistic 🇸🇪 ja aroace (😈) funny lamp guy Robots-esque probably kinda talks like baymax honestly, I mean a bit different but yknow, the general idea

(I talk about these 2 enough it’s the others turns)

Poob - I think they are a dumb little critter. They run around and their arms flail in the wind like paper. When they try to clap is makes dog toy squeaking sounds. I don’t think they abide by the rules of physics which is why they are stupid looking ❤️ they have hammer space but it is only for weed related items. The curator of the forever weed brownie, if you will. I think they sound like X from bfb. Aroace (😈)

Pest - literally hates poob because they are small and annoying. Uhhh funky legs because I think he would have funky legs. I stole his eyes because well no real reason, but I think if he was like extra pissed you would see his eyes. Since he is like thief maxxing I do not think he would be wearing anything beyond a hoodie and sweatpants, something trying to be non-assuming I guess. He has hair I think but it is very short no way would he want to deal with that. I don’t have a voice hc for him yet. Aroace (😈)

Bive - she a freakkkkk ehhh. I think she is like freakishly tall, has funny bird legs, raggedy ass scrawny tail, and is constantly covered in hair. Her teeth are kinda just floating on her hair head, so if you punched her hard enough they would just go flying out and she would have to put them back into her head silly girl. I think she is also trans hahaahhahahahaha!!! I think she kinda sounds like ENA from dream bbq, the uhh angry side I believe. Ace (😈)

Split - I gave her dog ears because I think they are cute :) she’s probably like normal ish height Bive is just weirdly tall. She looks very nice and friendly but could probably throw a boulder at you and you will die sowyyyy. Gods most chillaxxed soldier. She gives me kind older lady feelings, even if she weren’t older. I dunno she would be like one of those people who have a comically large purse full of hard candy except it would all be banana flavored. I think she has a slower voice, HAVENT gotten an exact idea for her voice yet but she seems very calm. Ace (😈)

Pilby - I didn’t really add or change their design because I already liked it a lot. I think they are very sweet and kind looking, would make a great plush too but I guess we are not ready to talk about that (YES I am still bitter about it) I think being around them is akin to looking outside a window at an apple orchard while it’s raining a bit. I think they sound a bit like raggedy Anne, based on the creators response too. Aroace (😈)

Spud! - I honestly did not have much come to me for his design, they are just a bit of a funky feller and im not sure how I would add to it honestly. Oh but I do think that they run like an ostrich and it is very scary. Also while drawing I was debating why he had a bow and decided that Gnarpy was like CONGRATZ IN ZURVIVING THE TEZTZ and now Spud! Just has a stupid little yuor did it ribbon. Honestly no clue for voice hc… aroace (😈)

Gnarpy - had a lot of fun with xis design honestly. The redesign reminded me a lot of Stitch so I kinda just shoved that into xim. I think they act a lot like Zim. Like a lot. Probably equally as stupid. I think xis second arms are retractable, like stitch, and xe uses that as a very very shitty disguise that everyone can see right through but just don’t mention because xe seems to be having a good time. I think xe sounds like Four from BFB (the earlier episodes mostly) aroace (😈)

DRRETRO - I think that her head that we see in the game is like a projection of herself, Wagstaff Don’t Starve style. Her body would be like excruciatingly normal besides her head, too. Like go to the hospital and see a nurse, that’s just what she looks like. Very normal, it’s a bit unnerving since her head is that. She’s like those overly friendly posters in a very uncomfortable place type of feeling. She doesn’t have fur either, she’s just a weird cat doctor thing. She acts exactly like Doctor Barber from Flapjack. No voice hc, but she speaks in meows so probably just meowing. Aroace (😈)

Mark - I started thinking about tf2 and Anton blast. Anyway, he is completely made from wood other than the clothes. Beard is carved in, not sure if I got that across in the drawing though. Uh yea I don’t have much I just really like engineer. He wears flannel and a construction vest just like any good law avoiding construction worker. Definitely does not so legal things on his construction sites but does not give two shits about that and also probably would try to employ Lampert when he was younger for free workers (no im not projecting what are you talking about). How on the nose would it be to say he sounds like engineer because I just drew wooden engineer with a beard. Ace (😈)

Wallter - sorry wallter fans I had no ideas while drawing him. I dunno he’s big and he’s cement, so I kept him blocky. Urrrrr he has a can of grey stuff jingle jingle. He is the cement embodiment of that one tweet that’s like “nothing better than a glass of wine, except for maybe #men. #yep #imgay! He kinda seems like one of those lowkey scary bald gay guys who are nice but are also scary and still bald. He’s bald. No idea on voice maybe concrete sliding on asphalt for 10 hours. Ace (😈)

[foxymoxynoona]

Over the Falls (Ch. 6)

Sexy Banner & bar by @borabae-gx

Summary: Jungkook sees a lot of things as a pool tech. It’s…  fine. It pays the bills between mornings on the water and evenings  rocking out with his garage-band. His favorite thing to see on the job has been Grace Birch –older but a hottie, wealthy but nice, and  unfortunately very married. At least until Grace learns what her husband  has been up to behind her back. Now that she’s free, Jungkook finds  himself wondering: what does it take for a guy like him to catch the eye of a woman like that?

Genre: Poolboy Jungkook x Rich Divorcee OC

Tags: Age gap (older woman), socioeconomic gap, Surferboy JK, drummer/guitarist/vocalist JK, Wealthy divorcee OC, househusband

CW: Mature/Explicit,  Infidelity (not between JKxOC), language, alcohol, recreational drugs, lots of explicit sex, ageist/racist/classist remarks down the road, outdoor sex, beach sex

Chapter Five | Masterlist | Chapter Seven

The package sat loudly on the counter, unmoved from the spot Grace had set it when she brought in the mail yesterday. She’d meant to open it last night, obviously, but she’d been at the art gala with Stephanie until late and then decided to call her mom back –who scolded her for not coming home recently enough and threatened to visit, which would actually be kind of nice, except Grace didn’t want her seeing the new house until the renovations were done, or her mom would try to help and Grace wanted this place to be all hers. Then for obvious reasons it was no longer the right time to open the box.

But as Grace made her coffee the next morning, she eyed the box. It would be weird to open it now, right? In the morning? She’d paid extra for the rush shipping though so it felt stupid to then just let the box sit there. She could have just waited for standard shipping then. Not that money was the issue but there was morality in patience so she didn’t usually rush things. This time she’d made an exception after foolishly flirting with yet another man who committed only the crime of politeness –this time the guy at Best Buy helping her choose the right TVs for the new place, something she had never bought in her life and now she needed three and he’d just been so nice and supportive and non-predatory and good looking. She’d thought he was flirting. Maybe he was? After she’d made her purchase and booked the appointment for someone to come set them up, she began to worry he hadn’t been flirting. She hadn’t exactly done anything egregious, just smiled and laughed and felt flirty about it, but that was enough as far as she was concerned. She could not let her libido turn her into the sort of divorced woman who flirted with everything with a pulse. She didn’t want to be that kind of divorcee! 

Not that she thought there was anything wrong with a woman fucking around if she had the opportunity, if she knew it was welcome, but Grace found herself uncertain about taking that sort of step without unassailable, undeniable proof it was welcome. She was worried about inviting the wrong guy into her bed and repeating the last ten years. She was worried about rebounding and getting attached and hurting herself just as she’d finally gained her freedom. She was worried about making a fool of herself at an age she was supposed to have figured things out by. 

Grace set her empty plate in the sink instead of dealing with it now, and turned towards the box. Seconds before ripping it open with her hands –the tape on these things was so weak!-- she recalled the scolding from her nail lady and opted for the kitchen scissors instead.

Sure, she’d placed the order, but still her eyes went wide as she pulled things from the box: a long purple vibrator with a ridged end allegedly perfect for hitting just the right spot; a sparkly pink dildo that made her realize she did not understand measurements because was six inches really this big?!; a spray bottle of toy cleaner; and a plain bottle of unscented lube. The company had also thrown in several sample packets of flavored lube, which kind of ticked her off. What did she care if it was scented? What about her order made them think she had someone to try flavored lube on?!

The dildo was heavy in her hand. It had been at least ten years since she’d owned a dildo, and it wasn’t even one she’d bought; she’d been gifted one at her bridal shower amid ripples of giggles –largely from her own mother and grandmother. She’d never used it, didn’t even know what had happened to it so probably Tim had chucked it. Why would she, she had a brand new husband who’d seemed insatiably into her, willing to jump into the sack at the slightest lift of her eyebrow.

She recoiled from the memories now. They disgusted her. In the end, she hadn’t been enough –no. No, she had been enough, he was just an asshole. Not even a sex addict, just a horny bastard bored of the same sex with the same woman. Well she’d been bored of it too! He hadn’t satisfied her in years but she’d shrugged it off because she’d made a commitment that had nothing to do with good sex, it was about partnership and commitment. She would have endured a lifetime of no good sex…

Nauseating. No longer an issue, at least not for the same reason. She just needed to figure out how people did that. Not sex, she understood how sex worked, but how you got there in the first place. Could it have been as easy with that waiter as saying yeah I want to bang, let’s go? That didn’t seem right. What about… boundaries and condoms and sexual health and whether to stay or go afterwards? What about communicating what pleased her and understanding what pleased him? How the hell were you supposed to know what was good for someone you didn’t even know? And she sure didn’t know what was good for herself anymore, now that she’d let it get dusty down there. It seemed impossible she had ever been single and navigated this, but she had been a young pretty twenty-something and overly confident in her ability to choose good men.

Well. No time like the present. She eyed Foam, happily licking an extended leg within his favorite sunbeam in the empty room that would be the rec room –the walls of windows looking into the back porch didn’t seem appropriate for anything else so she was thinking of putting a wall of mirror on the other, installing a good fan, another TV, an elliptical and a bike. 

Now wasn’t the time to get distracted with home projects. Foam looked like he was settling in for a nap and probably wouldn’t interrupt. 

She carried her goods up the stairs to her master bedroom, the second room just about complete. The gauzy embroidered curtains she’d ordered for all the windows hadn’t arrived yet, nor the ornate rods she would hang them on, and she would take her time finding the right art for the walls–

Sex. Orgasm. Not tasks! Grace pulled the drab curtains closed for some privacy, but left the windows open because the early May morning was pleasant and the paint fumes from down the hall still needed airing out. 

First she dutifully cleaned the toys in the master bathroom sink. Then she set them on a towel on her nightstand to dry as she pulled her pants off. It felt ridiculous to be doing this in the morning… like having a beer with breakfast, the timing was all wrong. But excitement was growing just at the suggestion of a satisfying orgasm, and she wasn’t going to stop now just for some silly notion of right time. She’d spent too much of her life trying to do things at the right time and now look at it all. 

It also felt a little silly to have her shirt on but not her pants, but she decided to leave that too. She got settled in bed, under nice crisp sheets, before realizing she needed batteries for the vibrator. So she wrapped the throw around her body and shuffled downstairs to dig around for where she might have tucked them, feeling sillier by the minute for carving so much time out of her morning just for an orgasm.

Batteries found, back upstairs she went, only to discover it was actually a rechargeable and had blessedly come already charged. 

The Cosmo article she’d been reading had suggested the dildo-vibrator combination for “earth-shattering orgasm,” hence the dual purchase. They had not mentioned that you might feel a bit silly smearing lube onto a dildo at 8:35 in the morning. Lube had been her least favorite thing about sex with Tim –time would tell whether the need for it was simply a fact of life beyond her twenties or if her flailing attraction to her own husband’s pathetic overtures was to blame. God, she couldn’t believe she’d tried to view their sex life as healthy at the time. It was so… pathetic now. So obviously terrible! 

If she kept thinking about Tim, the whole bottle of lube wasn’t going to be enough. She propped her legs open and positioned the dildo at her entrance; the cold lube made her shiver and clench in a completely unsexy way. She grabbed the vibrator with her left hand and positioned it above her clit. When she clicked it on, the vibrations were way too strong at the start and she yanked her hand away with an actual squeak. 

Why was she acting like a teen girl touching herself for the first time?! Grace had a healthy sex life before Tim, including a healthy solo sex life. Maybe dildos hadn’t been her thing but she’d been well-versed in vibrators from the time her mom bought her first one at sixteen with the sage warning use this before every date so you never make a stupid decision about a man. That and a very frank explanation of the birds and bees when Grace was eight, were the only thing her mother had ever directly said to her about sex; they just didn’t talk about things like that, though Grace heard plenty from her older sister Diana and slightly older cousins so she was decently well informed by her first experience which was had been, to be honest, rather unimpressive.

“Why am I thinking about all of this?” she sighed to herself. It was like her mind couldn’t stop long enough to even seek pleasure. That was exactly why she needed this! She slid the vibrator and dildo back into place. The vibrator felt good but the dildo just felt like being poked. There was no atmosphere, no mood, and certainly no technique. 

She needed to be in the right mindset, not overly critical like this. She reached further back in time than Tim, but not back to those awkward first experiences. There had been some satisfying ones, back before Tim somehow stole her attention and her heart, before Oskar broke it –god, not the right time to think about him either. Before that, she’d dated around a bit, she’d had good sex that carried no emotional baggage for her now. Men who– well, young men, she’d been in her early twenties, which felt so long ago right now… 

Shut up, shut up, shut up. This was a bust. She sighed and let the dildo flop heavily to the bed between her legs. 

“No, you’re doing this,” she scolded, just as quickly. Even without the dildo, if need be! She slid the vibrator back into place and took slow, steady breaths, trying to empty her mind and focus on only what would be helpful now. She needed atmosphere. She needed touch, even if imagined. She closed her eyes and tried to picture a strong hand sliding down her thigh, skating between her legs, taking hold of the vibrator and the dildo. The nameless, faceless owner of the hand kissed her forehead, her cheek– no, too romantic, she wasn’t looking for that right now, she just wanted to cum. The mouth wasn’t important, just the hands sliding over her body, gripping, caressing, working her open with strong, tanned fingers.

OK, ok this was going better. She picked the dildo up again and slid it into place, envisioning the dark top of Nameless Guy’s head as he focused on positioning himself just where she wanted him to be. She pushed the dildo, just testing, as her other hand slid the vibrator a little here, a little there, trying not to come on too strong, but this was working, it was feeling good, and the clear head would feel worth it!

Suddenly music outside interrupted her daydream. She jolted just as the music lowered to a reasonable volume out of her own speakers. With a start she realized it must be JK here to work on the pool, and that she’d been so focused on her new toys she hadn’t even realized he was here.

She glanced at the rustling drapes and hesitated… she ought to stop but… why? He was working, it wasn’t like he knew what she was doing, she could go out and say hi after she finished and maybe took a cool shower… besides she’d been getting pretty close, why ruin a good thing?

So she closed her eyes and repositioned everything and took her deep breaths to get herself back to that place, to the imagined feel of those hands spreading and smoothing her thighs, squeezing her chest, gripping her ass while she pushed the dildo further in, slow, steady movements intended to mimic Faceless Nameless guy’s movements.

“For a while there it was rough but lately I’ve been doing better…”

JK’s voice had a sort of folksy rock twang to it that wasn’t usually there, but Grace had noted  as she’d listened to him sing his way through his CD collection that he seemed to take on traits of the genre,. His voice had this chameleon quality to it, bending and stretching and pulling on a new style to fit any sound. What a skill! And right now that skill drifted up on the breeze and into her bedroom as clearly as if he was serenading her from the balcony. What was this ridiculous acoustic design? The last thing she needed as her vibrator buzzed against her clit was JK’s voice crooning into her ear…

Oh. Oh no. The dark head of Nameless Guy looked up at her and JK’s dark brown eyes sparkled up at her above that crooked smirk.

Grace resisted. She tried to blur his face, scratch out the identifying characteristics, make him just a dark-haired, tanned stranger again… if he had been that way to begin with… 

It was wrong. Maybe that was a thing men did, but Grace couldn’t just use the image of her pool technician to get herself off!

And yet… things moved quickly as Nameless Guy refused to shed the face he’d claimed. Dark ink filled in on his shoulder and bled down through the other tattoos she’d observed only from a distance –the sharks inside his elbow, the compass on his bicep, the light lines on his wrist that looked like a sunrise. Her mind filled in the details it didn’t know, the dimples of shoulder muscles she’d never seen closely or touched–

She should not be letting JK sneak in like this. She couldn’t. She shouldn’t! But as the dildo parted her with its unnatural silicon weight in a way that wasn’t unpleasant, and the vibrator nudged her clit just the right moment, and JK’s voice hit the climax of the song, “I want you, I need you, oh God, don’t take these beautiful things that I’ve DONE”--

Well, Grace did too. Back arching, arms locked, body clenching around the shape of the dildo even once she’d pulled it out, the emptiness more intrusive than the feeling of fulness had been. 

For a few minutes Grace just lay there, tingly and relaxed. She listened to the whole next song that way, eyes closed, running her own fingers soothingly up and down her arm.

Then methodically she cleaned the toys and stashed them in a drawer, and took a shower –just a quick rinse to remove any lingering trace of what she’d just done, ie masturbated to the mental image of her pool guy who was out in her backyard this very moment.

Shit. That was the opposite of what orgasming was supposed to do, help her be free of stupid, impulsive decisions about men.  

God, that was so inappropriate! She hadn’t meant to. He’d snuck in during a weak moment. Obviously he was hot but she was not … like… into him or anything. Men did that, didn’t they? Just “borrowed” a person’s image because she was hot and they needed– ok but she didn’t want to be like a man!

But damn that orgasm had been better than she’d expected– due to the vibrator dildo combination, obviously! Not for any other reason!

She couldn’t ever face him.

“Hey!” she called, facing him anyway, because she had something to prove. She could be normal and kind and keep that oopsy mental image completely separate from the real guy because it was separate from the real guy! Probably she didn’t even have his tattoos right; it wasn’t like she’d ever made a careful study of them. 

He waved at her call but didn’t stop singing this new song, something she didn’t know but it was the same voice as before –the one JK outsang at every bar. The songs were slower, more mellow than the stuff JK usually listened to when he worked on her pool.

“Who is this?” she asked the most casual question she could think of. “It’s good music for your voice.”

“Benson Boone,” he answered, finally looking up, squinting at a patch of sunlight that hit him in the face. His sunglasses sat uselessly atop his head, holding his hair back. It was a little longer than Nameless Guy’s hair –she liked JK’s better, to be honest, he seemed to be growing it out lately. OK, maybe it was centimeters different. The more alarming thing was that her mind had perfectly recreated JK’s face. Was she really so familiar with it?! Well, hadn’t she always been good with faces?

No, no she was actually pretty bad at faces. She’d trained herself to get good at remembering names. 

“And thanks. I just got the album a couple of days ago. More folksy than I usually listen to but it’s good stuff,” he told her. “Thought you might like it.”

“I do but yeah, it doesn’t sound like your usual playlist.”

“Trying to expand my horizons,” he said, and skimmed a wad of leaves from the water to set on the side. “Ah, this is a good song. Happened pretty quickly, jumpin’ in with both feet I’ll go, though I can’t see nothing below, so ready to give up my soul. Movin’ past the boundaries, into waters so deep and so cold–”

The word “boundaries”, so beautifully articulated by JK’s lips, was like a smack to Grace’s backside.

“Yes, it’s great,” she interrupted. “Beautiful day, huh?”

“Perfect day to break in your pool,” he agreed.

“Beg pardon?”

He reached down to shovel the small pile of pool detritus he’d fished out into his bucket, then stepped back and gestured with a flourish, “I present to you, your pool.”

“You’re done? Already?” she frowned before she could think to stop herself.

JK laughed, “I’m not used to hearing that.”

“What?” Grace choked, mind leaping right back to what she’d been doing in her bedroom not twenty minutes ago. Had he meant that as a dirty joke?!

“You know, contractors take too long to finish the job?” he clarified. She could not tell from his face whether he knew the innuendo he’d made or if only her mind had taken a dip in the gutter this morning.

“Oh. Right. Well…”

“Are you happy with it?”

“Yes of course I am, it’s beautiful. I’m sure it’s going to be incredible to swim in,” she rushed out, forcing herself to look at it. The water sparkled in the morning sun, clear and cool, not a single tile left chipped or unpolished. 

“I should have taken before and after pictures,” he sighed. “Bob won’t believe it.”

“I have pictures from before. I’ll take them and send them along,” she promised. JK deserved praise from his boss. He’d done incredible work, and more quickly than she’d expected –not that she had any frame of reference beyond what JK told her to expect. And she supposed this was within that timeframe but still, it felt too suddenly done, didn’t it? 

“You don’t look that happy,” he admitted.

“No! I am. Obviously you did an amazing job. You just didn’t tell me you were getting close,” she said. Then quickly added, “To done. With the pool.”

He shrugged, “I got lucky, sometimes it takes longer to get the water just right but I tested this morning and it’s perfect. You could jump in right now if you wanted.”

She nodded, then shook her head and sighed, “I can’t this morning, but maybe tonight. I promise not to leave your hard work waiting for too long.”

“Good. That’s what makes it all worth doing,” he said, as if repairing her pool had been some higher calling and not a paycheck. He grabbed his tools, chucking anything that would fit into the bucket, then sliding his flip-flops back on. Like he was in a rush, she realized. He had somewhere to be. Other jobs to get to, now that he’d finished this long one. 

“Thank you again,” she said, walking alongside him to his truck. She joked, “I mean it. Mornings are going to be so quiet around here now without you letting yourself into my yard and blasting music to harass the neighbors.” 

“Well I’ll be back in a week to make sure everything looks good still and after that, every two weeks for cleaning, yeah?”

“Oh! Yes. I think I signed up for that? I’ll call Bob today and make sure.”

“Yeah my schedule is pretty booked but I’m sure I can squeeze you in.” He winked when he said it, then chucked stuff into the back of the truck with an alarmingly heavy thud. Before she could think of whether to tease or ignore about the wink –as if he needed to charm her into signing a pool cleaning contract– he continued, “Oh, and if you miss my singing before then, I’ll be covering one of those songs with my band at The Sand Bar this weekend. Saturday.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, we go on around nine, so not too late.”

“Oh! Let me get your CD before you drive off,” Grace realized. She ran to grab it while he stepped into his truck, then handed it through the open window.

“Think about it, huh? We’re pretty good and you like the music.”

What had that lyric been about boundaries? Grace felt like she ought to listen to it again –but probably not sung by JK with his band at a bar. Objectively she knew she had crossed a line this morning, that a line had already been crossed when JK first left her the CD with Tim’s video on it, and that no good would come from crossing further lines. 

But he seemed so earnest, so sincere in the suggestion, like he really thought it would be cool and normal for her to just show up at the bar he was playing at with his friends.

Wait, was that a normal thing to do though? If her housepainter mentioned he had a jazz band that played brunch on Sundays and she took Stephanie and Ashley, that would be totally fine.

But she hadn’t just orgasmed imagining her housepainter screwing her seven ways to Sunday while she drilled herself with a dildo.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said. 

“Ok good. The Sand Bar, Saturday.” He pointed his finger at her like a gun and clicked his tongue against his teeth while winking. She could tell by his response he had not understood her sidestep of the invitation, which was probably for the best. Probably he was being nice or trying to pull in an audience –he’d mentioned before that sometimes they got paid by heads when they played, though most of their gigs were unpaid. If he brought it up again, she would have some easy, polite excuse. That was one skill her mother had taught her well, how to politely manage an impossible social commitment.

Her pride in that was short lived as the gate closed behind the tail lights of his truck. The yard was suddenly so quiet with no music or conversation in it. She hadn’t known this was his last morning here or she wouldn’t have spent it all locked in her room… masturbating.

Ugh, the fact that’s what she’d done –instead of chatting or offering snacks for this final day of his work– was going to haunt her all day. Why hadn’t he mentioned he was almost done? 

Not that it mattered, of course. Not that it was any big thing. In fact it was nice to have the pool done now. She could go swimming right now! It looked beautiful, a sparkling gem tucked back in the yard. She would swim in it soon and really enjoy all that carefully laid tile and the clarity of the water and the absolute lack of frogs. And when JK came back to clean it in two weeks, she would retain a professional, respectful boundary. And in the meantime, she would try to make some actual new friends so she stopped relying on the pool guy for company. And she would, you know, definitely not use his image in her masturbatory fantasy because that was just beneath her. That had been an egregious slip, it was embarrassing, and she would not make the same mistake twice.

Mara had called Jungkook on a Thursday night, hot and bothered and looking for a hook up so of course he had gone. It was simple sex, a good release after such a long stretch of nothing, and afterwards Jungkook fell asleep on the edge of her twin bed feeling pretty good about things. This was good to do. He’d been saying for a long time he needed to start fucking around more. Sex cleared the head and balls. 

He didn’t need more than this. Sure, some people did the whole relationship thing, but he only thought that way when he went too long with getting laid, when he got sentimental from too many chick flicks or too much time around his enamored parents. He could get laid, even if it was just rotating through a few familiar women and an occasional surprise when the sun and moon aligned just right after he left the stage –was that such a bad life? It could be worse. He’d gone through dry-spells before that left him doubting everything about himself, but if it was just that no girl really thought he was commitment material… well yeah, ok, he didn’t think he was really that either. What did he have to commit? He still felt sixteen years old in his heart, sometimes. Often times. Someday he’d meet someone, he’d have the whole romance. It could still happen for him, even though he was twenty-six without any real long term relationships under his belt.

But he’d cummed out the self deprecating thoughts, left them knotted in a condom in Mara’s trashcan, and had a great night of sleep in her overly air-conditioned apartment. It left him reluctant to return to his own, because Jimin was worried about the environment lately after the governor or something said people should be more conscientious so they were letting their house sit a little warmer. Jungkook was fine with it, but it was making Jimin and Taehyung both cranky. Hoseok had even decided to sleep at his own place, alone, so that definitely hadn’t helped Jimin’s mood. 

When Mara woke up, she looked hot as hell and ready to fuck again, stretching all cat-like along his side and pawing at his stomach.

Her fingers had just brushed his eager dick when his phone rang –never in his life a good sign. He fumbled it off the nightstand and answered instantly when he saw [Yoda] on the ID.

“Haewon? Everything ok?” he asked, sitting up and pushing Mara’s hand aside.

“Is that your sister?” Mara asked, her exasperation louder than the air conditioner.

“Hey. Are you awake?”

“Yeah I’m awake. What’s up?” He nodded at Mara and shoved out of the bed, grabbing clothes as he went because it felt wrong to go into big brother mode while naked in bed, half hard. The irony of it being with Mara –who’d dumped him in the first place for being too family-first– was not lost on him, but what was he going to do, hang up on his favorite sister?

“My car died and Dad said I can borrow his car while mine is in the shop but he can’t get me until later but I really need the car before lunch.”

“Why, what’s happening at lunch?” Jungkook asked, temporarily suspicious. 

“There’s a seminar on–”

“Ok, fine, I’ll come get you and drive you over,” he interrupted. Seminar, of course. Yoojin would have a hot date but Haewon had a seminar, probably about the politics of poverty or immigrant rights or some other incredibly important but super boring thing Jungkook would never have been able to sit through. “Be there in… maybe an hour?”

“An hour? It’s not an hour from your place to campus.”

“Ah, well, I’m in Hacienda Heights… see you in an hour.” He hung up before she could ask questions yet, though she wouldn’t pester much. Yoojin was nosy; Haewon would rather not know, and that was one reason she was the favorite sister.

Mara crossed her arms and snarked, “I was going to ask if you wanted to get breakfast but I guess family calls, huh?”

“Little sister is having car trouble,” he confirmed, “so I gotta go get her.”

“Honestly, don’t you ever feel like you’re just living the same day of your life over and over?” she asked and showed him the door.

Jungkook did not know what she meant and for that reason kept thinking about it as he crawled his way through traffic. Huh? Living the same day over and over? That wasn’t true at all. For example, last night he’d got laid by Mara on a random Thursday evening after not talking to her for months, which made it feel like it was six months ago, not the same day as the one before, which he had spent surfing and cleaning pools and lifeguarding at the beach until the sun went down. 

Haewon was on a cement bench when he pulled up near her dorm, arms around bent knees as two boys with skateboards talked to her. Jungkook thought they were trying to make her laugh. They had their baseball caps on backwards and he instantly didn’t like them for it. He beeped the horn once and Haewon sprang up but without any apparent guilt or worries about Jungkook seeing her talk to the guys. She waved at them, grabbed her duffel and her backpack, and tossed both in the trunk when Jungkook popped it.

“Hey,” he greeted as she slid into the seat beside him. “Friends of yours?”

“No, not really.”

“Only fuckboys wear their baseball caps backwards when it’s this bright out, you know,” he warned.

Haewon laughed and playfully shoved his head, asking, “How’s Mara?”

“Asked me a weird fucking question this morning,” he admitted, pulling away from the curb. He could change the subject from Mara and Haewon wouldn’t do a thing to press further, but she was smart and he realized he could borrow some of that right now.

“What’d she say?”

“Asked if I feel like I’m living the same day over and over.” He kept his window rolled down but the air on, because Haewon liked riding in the car like that; sometimes when they’d needed a break from the small family apartment when they were younger, he’d take her out in whatever beat up car he had at the time and they’d cruise through a tank of gas with the a/c on and the windows down and ideally the California coast out the window. They’d get Icees and drink them sitting on the hood. 

“Well… do you?”

“...no? What does that even mean?”

“Like you’re just doing the same things over and over and not going anywhere in life, I think,” she suggested, and wiggled in her seat to pull a squashed packet of gum out of her pocket. “Want some gum?”

“Well I don’t feel that way.”

“Yeah, ok, good. Gum?”

He accepted and they drove through an intersection in silence, Haewon clearly letting him mull this over. She was smart, so that was probably exactly what Mara meant. Obviously Haewon and Mara had never met, and he tried not to give her too much of a glimpse into his dating life since she was his little sister and all, but she knew some things. Yoojin knew more, because sometimes he’d forget what she was like and vent to her because they were closer in age, and then she’d say dumb shit that made him regret confiding anything in her and he’d hold off for months. Haewon did more with less. She’d give advice about the female mind if you really asked, but preferred to just tease a little and then stay out of it. And frankly, Jungkook wasn’t hooking up with any women that had a thing in common with Haewon, so it wouldn’t have been a great help anyway.

“Why is everyone obsessed with going somewhere?” he finally asked. “I’m just… surfing. Swim out, ride in, swim out, ride in, take a water break, do it again, and have fun doing it.”

“Yeah so what’s the problem? Don’t worry about her. Bitches will say anything.”

“Hae!”

Haewon laughed and assured him, “She’s probably just mad that you’re happy and she’s not.”

“How do you know she’s not happy? She seemed happy to me.” Except for the fact she’d made it clear months ago she didn’t want to keep seeing Jungkook and then called him up for a fuck again on a random Thursday night. So maybe she wasn’t actually that happy. She’d graduated over a year ago and was working in film, camera work, but he didn’t actually know if she had a job or not. She hadn’t wanted to talk, just fuck. “But yeah, you’re right, maybe she was talking about herself.”

“Yeah don’t worry about it. A lot of times when women say something, it’s really about them, not you.”

That sounded right and true and he was immediately relieved. 

“See? It’s totally worth it we’re paying the big bucks to send you to UCLA,” he teased, and rustled her hair while they were stopped at a red light. She scowled and pushed his hands away. “And not to date little shits who wear their hats backwards.”

“Oh my god, I said they’re not friends of mine,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes.

“Yeah but I bet they want to be.”

“Maybe,” she admitted with a snicker. “But don’t worry about them. They can’t even show up to class on time, it’s completely…” She pondered the right word. “Disappointing.”

“Yeah well you just wait until a guy isn’t disappointing, that’s all. Keep your high standards.”

“You sound like Yoojin except she’s being sarcastic.”

“Don’t ever take guy advice from Yoojin,” Jungkook immediately scolded. 

“Yeah but Max is so cute.”

“Just because she made a great little dude doesn’t mean she knows anything about the kind of life that you’re going to have. No pressure or anything,” he quickly added, because unlike the rest of their family he knew it wouldn’t do Haewon any good to feel like they’d piled their hopes and dreams on her. They hadn’t. They just all saw she was earmarked for something better than surfing the tide and they wanted that for her. She was going somewhere, and he wanted to be the wave that helped carry her, not the wave that overwhelmed and drowned her. 

“Yeah no pressure. I’ve only got two years to raise the money for Yale…”

“We’ll get you there,” he said. “Fucker, use your fucking light,” he mumbled as a guy cut him off –no, not a guy, an older white lady with puffed up blonde hair and nails so long he could see them on the wheel when he swerved around her because she was going ten below the speed limit.

“You didn’t say anything to Mom and Dad about Yale, did you?” she asked.

“Fuck no, why? The only person I’ve talked to about it is Soyoon and you know she won’t say anything to anyone.” Soyoon and Yoongi had both gone to college, UC Berkeley where they’d met. Yoongi had dropped out in his third year to take care of his parents through a health scare and never gone back, but Soyoon had graduated with a degree in journalism and was his only source of personal knowledge about how to fund college educations because she worked in the financial aid office at UCLA, even though she hadn’t gone there. Her help had been huge in navigating scholarships and loans for Haewon for undergrad and while she didn’t know much about East Coast schools or graduate programs, she did her best fielding whatever questions Jungkook threw at her as he tried to figure out how to get Haewon to her dream school.

“Ok, good. Mom said something about New England the other day and how pretty it must be in the fall… I was like, what? Why are we talking about New England suddenly?”

“I didn’t say shit, hand on my Death Note books. Probably she’s just complaining about the heat and daydreaming about moving there,” he suggested, because she definitely did that. What he didn’t do was suggest Haewon tell their parents about her dreams of Yale Law School. He respected her desire not to stress them out about something she herself wasn’t confident she could achieve or afford. He was honored she trusted him with her dream, that she relied on his guidance to help her figure it out, and he wasn’t going to let her down no matter what. 

So it was only his head that spun the numbers every so often: Yale Law School cost about $100k per year to cover tuition, housing, books, and food. But there were lots of scholarships available, even if his parents made too much money for them to qualify for some –which was laughable because what money? Haewon was potentially interested in going into public sector work afterwards which would help with loan forgiveness. They would figure it out, no problem. He, his parents, and Haewon were all saving too, for whatever scholarships couldn’t cover, and if they had to go the loan route again, they would. Haewon would get to go to Yale. Eventually she would have to tell them she was looking that far away, not somewhere West Coast, but that would be her news to share.

“It’s so nice. I can’t wait to be there and out of this heat,” she admitted. She rolled her window up and cranked the a/c, so he rolled his window up too. “Maybe you’d like it too.”

“Oh yeah? Could we get an apartment off campus together?” he joked. “What’s the surfing like in Connecticut? Big population of folks with pools that need cleaning?”

“I think you’d do more snowboarding than surfing but there’s lots of rich people, I bet they have pools they’re too lazy to learn how to take care of,” she pointed out. “And you don’t pronounce the ‘c’ in the middle, by the way.”

He ignored her and mused, “I don’t know if I’d like snowboarding… I like the sun and the sand.”

“That’s weird. Who likes sand?”

“It’s exfoliating,” he said, because he knew it would get a laugh from her. It did.  

“You should find a way to sell that to rich people,” she suggested. “Like way overcharge them for a spa treatment but it’s just… I don’t, retrieving your surfboard.”

“First of all, I am not a conman, I’d have a lot more money.”

“Only if you’re a good one and I kind of think you’d suck at it. You’re not good at lying,” se teased.

“Second of all, you are definitely not a business major. That’s your great business idea? You have to sell it better than that.”

“Ok Mr. Business, make it sound better?”

“Look, I can sing you a song, I can clean your pool–”

“Have you been writing songs?” she interrupted. “I like that last one you let me hear.” Jungkook cringed. He regretted letting her hear, but he’d been really proud of it and had wanted to show off to her that he could do something cool too, something cooler than just playing the songs someone else wrote. But damn, writing songs was hard.

“That was two years ago,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, so? Chop chop, right?”

“I’m working on some things,” he lied, shrugged. “Maybe if it gets far enough along.”

“Can I come hear your band play? When’s your next show?”

“Don’t you have studying to do?” he countered.

She snickered, “Oh, too many sharks with backwards caps, huh? Is that your crowd?”

“Too many women flirting with me,” he corrected. “You don’t need to see that.”

“Yeah, yuck, I don’t need to see that,” she agreed. “Don’t you play all ages places ever though? I’m going to text Soyoon or Yoongi, they’ll let me come see you. Maybe you’re not even telling me the truth about how the ladies love you. You know you don’t have to impress me, right?”

She was teasing, he knew that, but still he insisted, “Yah, you doubt it? I’m charming as fuck!”

“Ok ok geez. I just think if that was true you wouldn’t be spending your nights with Mara.”

“What’s wrong with Mara? You’ve never even met her.”

“Exactly.”

“I’m not going to introduce you to the women I…” he trailed off. Ok, this was veering into not-appropriate-for-baby-sister territory. “Am acquainted with,” he suggested.

“Yeah thank god, I don’t want to meet them.”

“And I’m not failing at relationships or anything. I’m not trying to have one. I’m happy just…”

“Fucking around?” she asked.

“Haewon! Language!”

“Oh my god, does my own brother wear his cap backwards?” she teased. “Mo did.”

“Mo did,” Jungkook admitted and felt a pang. Yeah and Mo was a fuckboy the likes Jungkook could never aspire to. He was happily a fuckboy, successful, he loved the ladies and the ladies loved him to the bitter end. Jungkook could only dream of aspiring to Mo’s level of charm. Mo could talk circles around a woman until she was all knotted up and begging for him to unwind her. What few dates Jungkook managed to score on Tinder tended to go further downhill the more he talked. Context mattered for him; he needed the environment to make him look good, for his drumming or surfing to do the seduction for him.

“Well as long as you’re happy, I think it’s cool, but I’ve never heard anything about Mara that I liked so I don’t think she’s worth your time. At least don’t waste time with annoying ones.”

“Yeah, I know, I won’t.”

“Besides, you wear bucket hats. What would you warn me about guys wearing bucket hats?”

“Don’t date a guy who wears bucket hats either. Don’t you want to date a guy who wears like… a beret or something?”

“Uh… like a French guy?!”

“Rich, educated, maybe European…”

“Is that what you dream of for me?” she cackled in the passenger’s seat. “Oh my god that sounds terrible. I thought you liked me!”

“Yeah I just want you to wind up with someone really good! When you’re ready though. Right now, focus on your studies.”

“Ok dad, thanks. Anyway, what if I’m a lesbian?”

Jungkook considered this in earnest. As far as he knew, Haewon had never been close with a single guy, but she’d had some female friends. None that struck him as romantic, but it wasn’t like their family shared everything. She was keeping Yale a secret, maybe she had others too, even from him.

“Nah,” he finally decided. “I think you would have told me. I think you’re just school-sexual.”

“You say that like it’s lame.”

“There’s nothing lame about having more exciting things in your life!” he corrected.

“I don’t know what I am,” she admitted. “Everyone I’ve met is a clown. The guys would all waste my time. I know some cool girls but…”

Jungkook got very still. Wait, was Haewon coming out to him? He felt a mixture of panic and honor swirling in his chest. He hadn’t prepared for this. Honestly, despite half his friends being queer, he’d never much questioned that both his sisters were straight, because in the abstract Haewon had talked about a future boyfriend or husband, never anything else.

“That’s ok then,” he said, carefully.

“I don’t know how someone can date a girl though,” Haewon said. “Like they just make me feel crappy about myself.”

“You just haven’t met the right person,” he said, vowing from now on he would use gender neutral terms to make sure she knew he was cool with whatever she wanted in the future. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Well… do girls make you feel good about yourself?” she asked. 

He thought about the safest answer to give his baby sister. The truth was that often women made him feel like a total piece of shit. But when it went well, when he fucked good or flirted good or played good, they made him feel like a fucking rock star, and he couldn’t stay away, he was constantly chasing that high, it carried him through the times he felt like a loser. Again and again he struck out but he kept swimming towards that ultimate dream, the one woman who could make him feel like a rockstar every day just with the touch of her finger…

“Yeah,” he said, keeping it simple. “But nothing feels as good as riding a really good wave though so I don’t think I’m in danger of settling down any time soon.”

“Maybe someday I’ll make enough money I can buy you a really nice beach condo and then you can just surf all the time and never worry about bitches,” she suggested, and he could see the twitch of her smile out of the corner of his eye, that she was trying to get a reaction from him.

“Are you just pissed you had to wait longer for me to pick you up this morning when you called me out of nowhere asking for a ride? Is that why you’re swearing like a sailor?”

“Yeah,” she giggled.

“Well stop it, you’re sounding too much like Yoojin.”

“Ok that’s one way to scare me.”

“Exactly, don’t do it.”

“Especially if I’m going to be the pride and joy of the family,” Haewon joked.

“Ok wait hold on now. I am clearly the pride and joy of the family,” he corrected. “I’m living exactly the life I want, the way I want it. That, my friend, is success. And I look fucking good doing it.”

“I don’t know, you haven’t written a song in two years…”

“I have! Just not any I want you to listen to.”

“Are they all about sex and drugs and things I’m not supposed to know about?” she asked, face curling up in disgust, intentionally pretending to be twelve again. 

“Why couldn’t dad pick you up again?” he asked to change the subject. He didn’t want to write songs like that but finding something more profound to write about had left him spinning in circles for literal years. Maybe there wasn’t more to life than just doing what you wanted and having fun with your friends and being the best son you could and avoiding drugs so you didn’t break your family’s heart, but he didn’t think that song would play on the radio and he didn’t know how to put it into words anyway. Sometimes he wasn’t even sure he believed that, but he wasn’t like Haewon, he didn’t have some big career goal for his life. He wasn’t even like Yoojin, with a commitment that should be giving her direction and purpose in pursuit of the best life possible for Max. 

“He took Max to his check up this morning,” Haewon answered, unphased. “Yoojin was working.”

“Do we really think she’s working?”

“You are asking the wrong sibling. I have hundreds of years of law and politics to learn, I don’t have brainspace for what’s going on with Yoojin and she doesn’t have brainspace for me either.” He wasn’t sure if she sounded hurt by it. He’d never pretended to understand their relationship other than that they had not seemed close in years.

“Yeah, maybe mom and dad shouldn’t have saved all the brains for you,” Jungkook lamented.

“You got a few of them.”

“Yeah, a few brains,” he agreed, then ruined it by adding, “But mostly I’m raw physical prowess.”

“You can drop me off here and I’ll walk.”

“I mean athletics. Drumming, surfing.”

“Sure you did. Don’t sound too much like Yoojin.”

“Sheesh. Fine. You didn’t have to punch so low.”

“That’s what you said a minute ago!”

“Yeah I’ve got to keep you in line somehow. Me? I don’t need lines.”

“Everyone needs lines,” Haewon argued.

“Spoken like a future lawyer.”

He’d meant it as a teasing insult but Haewon seemed pleased. At least she was going to be one of the good, non-asshole lawyers. She didn’t have it in her to be an asshole. Yoojin he’d be afraid to see show up in court because she was unhinged, who knew what shit she’d say or do, she’d get disbarred and her client convicted within ten minutes. But Haewon was going to change people’s lives, whatever type of law she went into, he was sure of it, and then their parents could be proud of at least one of their kids. And Max. Max was going to grow up great. And Yoojin… well, she could still turn out good if she just got her head on straight. Once she’d been funny and smart and charming too, before she got too wrapped up in men and dabbled in drugs and now sometimes it was like she just didn’t care anymore.

“Maybe we’re being too hard on Yoojin,” he mused as they neared his parents’ apartment. “She’s not all bad.”

“Did you know she has you as ‘Kevin’ in her phone?”

“Kevin? Who the hell is Kevin?”

“You know, like the Minion.”

“What? Why would she do that? And why would you know that?”

“She sent me a screenshot of your texts and didn’t realize I’d see. She’s sloppy with evidence.”

“But why?” he demanded. That Yoojin secretly named him after a Minion in her phone was so much more insulting than if she’d told him to his face.

“Do I look like the Yoojin-whisperer?” 

“Ok, message received. Time to bully. Is Kevin even the cute one?”

Haewon gave him a baffled look and demanded, “Which Minion is the cute one?!”

“You know what, nevermind, I’m suddenly feel pretty unsafe.” 

She had pulled out her phone and was grinning, he didn’t know if it was at him or at something on her phone.

“Hey, what am I in your phone?” he suddenly asked.

“Oppa.”

“Oh. Really? Didn’t I used to be JK? What made you change it?”

“One of my friends thought you were hot and tried to get your number from my phone so I had to put it into code,” she answered without even looking up. “Since none of them are Korean, now they think I text my grandpa a lot.”

Jungkook had no way of knowing whether that was the truth or not, since Haewon was the only Jeon kid who had any real skill in lying and simply chose not to do it (often) for moral reasons, so he took her at her word and asked, “Which friend?”

Her baleful look made him laugh.

“I’m not going to do anything. I just want to know. Who thinks I’m hot?”

“Girls are stupid.”

“That’s ok, for girls to be stupid,” he argued. “I don’t mind stupid girls. It’s hot.”

“Oh my god.”

“I’m joking! I’m joking. She’d be your age, right? Bleh, I’m not interested in a nineteen year old.”

“I thought guys love younger women.”

“Haewon, listen to me very closely. If a guy my age hits on you, it’s because women his age are too smart and he’s hoping to take advantage of–”

“Yeah yeah I know,” she sighed. “Date your own age. Again, unless he’s 300 pages long about civil liberties and is literally a book, I’m not interested.”

“Good girl,” he beamed. “Ok here we are. Looks like no one’s home.”

“I know, Dad will be home soon and I’ll take his car. I’ve got my keys, you don’t have to wait. But thanks for the ride.”

“Call me anytime,” he said and waved her off, watching until she was safely inside the apartment before he pulled away.

Where did Jungkook go on a day like today where he had no responsibilities, no work, no pressing demands on his time? It was a total coincidence he’d gone through his full week of pools and had no lifeguarding shifts today. The options were endless really. He could head to the beach. He could dick around with drums or guitar at home, maybe try to siphon lyrics from his brain again. He could do something productive like clean or grocery shop. He should definitely hit the gym today but he could do that later, after lunch. Right now, there was laundry or literally anything else…

He tossed his keys and wallet down as soon as he was in the house, announcing his presence, feeling in a good mood about it because they’d know he got laid and hadn’t come home without him even having to say anything about it. Only Taehyung was home, eyes glazed over as he stared at PUBG on the TV.

Jungkook zoned out standing behind the couch, just watching, until Taehyung hit a lull and could split his attention.

“Hey, you want to join?”

“Fuck yeah. Let me pack up my laundry for later and get a breakfast bar– you want anything from the kitchen?”

“No, you wanna do my laundry for me?”

“I’m not touching your stuff, half of it’s dry clean only,” Jungkook pointed out. Taehyung was an avid thrifter, found some incredible stuff that way, and one time a shirt of his wound up with Jungkook’s laundry, utterly ruined. The fight hadn’t lasted long, but if Jungkook was the type to hold a grudge, he’d still be upset Taehyung had gotten so mad over something that wasn’t even Jungkook’s fault. It wasn’t like he’d taken the shirt that Taehyung had paid too much for and stuck it in his own laundry. 

But he didn’t hold grudges. Grudges made you old. Jungkook was chill –so chill he could hook up with a girl who’d dumped him and it didn’t make him feel bad about himself because why? It was just sex, the very definition of a meaningless good time. Like outside of trying to make a kid, it was the quickest way to feel good and chill out that didn’t require drugs. Empty balls, empty brain, full life as long as you could get some. And he could get some. Mara had called him up even though she’d said she wouldn’t again, so clearly he was the type of guy a girl kept thinking about.

Laundry packed up by the door so he wouldn’t forget to take it with him –laundromat and gym, big plans for the day– he grabbed a protein bar that tasted like a fool’s dream of cardboard but he’d grown to kind of like them.  

“All right all right let’s do this!” he cheered, jumping over the back of the couch to land beside Taehyung. On a whim, feeling good, he decided to text Mara during the matchmaking, to see if she wanted to meet up again later this week.

She’d blocked him.

With a sigh and shake of his head, he decided Haewon was right, Mara wasn’t worth his time anyway. He had other options. It wasn’t like she was that good. Plenty more fish in the sea and Jungkook was a good fisherman, when the weather was fair and the waters were calm. 

“You’re younger than I expected,” were the man’s first words as she shook his hand and welcomed him into the office. His name was James Alard, and he’d scheduled a meeting with Grace because he was interested in purchasing a new home in the Beverly Hills area. She had sold three homes in Beverly Hills already, but never been on the buyer’s side of a purchase there –whichhe ought to have asked but either didn’t think to or didn’t care. Grace deliberated whether to offer that information for transparency –it meant she wouldn’t classify herself as an expert in the neighborhoods there, but certainly she felt capable of it, it was nearby.

“So,” he said, leaning back in his chair, stretching his arms behind his head. “You do this full time or as a side thing?”

“I’m selective with the number of clients I take on to ensure each has the time and attention they deserve, and this is my career,” she answered, trying not to prickle at the question. There was just a way he asked it that annoyed her, it felt patronizing. It made her think of Tim, even though the guy didn’t look anything like Tim really, blond hair and green eyes and only a light natural tan to his skin.  

“I bet you’re good at it,” he mused.

“I like to think so, yes. I’ve helped many people find their home, or sell their old one ahead of a move or upgrade, on terms they’re happy with. You’ll see plenty of satisfied testimonials on my web page –and I have no hidden bad ones.” This was practically a script, but still he laughed as if it were just a personal joke she’d made with him.

“You seem like the kind of woman who knows how to close a deal on her terms.”

Grace tilted her head before catching herself, not wanting to read into anything he said. Was he flirting or just testing her to see if he should hire her?

“When we’ve found the perfect house, I don’t settle for anything less than the best deal,” she agreed.

He laughed, a not unkind sound, and sighed, “All right all right, I get it. You can lower your shoulders. Not interested.”

“Not interested in helping you find a house?”

“It’s just not every day you meet a good-looking, hard-working woman,” he explained. “It’s usually one or the other, and I just can’t stand those leech women who cozy up to the nearest wealthy man in the hopes they never have to lift a finger again.”

Grace’s eyes flickered with annoyance, but she answered calmly, “I work because I want to, not because I need to. I don’t know that characterizing any woman as a leech for marrying well–”

“You choose to work, see? So you get it. It’s not just women, I’d judge a man who sat around on his ass doing nothing too! I’m not saying we all need to head to the mines but what’s the point of being alive if you don’t live it with some hard work and sweat, right? Even if I had as much money as God, it wouldn’t make me lazy,” he said.

Grace was not sure what to make of him. In theory she somewhat agreed with this, finding purpose was good, but she didn’t think it had to be a financial return, if that’s what he was saying. Chasing any passion in life could satisfy. She was glad to have her suspicion he was flirting concerned and even for him to recognize she was not responding, but she wasn’t sure why he was still off on this tangent.

“Answer me this, what do you do for fun?” he asked her.

She cleared her throat and tapped her pen lightly on the table before redirecting, “Let’s sidestep back to what exactly it is that you’re looking for.”

“I thought I knew,” he said. “But I admit you’ve got me all twisted around when you walked in here. I’m looking for a house in Beverly Hills, as I said in my message. Something big enough for my two kids and I to be comfortable, but not so big it feels empty. I don’t want them growing up wasteful. Our old house –it’s too empty, too many bad memories.”

Well, so much for moving on from her lack of interest. You’ve got me all twisted around, yeah ok. 

“How old are your children?” Grace asked, thinking it a harmless question because it might influence what types of rooms or the layout of the house or whether he wanted a pool.

“Eight and twelve. Been widowed three years now and I thought it was better to stay where we were but it’s holding us in the past.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” she said. Widowed was a different sort of tragedy than divorce, and his children had been so young. 

“Thanks. It was hell, but I want my kids looking to the future now, I want to look to the future, and then you walk in here…”

She let out a sharp sigh and corrected, “Yes, a real estate agent, so let’s talk more specifics about what you’re looking for.”

“I didn’t know I was,” he said, and stared at her with a look that genuinely looked more longing than predatory, which was not what she’d expected. Grace could not for the life of her decide what to think about this. It wasn’t welcome right now, this was her place of business and she was trying to work. It was annoying and inappropriate, it didn’t matter how handsome he was. Maybe if he eased off and had met her in a different situation but he hadn’t so there, that was it. 

“For a house?” she asked, intentionally not taking that bait. “since you are specifically looking Beverly Hills, one of my colleagues who’s more familiar with the neighborhood would better be able to help you,” she said, rising from her chair now that she’d decided. No point taking on a client who made her even a little uncomfortable.

He stood as well and leaned forward, hand out, earnest as he suggested, “All right, if that’s better, no conflict of interest. Does that mean I can take you out to dinner?”

“I… I don’t think…” She was stunned to be so blatantly asked and glanced at her empty ring finger. In the past she could always make a dismissive joke I don’t think my husband would like that very much, because that tended to get a more immediate acceptance than trying to champion her own personal lack of interest. No ring this time though and she couldn’t stomach pretending to still have a husband.

“I know a great place. Do you like seafood?”

“I’m afraid I’m going through a divorce at the moment,” she said, instantly regretting it because this man didn’t need any of her life story. 

“So you could use a fresh start too. I promise I’m nothing like him,” he said. “I can’t say I’m entanglement free since I’ve got my kids but they’re great, don’t let that deter you, wonderful kids.”

“I… let me introduce you to my college,” she stammered out, and made for the door. “This is my place of work and it’s inappropriate and borderline harassment. I have not reciprocated your interest.”

The man quietly followed, not overly close which she appreciated. He behaved through the introduction and shook hands with her male colleague who seemed surprised by the generous hand-off of a potential client.

Before she left them to it, James Alard shook her hand and held it a bit too long as he apologized, “I’m sorry if I spooked you. I’m out of practice so I didn’t play my hand well, but I know a good thing when I see it. You have my email and my phone number. Please give it some thought and let me know if you’d be willing to give me another chance in a more appropriate setting.”

“Have a good day,” she said and couldn’t flee quickly enough. 

Without a client to meet, Grace dug through her inbox to find a replacement to reach out to, then browsed some listings and sent some suggestions to her current clients about open houses or things about to hit the market that might be worth their time. She found it challenging to concentrate with James Alard still down the hall; even once she saw him leave the building, she found her thoughts lingering.

Had he been inappropriate or opportunistic? Was it flattering for a widower to be completely agog at first sight of you, or patronizing that he was looking for a “hard working woman”? Love at first sight was all over the rom-coms but she did not feel like that was what had just happened –though objectively she had been so confused and unenthusiastic about the come-on while she was working that it wasn’t like she’d really given James a good look. If they had met somewhere else, would she have been so quick to dismiss him?  

Well, he was good looking, there was that. She didn’t disagree that having purpose was important –drive and ambition, within reason. Him having children of his own was neutral as far as she was concerned, unless he was a good father, in which case it was a plus. But she wasn’t exactly looking for a husband or commitment right now, which actually might mean it was a negative, especially if he was on the hunt for a new wife and a mother to his children.

Unwelcome advance, she decided. But he’d accepted the hand off without pushing his luck further. What if he was just a genuinely nice guy suddenly knocked sideways by a beautiful woman and it led him to be a bit out of pocket, but not egregiously so? Had that been egregious? Well, Grace had dealt with much worse come-ons. 

No, Grace decided by the time she headed home later in the afternoon. She hadn’t even cut ties with her old commitment yet, she was certainly not looking to engage with a new one. Getting laid would be nice but she didn’t want more than that any time soon and a widower with children was probably not a good no-string fling.

Would he be down for just that? She considered this in her car. He was clearly interested in her, eager. He’d been skilled enough and charming enough to get a woman to marry him, and it wasn’t like his marriage ended because he was a selfish prick or anything. Could he be an easy path to casual sex? What if that’s all he actually wanted too?

Maybe she just didn’t know enough to make a decision about this. She needed to see him in another situation. Maybe it was worth a reintroduction, just to see if the miss had been because it made her so angry to be hit on while working. She needed to understand if he was already rushing to the altar because he thought she was pretty or if he was just suddenly awake to his own desires at the sight of her which was ok, right? It was endearing if a guy was just flustered into stupidity, so long as it wasn’t a permanent state. 

Her phone rang, startling her out of her deliberation. She’d missed her mother’s last call so put it on speaker as she pulled out of the parking lot.

“Hi Mom.” 

“Grace, honey, hello. Are you busy?”

“I’m just driving home. Everything ok?”

“Oh yes, I just wanted to call and check on you and also, I just had coffee with Shirleen Eckle, do you remember her? Well it turns out she has a son a few years older than you who just moved to LA!”

“Uh huh. I don’t remember her. Interesting, mom. Is he looking to buy a house?”

“Oh no, he’s already bought a condo in Santa Monica, he sold his startup and left all that behind in San Francisco to start something new here. You’ll have to ask him what it was exactly, I don’t know, but I thought it would be a great idea if you met with him, maybe you can introduce him around to what society there is in Los Angeles.”

Grace’s mom had never made secret that she found the transient and fresh wealth of Los Angeles tasteless at best. She pitied all who moved there, though always had a fantastic time at the gyms and spas and shopping districts when she visited. Society was lacking, but “some of the foundations there are good, I know some good people who’ve been convinced to move there and made the best of it.” 

“Mom.”

“Yes?”

“Are you trying to set me up on a date?”

“Oh! No! No no of course I wouldn’t do that, you aren’t even officially divorced yet and I can’t begin to understand your taste in men,” her mother’s voice bubbled out of the speakers, every word making the lie more obvious. There most definitely was something pointed in her wanting Grace to meet Shirleen Eckle’s son. 

“Mom, I appreciate it, but I’m really not trying to start anything new right now.” She did not think the son of an acquaintance of her mom’s was going to be the right outlet for sexual abandon. Besides… a startup guy? Grace was sure there must be some good ones. Somewhere. She hadn’t met any though and hey, if she was going to make her own choices and set her own boundaries and be honest with herself, cutting out tech startup bros as a whole class of people she did not want to land in bed with seemed fair. No CEOs either, she’d met too many and didn’t think there could be a single good female orgasm to be found in their collective histories. If one convinced her otherwise, ok fine, but considering what an easy time her mom had following the rumor mill from half a country away, Grace knew for a fact she could not have meaningless sex with this Eckle guy.

“Of course honey, I understand completely, except you must be lonely. Aren’t you? You were with Tim for so many years and now you’re in that big old house all by yourself…”

“It’s not that old,” Grace insisted, longing to be there already. “It doesn’t look its age. It has character. You’ll love it when you visit. And no, I’m not lonely. I have Foam.”

“... The cat.”

“For now, yes, that’s enough. I get to do what I want, when I want, and I just have to make sure I’m home to feed him and give him attention until he wants to go chase ghosts by himself again. That’s all the attachment I want.”

“I just worry about you.”

“I know you do, and I appreciate it. But things are getting better every day. I’m through the hardest part now, I just have to get this divorce wrapped up and then I’ve still got my whole life ahead of me.”

“Well…”

“Mom…”

“No, I know you’re correct, honey, it’s just that thirty-five is both young and not young. You don’t want to miss something good coming your way just because you closed your eyes.”

“My eyes are open, I promise.”

“But you’re not looking.”

“Is being alone really the worst thing in the world? I think it could be kind of nice for a while. I got married too young.”

Her mom’s voice was loving and heavy and serious as she admitted, “I was married by twenty-one, you weren’t exactly a child bride! I just can’t imagine it. I can’t imagine that for you. I want someone taking care of you, that’s all.”

“Maybe someday, but for now, don’t worry about me. I promise. Now I’m hitting traffic and need to concentrate but trust me, I am going home to my beautiful house to make a shrimp scampi and drink some fantastic wine and it’s going to be a perfect night. Far, far better than any evening I had while married.”

“Well that’s because you married the wrong man, honey. The right man will change everything.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Love you, mom, bye!”

She hung up before her mother could say anything to annoy her further. It was sweet her mom was worried, she knew that. But obviously she wasn’t going to tell her mom the only thing she’d been thinking about lately was sex –not a thing to discuss with her mom, though probably she’d be proud to know Grace had taken pains to buy the toys to prevent future bad decisions! Even though they hadn’t prevented Tim. But they would prevent James and Matthew, she was sure of that! 

Traffic sucked but, like a divorce, once through it, things were better. They would be better. Her home looked inviting and cozy, more put together by the week. Foam  was waiting for her by the door, probably drawn by the vibrations of the garage door. The bottle of wine was chilled to perfection and the smell of food cooking as she let Spotify play whatever it wanted made her life feel very full. 

Did she want someone to slide his hands up under her shirt, swaying as they drank wine and cooked together, maybe bend her over the counter… Yes, sure she did. But then she’d be happy for them to go home and leave her to her space and privacy and things being just the way she liked them. She didn’t feel lonely right now in any way except sexually. 

Was that weird, that sex was so top of her mind lately rather than romance or companionship or emotional intimacy?  Was that a sign of divorce shredding her heart? But honestly, she didn’t feel shredded right now. In a way, she felt more whole and in control of her thoughts than ever before. A handsome guy blatantly came onto her and she was being very practical about what she wanted, whether she was interested. Picky, one might say, so she must not be too desperate yet. 

And outside of sex, what good was a man to her? Tim had never been a bit of good, really. Her life had become so much easier without him that it was impossible to remember what good he had ever contributed, and thus she missed nothing without him. She had plenty of girl friends to socialize with, who needed a boyfriend? It would just be nice to have a hand other than her own wringing pleasure from her body. Orgasms on her own were fine but they didn’t feel quite like what she remembered from her younger days, which she hoped was a lack of technique rather than some sad evolution of her sex drive over the years. 

It was normal to be horny when you’d been phoning it in on sex for years to convince yourself and your lying cheating bastard husband that everything was fine. It was ok not to want some close companionship when she’d been so completely betrayed and just wanted to support herself right now. It was perfectly healthy to be a woman in her mid-30s with no active sexual life to long for a good one. Regardless of what her mom said, thirty-five was not that old, and she would remind herself of that as many times as she needed to, because it was hard to remember sometimes. Tim had been ten years older than her and so often she forgot her own age. If you’d asked her, she would have said 40 without thinking about it but she wasn’t even 40 yet and it was time to reclaim that freedom to discover herself she had missed out on in her twenties.

Maybe it was even time to make some semi-reckless choices, chase what she was interested in just for the selfish thrill of it, not settle for anything less than her own happiness. 

Which right now meant she wasn’t going to call James, or Matthew, even though she had both their numbers now, nor meet with Shirleen Eckle’s son. 

But she was going to call Alicia and ask if she could show Grace the ropes for how to meet a safe, generous, clean, attractive guy who might be interested in showing a girl a good time, no strings attached. She didn’t want a widower to wonder if she was love at first sight for him, she just wanted to get fucked without worries or overthinking or expectations or risk of getting hurt or catching an STD or…

How do people do this beyond their idiotic twenties, she wondered, instantly backpedaling from reckless. You had to be willing to have some bad nights and mistakes and maybe a little chlamydia, was that right? She didn’t want a little chlamydia… Was she asking for too much?

Ok. Time to ask Alicia for help.

It was impossible to see beyond the first two rows of the bar; The Sand Bar had the stage lights way brighter than they needed to be. It was brutally hot because of them, even though the night had cooled off once the sun went down, and the ground was stickier, and the air smelled of salt and Malibu and weed. Jungkook laughed and shook his sweaty hair out of his face, smeared the beads of it from his chin and neck where they tickled in between songs. He’d been growing his hair out –for the look and to save on haircuts– but it wasn’t long enough yet to pull back, just long enough to drive him nuts. 

There was no way to know for sure if Grace had come, but he suspected she hadn’t. The small chance she had, that he couldn’t prove it because he couldn’t see beyond the stage lights, at least let him cling to the fantasy. Just for fun. He poured his heart, soul, and sweat into the drumming that night, did his best chatter in between songs even though he was often the silent mumbly type and let Taro and Yoongi handle the banter. He felt compelled to be his best, not only in case Grace was there watching, but also because Yoongi had put his foot down on Jungkook’s behalf and insisted they keep the Benson Boone song in the set when Taro tried to cut it right before, claiming it would make them run over. It wasn’t even the last song in the set but god fucking forbid they cut one of her favorites.

The song stayed. It brought the house down, Jungkook didn’t think it was too cocky in saying. It was at the height of radio play right now, and a slight departure from the rest of their set, just enough to catch attention and bring back any wandering interest. Drumming and singing lead was a challenge but he felt like he nailed it, felt the victory of it humming through his blood and buzzing behind his eyes and warming his ears. There was no high in the world like playing live music on stage except maybe the short ride of a killer wave, but that was over and done with so fast. He hadn’t been exaggerating when he told Haewon.

“Nailed it,” Jimin told him, clapping him on the back and handing him a beer as soon as he walked off stage. Jimin wasn’t the only one, there were so many hands and fluttery grins and a true throng of people who circled them once they hauled their personal gear off stage to make room for the next act. 

“Bet they regret not asking you to headline,” Taehyung said, which meant a lot to Jungkook and the others too, he thought. It certainly did to him, capped only by Yoongi clinking his beer against Jungkook’s and nodding,

“You fucked that song good. Glad we kept it.”

“Yeah me too. Stop trying to cut my stuff, Elizabeth,” he called over to her. She scowled and flipped him the bird, but a moment later draped herself over his shoulder.

“I admit it. It was great. It’ll be too played out for Flowerfest but you did good.”

“It’s too new to be played out,” Jungkook argued, even though it wouldn’t be on theme for Flowerfest anyway so he hadn’t been going to suggest it. “We should keep it in our set for a while.”

Soyoon nudged his arm and beamed, “I agree. Think you got quite a fan following, JK, why don’t you go talk to them?” She gave Jungkook a hard shove away from their group, towards several women who did in fact seem to be waiting to talk to him.

But for the briefest moment, he thought he saw Grace across the bar. It couldn’t be her… right? But it might be, he really thought so much that it might be her that he found himself missing whatever the closest woman said to him, just didn’t hear her completely, even though the next band was still setting up.

“Sorry, excuse me, I think I see a friend…” he muttered and walked right past them. Was that what Soyoon meant? But Soyoon didn’t know who Grace was. He felt a weird flip in his chest as he pushed his way through the crowd to where he’d seen her. It wasn’t really her, was it? She wouldn’t really come. 

Oh fuck what if she did come to his show. What if she’d just seen that performance for real? Thank fuck it was a good one! He could be proud of that. He hoped she’d be impressed. He hoped she’d lean in close to tell him how good he did, and he’d touch her arm to keep her close so she could hear him offer to buy her a drink and thank her for coming and say how great it was that she’d come. 

What did it mean if she came? Just that she wanted a night out, now that she was single? Maybe it would depend if she’d come alone or brought friends. If she brought friends, she just wanted to listen to good music, and he’d delivered. If she came alone…

He took several gulps of his beer as he reached the spot and looked around. She wasn’t here now. He turned and traced the path he’d taken, wanting to be sure they hadn’t just missed each other. 

If she’d come alone, he’d buy her a drink and slowly lead her out to the part of the bar that spilled into the sand, so they could have some more space and talk. He wanted to hear what she thought. Maybe he’d suggest a walk, if it seemed like she wanted to get out of there. No, if she wanted to get out of there… well, his place was closer but no way could he take a woman like that to his bachelor rental.

He was getting way ahead of himself. Grace hadn’t come to his show to start something with him just because he’d fixed her pool. At best, maybe she came to listen to music and flirt a bit. At best best, maybe they’d drink together for a while, get closer, at most he’d put light moves on her –unless she wanted to start something… but she wouldn’t. She wouldn’t start something with him. Unless…?

No, he was being stupid and hopeful based on nothing but beer and the adrenaline surge from coming off stage. He still felt the thud of the drum through his body and it made him want to feel a different kind of vibration, a more intimate collision. He craned his neck and looked around, trying to find her again, trying to ignore how ready and willing his body was to transition from stage adrenaline to beautiful woman adrenaline.

“Hi,” he barely made out as a hand lightly touched his back. He spun, only to be confronted with someone else, one of the women who’d been hanging out closer to the stage. Not Grace.

“Hi,” he returned. “Hey, did you see a woman around here, about this tall, like brown and blonde hair…” He trailed off, realizing he could be describing half the women in the bar. The woman looked confused and told him no, as if she couldn’t see half the women in the bar.

“Damnit,” he mumbled and stretched to look again, but he wasn’t seeing her now– oh! Wait, there?!

But the woman he’d spotted turned, and it wasn’t Grace, not even close. And now he felt more sure that’s who he had seen and gotten hopeful, confused. 

Fucking fuck.

Yeah, no, but of course she hadn’t come. This wasn’t the kind of place she would hang out on a Saturday evening. She’d said she would keep it in mind, not that she’d actually come. She was probably at a wine tasting or a steak house or a private club along the nice parts of the beach tonight.

He got the impulse to text her, tease her about missing the song. But of course he didn’t know her like that, they didn’t have that kind of familiarity, and he didn’t have her number. Well, technically it was in her file, but not in his phone. Sure, she’d put Neosporin on his cat scratches, but that was it. They weren’t a thing. Obviously they weren’t a thing, because it was Mara he’d bumped two days ago, not Grace.

Could Mara tell he’d been thinking about someone else when he closed his eyes? Now he worried, wondered if that was why she had blocked him afterwards. 

This was getting out of hand. He’d said before he needed to fuck whatever little crush he had out of his system and he was right, it needed to happen. If Grace had any interest in him, she would have come to see the show he directly invited her to. It had all only ever been in his head, whatever little flirtation he’d had with her, and now he was done fixing her pool so even that was done. He’d see her every two weeks to clean her pool and she’d leave some Cheetos out for him like he was a squirrel and that was that.

The woman was talking to him, he realized belatedly. He hadn’t heard a word. But she was attractive and tall and she had nice shoulders and long legs.

“Hey, do you want to get out of here?” he blurted out. Might as well make a move to get over his disappointment that Grace was in fact not the one here praising his performance.

The woman gave him a baffled look and said, “Um, no, as I was saying, I work for a clothing brand and I wanted to talk to you about some promotional outfits because your style is perfect.”

“Oh yeah, right, sorry, I meant so I can hear you better,” he flubbed a cover. “Why don’t you, um, email me? It’s hard to talk business in here.”

That seemed like the right thing to say, though he wasn’t sure she was actually going to follow through. Nothing worse than thinking a hot woman was hitting on you and realizing you were dead wrong. She was just trying to sell some shit. No, to get you to sell her shit.

Eesh. His ego needed a quick recovery so he wound his way back to his friends, one eye partially on the lookout for Grace but he was pretty certain by now he had imagined the whole thing. He wasn’t going to cry about it, but it was disappointing. She would have liked the show.

“My beer is empty,” he realized, holding up the empty glass he’d chugged through his embarrassment. 

“Buy me another!” Corri called, waving her hand at Jungkook.

He made a face and snorted, “Yeah right, you can come with me and buy your own.”

“Charming.”

“I’m not trying to charm you, make Taro buy you a drink.”

Corri’s eyes got really wide like he’d said something shocking or horrific, which he couldn’t figure out. 

Before he could think too much about it, Hoseok had draped his arms over Jungkook’s shoulders and practically shouted in his ear, “I’ll go with you!”

“Hey don’t hang on him,” Jimin scowled and grabbed Hoseok’s arm. “People are going to think you’re his boyfriend.”

“Then he’ll never get laid,” Taehyung sagely agreed. 

“At least not by the people he wants to get laid by… you’d do numbers in a gay club, you know,” Jimin told him, not for the first time. Which Jungkook was obviously flattered by, even if the thought of being intimate with a dick left him absolutely and utterly blank. It wasn’t even a recoil, it’s just that it was a dick, what was sexy or appealing about it? The only good thing about a dick was getting his own sucked or fucked. Probably he could give a pretty good handjob, he’d thought of that before because he was familiar with his own, but it wouldn’t be gratifying to him. 

Belatedly he added, “I did just get laid, so I don’t even care tonight. There’s more to life than fucking, you know.”

“Who’d you get laid by?” Jimin pressed, instantly interested.

“He spent the night with Mara,” Taehyung answered before Jungkook’s mouth even opened.

“How did you know?!”

“You always come back from her place kind of sulky.”

“No, man, that’s not true.”

Jimin and Taehyung both nodded though, and Hoseok, sliding off of him, agreed, “You do. Doesn’t seem like it’s very good sex.”

“That’s probably why you played so well tonight. Sexual frustration,” Soyoon teased, taking Jungkook’s empty bottle and setting it with others on a nearby table. “The worst kind, because you got it but the getting was not good enough.”

“It was sex! What’s not good enough about it?” But even as he said it, because he felt like he needed to defend himself, he also knew exactly what they were talking about. Sex with Mara didn’t feel like it counted. Sure, it was release, it was good in that sense. She was fine. He’d been satisfied at the time. Once he’d thought she was pretty good. It was better than masturbating and it didn’t require much from him since she initiated, but he wasn’t exactly broken up that she’d blocked him and there would never be another round. He’d been thinking of another woman during it anyway.

“I’m not sexually frustrated,” he argued, “and that doesn’t impact my drumming.”

“I think he drums better when he’s been well laid,” Yoongi argued, his only contribution. “He’s a little rushed when he’s frustrated.”

“Yeah, and I was fine tonight,” Jungkook agreed.

“A little rushed,” Yoongi beamed, then disappeared, clearly heading for the bar for another beer and then to make his escape to the outskirts, away from the crowd. That’s where Jungkook wanted to be too. He didn’t feel like talking about sex anymore; was that all they talked about?  

“You’re all assholes, I’m getting another beer,” he said, and turned to follow in Yoongi’s wake. Jimin grabbed the back of his shirt to follow along like a tug boat, Hoseok behind him, all of them letting Jungkook fight his way through the crowd to their benefit. 

*

Jungkook lost count of the beers and the time but he forgot his disappointment and just coasted on the vibes of a fun bar on a Saturday night. Eventually he was all laughter and smiles, easy-going, carefree, riding the high of a good performance and the handful of hot, flirty women it brought into his periphery. After striking out hard with the woman earlier when he was all distracted by the thought of Grace, he didn’t push for anything and mostly just stuck with his friends, but it at least bandaged his ego. See? Girls thought he was hot, even if Grace was unimpressed.

Damn, he wished he could impress her.

But he didn’t, and he really needed to stop thinking about her or it would turn into something pathetic like pining. He was not the kind of guy who pined. If something wasn’t working out, cut your losses and roll on. Pining led to disappointment and dissatisfaction and those things led to depression or drugs or both and that led to your family crying at your memorial every year.

What a relief that just as Jungkook started to get introspective, Hoseok jumped on his back and off they gallivanted to the sandy beach for an impromptu drunk volleyball game. Other friends had joined, Jungkook was surrounded now by people he liked, people he could just relax and have a good time with. Even when Seokjin accidentally hit the ball backwards, directly into Jungkook’s face, it was funny and it didn’t hurt too bad despite his watering eyes.

He took it as an excuse to collapse on the sand for a break. It was the kind of early summer night that had him sweating and shivering at the same time, a cool breeze tickling the sweat on his skin. 

Nearby a gaggle of girls were sitting, clearly drunk and loud. One kept looking at him; he wasn’t sure how long it took him to become aware of it, but she was drunk and slow to look away, and erupted into giggles when he nodded his head at her. Instantly he regretted it; she looked young, probably Haewon’s age, and the older he got, the older his lower age limit was. He didn’t understand guys who wanted to fuck girls who couldn’t even legally drink yet. Couldn’t be him. The last thing he wanted was some young giggly drunk college girl right now, just thinking about it made his dick limper than limp. Nineteen was for baby sisters. 

Two other women walked in front of him, headed towards the water, and his gaze was drawn immediately and entirely towards them and the way moonlight and beach lights glinted off their long dark legs. They had a confidence, an attitude to them; they had lived at least as many years as he had and he found himself drawn to that so much that it got him to his feet, walking after them to wade in the water a couple yards away.

He should just go over to them. He should flirt, be his best charming self. Ask if they’d seen the show, since they’d come from the bar. Lead the subject around to his drumming, see if they were into that, make a couple jokes laced with innuendo to see if they nibbled. If they did, it was an opening, an opportunity they’d be down to nibble something else later tonight, at least one of them. On a night like tonight, he could have good luck finding a new woman to fuck for a night, even if that’s where it ended. There was nothing wrong with a night of fun when you could string them together. Mara was out but he could find a new woman to enter rotation, yeah? Maybe one of those women, and he’d have a great time and so would she, and that was all that mattered. Some people in life had these over-arching purposes like Haewon, and others had purpose though a person or relationship like his eomma and appa, or maybe even Jimin and Hoseok because they’d been together for a while now, and the rest of them were just living life and having fun and fucking around and there didn’t have to be any bigger reason for it and he was cool with that! He didn’t need more than that and he wasn’t just saying that, he was satisfied. He could die tomorrow and he would feel like he’d lived the best life he could, given the circumstances. Sure, he could have lived better with a million dollars and no stress and a girlfriend, but c’est la vie or whatever. That was about all he remembered from high school French, which he had taken because there were more girls than the Spanish classes.

“Hey, aren’t you the drummer for the band earlier?” one of the women asked, suddenly noticing him.

He grinned, internally pumping his fist, and drawled, “Yeah… you ladies like the show?”

“It was amazing– oh my god, how old are you? You look really young,” one said and the fist pump turned into a shake at the heavens. 

“I’m twenty-six, damn, you sure know how to flatter a guy,” he snorted. They couldn’t see his body in the low light, probably only his big beady eyes that yes, he was aware made him look younger. 

“Oh my god, sorry, I didn’t mean it as a bad thing!”

Annoying. Women didn’t think he looked so young once he took his shirt off, but he had a youthful face, whatever. Old women loved it! Younger women didn’t mind! 

“I bet you say that to every Asian guy you meet,” he joked. “You need a new pickup line.” The woman who said it looked shocked, but the other one was unbothered and smiling at him now in a way that still looked like it could be an open door. He might be able to land this one, and end his night balls-deep in a hot woman who had seen his show and enjoyed it. He wouldn’t let his mind wander like he did with Mediocre Mara. That was a mistake. He shouldn’t have bothered with her just because she was easy sex, so he thought right now when presented with more challenging sex that would therefore be more satisfying. Probably. 

Besides, maybe his friends were right, maybe even Haewon had accidentally been right without even knowing what she was talking about: who wanted to have sex with someone you knew didn’t really like you? He was an easy lay for Mara and that was fine because it was easy for him too but… but something was missing. His friends were right, he was sexually frustrated. Mara was right too, she was too same-old for him. He needed someone new and exciting, someone who thought he was hot and cool and really admired him. It had been a while since he’d fucked someone new and exciting. He wasn’t the kind of guy who tracked the weeks any more than he was the kind of guy who kept a body count, but it had been too long. He couldn’t have told you how many women he’d been with if his life depended on it –which women had, and he made up a number based on what he thought they wanted to hear, but he always got it wrong in the end but he suspected they were usually looking for a way out by that point anyway. Which was cool, some people were meant for sticking or being stuck to and maybe he just wasn’t that person. The sticking kind. 

He really, really hoped that someday he would be somebody’s sticking kind and that it would be worth the wait. 

They were asking him about music, about instruments, about drumming technique. Jungkook smiled and nodded and flirted and ignored this weird part of his brain that kept tapping him on the shoulder. He didn’t want to hear what it said. He didn’t want to overthink this. He was cool, casual, slightly drunk Jungkook, he’d just go with the flow. The love of your life had to start somewhere, right? When you least expected it?

“So what do you do during the day?” one of the women asked. “Or is this your full time gig?”

Aw shit.

Jungkook wished desperately he had something cooler to say than the truth, and many a failed date slithered up to his shoulders, but he wasn’t the sort of guy who would lie for pussy. 

“I’m a lifeguard and a pool technician,” he answered with a confident nod. 

“Ohhh,” they said, almost identical intonation. This, this was the problem, and he refused to let it make him bitter but it was starting to make a dent. Women his age in this town didn’t want blue collar, they wanted white collar, or at least something sexy like I’m waiting tables because I want to be an actor or a model. 

“That’s … cool. You must like to swim.” He could feel their eyes slide down and then back up. 

“Yeah, I spend all my free time at the beach. I surf a lot.”

Sometimes that worked, but this time it did not. He could practically see their attention melting away.

“Cool,” one said. And Jungkook sighed. Honestly he didn’t even think he could salvage sex out of this, and there was definitely no budding romantic connection. Time to cut his losses and salvage his dignity. Which was fine, he’d had sex last night. If he was really eager, he could wander back to the stage and let a woman approach him and do most of the talking, that tended to work pretty well. Not for dates, granted, but if all he wanted was someone to go home with, it panned out sometimes. 

His friends cheered over the game behind him and Jungkook got the restless feeling in his gut that he wanted to be anywhere but right here right now.  

“Well I’m glad you both liked the show,” he beamed at them. “Hope you have a nice rest of your night.” He could see they were surprised by the abrupt departure but that didn’t stop him from turning and jogging over to jump onto Seokjin’s back just as the game was breaking up and demand, “What’s everyone doing? Where are we going?”

“Oh, aren’t you going home with one of those chicks?” 

“Nah, I want to hit the beach early tomorrow. We calling it a night or going somewhere else?”

“You’re going to surf in the morning?” Seokjin laughed. “Won’t you be hungover?”

“I rarely get those.”

“Damn. Youth,” Seokjin sighed. “You won’t see me.”

“I’ve got work,” Hoseok sighed and flopped down on the sand. “Why can’t I be a kept man?”

Jimin laughed and kicked his leg, “Why can’t I be the kept man? You’re more capable than I am, you have to work.”

“We could both be the kept man.”

“Oh yeah? Who’s keeping us?”

“I’d keep you if I could,” Jungkook said grandly. “If I had a million dollars, none of us would have to work and we could just live like this all the time.”

“A million dollars really isn’t that much money,” Soyoon pointed out. She hadn’t been playing volleyball; Jungkook thought she had already left with Yoongi and was surprised to see her saunter over now. “You could take everyone on like one nice vacation.”

“Ok, I’d do that then,” Jungkook decided.

“Awww are you drunk and sentimental now? Is that why you bailed on ass to come back and roll around with us?” Jimin asked, curling around Jungkook’s feet and trying to drag him down. Jungkook easily lifted Jimin up, making him flail and shriek with laughter as Jungkook spun him in a circle and then tossed him back down with Hoseok.

“‘I’m not sentimental, I’m restless.”

“Yeah so go fuck one of those women.”

“Nah. Maybe I should take a break from sex for a while,” he mused. “It’s getting kind of boring.”

“Sex is… boring?”

“Bad sex is boring,” Soyoon snickered. “Bye for good Mara.”

“We talk about sex too much, it’s not that great. It always ends the same way. Let’s do something else tonight,” Jungkook insisted. 

“You’re kind of weird lately,” Taehyung laughed, squeezing Jungkook’s cheeks together. “Extra weird.”

“Nah, I’m cool. Let’s go.”

“Drinks and games at home?”

  “I’m going to Yoongi’s to smoke, if you want to join,” Soyoon shrugged. “And I’ve got my car and I’m sober to drive so…”

Jungkook didn’t really want to do that either, but he couldn’t put his finger on what he wanted to do. Maybe he didn’t even want to be surrounded by people right now but he didn’t want to be alone either, so being with his friends seemed like the next best thing, and he didn’t really want to go smoke at Yoongi’s place but that’s where everyone was headed so hey, he’d go with the flow. 

Maybe Taehyung was right, he was being a little weird. Usually he didn’t bounce around this way. Even his own thoughts were bouncy. It felt like he was just trying to pass the time until something… but what? There was nothing coming up in his life. He had no plans. He had no goals. There was no upcoming vacation or party or anything like that. Flowerfest, but it wasn’t that big a deal. Why did he have that weird tingle of anticipation in his belly –which would have made sense if he was still flirting with the girls and hoping to score with one tonight, but he’d backed out of that. 

Sex with Mara sure hadn’t fixed it, so fine, he’d see if weed with Yoongi did instead. 

“Shotgun!” he shouted and tore ahead to Soyoon’s car, barely slowed down when Jimin jumped onto his back. 

Nothing like a Tuesday morning spent across a table from Tim to ruin every modicum of contentment Grace had worked on for the last few days. Her weekend had been fine but busy bouncing between social engagements, followed by a perfectly fine Monday of work touring open houses with a client. Busy was good, she was busy with the things she wanted to be busy with. More exciting than that, she had already secured plans for Friday night out with Alicia, with Alicia’s guarantee Grace would end the night “fucked out beneath a hot guy.” Grace was desperately clinging to that promise because honestly she just needed some relief. Bonus points if the guy could want her, crave her, just be really overwhelmed with lust for her because damn did her self esteem need it right now.

“This is the breakdown of assets we agreed to take to the judge,” Lidiyah evenly reminded Tim and his lawyer. Robert Butts had the unfortunate appearance of looking like a butt with a deep cleft chin and jowls and only a thin layer of buzzed black hair, and looking at him filled Grace with rage because he was an idiot lawyer –Lidiyah had said it many times– intentionally saying and doing dumb shit to drag this whole thing out because that’s what Tim wanted. 

“My client wants to revisit the list. He doesn’t think it’s appropriate to include assets for distribution that your client never interacted with,” Robert Butts argued. Grace looked at the sheet of paper they had highlighted things on –the pool table, the stair master, the TV from Tim’s man cave. Even the fucking dart board which couldn’t have been more than $250. The craziest claims though were the ‘66 Chevy Corvette Stingray convertible and the Mercedes Maybach EQS SUV, which he claimed were his and only his because she had never driven the Mercedes and the Chevy Corvette should be considered a gift for his 40s or at least only appraised at the original sales price because he was the one who had “funded restoration.” (With joint funds!)

Grace saw red when she looked at the list, but looking at Tim would make her even angrier so she looked at her watch instead. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how angry he made her. She wanted to look like she was unbothered, like she didn’t care, like this was just a waste of her time.

“That’s not what division of assets means,” Lidiyah said again. “These assets were purchased with joint funds, including the Stingray. It does not matter who touched what items in the house for how many seconds.”

Today was just supposed to be a chance to finally agree on the list and both sign it so it could be brought before the judge as part of the official divorce proceedings. Today was not supposed to be a chance to reopen the list and argue over every fork and spoon.

Grace tapped Lidiyah’s arm and leaned close to whisper, “As much as I hate this, I don’t care about this anymore, just give him the shit and let’s sign it.”

“Give me one week to fix this,” Lidiyah argued, just as quietly. “If we budge on this, it gives him space to reopen other things. I would almost have gone in on the TV and pool table but not those fucking cars. That’s ludicrous.”

Grace didn’t want to give Lidiyah even one more week, even though she completely and totally agreed it was ludicrous. What next, claiming all the funds that had come from sale of the house and were currently sitting in escrow awaiting settlement? She was ready to burst, sitting in the room with Tim never directly addressing her made her so angry. How had she ever been married to this man? She had to believe he had changed, surely she would never have been so stupid to love someone this petty and stupid and selfish.

But Grace trusted her lawyer and sighed noisily, “Are you really this hard up for money, Tim?” It was a well placed blow; he immediately began to shout at her and Robert Butts dove in to quiet him down. 

“The list has to stand,” she argued. “If you really want to open it up further, my dad is going to want to revisit that loan he made which has never been paid back and which I think funded your Bentley alongside your career.”

“That was a gift!” Tim shouted. “An investment, not a loan!”

Lidiyah gave Grace a look, clearly annoyed Grace had poked, but she couldn’t stop herself. It was in Tim’s best interest that he stop dragging his feet about this and get it over with quick. In fact, her father had wanted to go after Tim for the money purely out of spite as soon as Grace told him about the divorce, but Grace knew Tim would fight it and it would slow things down. Now, since Tim was slowing things down so badly anyway, her strength was starting to waver. 

“You aren’t going to find it called anything but a loan in any of the paperwork,” Grace mused, settling back in her seat. Tim’s rage made her feel stronger. See? She had more power over him than he had over her.

She didn’t like the person this divorce was trying to make her.

Fortunately the appointment didn’t last much longer; Lidiyah called a stop to it, stating this was a waste of her and her client’s time if Tim and his lawyer were not there to move things forward in good faith. They could send over a counterproposal for the asset allotment if they wanted, but if it wasn’t received in 48 hours, Lidiyah and Grace would send one over.

“Which you will like even less than this one,” Grace added before Lidiyah ushered her from the room. 

“Don’t bait him, Grace,” her attorney reminded as they headed out to their cars. “Let him make an ass of himself.”

“At what point is he holding me hostage in this marriage?” Grace argued.

“I know. We’re getting closer.”

“Seriously, how long can he drag this out? I know you want the principle of it and I did too but I’m reaching my limit. At some point I don’t care about the money, I just want it all to go away.”

“What you don’t want is him trying to open the prenup,” Lidiyah reminded.

“He can’t. It’s ironclad.”

“He can try and it’ll drag this all out further.”

“So he has all the power right now. He can keep me from escaping –I just want to be free, Lidiyah.”

“I know. We’re getting closer. Just hang in there a little longer.”

Grace was tired of hanging in there. She got into her car and pulled a safe distance away with a plan to scream, just to get the bubble out of her chest. 

She couldn’t go through with it. She couldn’t be as ridiculous as Tim. Instead she clenched everything way down tight and squeezed her eyes shut until she stars on the back of her eyelids.

It was bad enough, everything Tim had done, but she genuinely felt like this was worse than the infidelity. He hadn’t wanted her, so why the hell wouldn’t he let her go?She’d changed her name, she had a completely separate life and finances now, but she still had to dedicate brain space to divorce, time to these meetings, significant money to her attorney, and hey, you wanted to talk about principle, she had to still live with the knowledge she was legally bound to him right now. She had filed every paperwork she could making her family her beneficiaries, her emergency contact, her health care proxy. She’d taken every step she could to sever ties with him and yet he still had a chain around her wrist and she was about ready to strangle herself with it just to be free.

Her driving homeward was not the best she’d ever done but she made it unscathed, music up loud as she tried to drown out her own anger. She growled low in her throat as the gate took too long to open, then promptly shut up when it revealed JK’s truck parked in the corner. Well wasn’t that the last thing she needed right now, someone on her property who she didn’t want to be a bitch to right when she felt like being the biggest most outrageous bitch to someone because the small jabs at Tim were just not enough.

She couldn’t see him and tried to look casual as she turned her music down and waited for the garage door to open, but she hit the gas too hard and then the breaks too hard pulling in and the squeal of the tires definitely didn’t sound casual. She also hadn’t actually turned the music down as much as she thought because when she turned the car off, the sudden silence left her ears ringing.

Maybe she could sneak inside without him realizing she was here?

She leapt out of her car, yanking her purse so hard it sent the contents spewing across the floor of the garage. She clenched everything in her body so as not to scream, but instead it made her eyes prickle with the threat of tears. She emitted a choked scream instead, trying to hold it in and let it out at the same time. It hurt her throat.

“Hey, you ok?” JK asked from the driveway. She turned slowly, wanting to make sure she did not let any of this rage escape in his direction. He didn’t deserve that, just for innocently asking how she was at a really bad time. And he was so innocent, so kind, he’d been so nice and harmless and even supportive in the small moments her personal life had bumped against their professional relationship. He looked so sincerely concerned now, like he could see she was on the verge of going supernova.

“I’m having a bad day,” she said, hoping that would be enough. He took a step closer and it was too much because he was so handsome and nice and had never done any of the shit Tim had done, why couldn’t she have met and married someone more like JK, huh? JK wouldn’t act like this in a divorce, a divorce he had caused, she was sure of it, because he probably wasn’t the kind of guy who’d be screwing around in the first place. Or maybe he was! She didn’t actually know him or anything about him and her gut about men was clearly broken and couldn’t be trusted and she was going to ask Alicia to just point her to someone safe and that would have to be enough for the rest of Grace’s life because she could never go through this again. There had never been a golden time with Tim that was worth it now. It was not better to have loved and lost. 

“Ah, sorry to hear that. You–” He broke off whatever he’d been going to say when she covered her face. Probably he thought she was going to cry. She wasn’t. She was trying not to scream again. She wanted to throw a tantrum like a toddler, she wanted to hit and scream and punch something –preferrably Tim’s stupid fucking face.

“Here here here, punch punch,” he suddenly said, voice urgent as he dove forward. 

“What?”

He’d held his hands up and insisted, “Punch, really hard!”

“What?!”

“Come on, you won’t hurt me, just do it, punch.”

“I’m not going to punch you–”

“It’s just sparring! Boxing is the best way to get that feeling out. Come on, I can see you’re tense as shit, it’ll help, just punch my hand.” 

“I don’t know how to–”

He grabbed her hand, curled her fingers with her thumb out, and warned, “Your nails might hurt your palm but… seems like maybe it’s worth it… come on, right here, just punch.” 

“JK, this is…” But he had his hands up waiting, and the explosive rage hadn’t left her yet, and in the back of her mind she remembered the childhood guidance to punch a pillow or slam a stuffed animal against the ground if you were angry. Who had told her that? She couldn’t remember. Certainly not her parents; rage wasn’t allowed; there was no reason or room for rage in their privileged lives.

She hauled back and punched his palm, or rather glanced off the heel of his hand. He caught her hand, nudged it to the side, and said,

“Try again. Turn your body this time, not just from your shoulder.”

She followed his instructions, throwing another punch he easily caught. Her nails did dig into her palm a bit.

“Good, twist on your toes, keep your feet planted.”

She didn’t know how to punch. She knew she looked stupid as shit, but he didn’t laugh even a little, just caught her next punch, and the next. The thud of her fist against his hand felt good, good in a crazy way she couldn’t explain unless she was secretly a violent person and just hadn’t known all this time. Even the sound of it was satisfying. JK caught each punch until she’d done probably ten and her hands were hurting and she tried punching with the left one but over-balanced and nearly toppled to the side.

“Ok, body compression?” he asked.

“What’s what?”

“Uh… a really tight… hug? No? I don’t want to… overstep…” he said, hands up, eyes wide. 

“I don’t know, will that help me not murder my still not quite ex fucking husband?” she spat out without meaning too, because the punching had helped but now she felt like an active live wire rather than an imploding one.

“Yah, I hope so, I just finished your pool, you can’t go to jail before you even swim in it,” he teased. She wasn’t in the mood for teasing yet, but apparently this was her support system right now and even though everything in her head screamed at her that she should just go inside and kick a pillow and keep her feelings private and professional until they passed– when JK stepped forward with open arms, she stayed put to see what this was. She didn’t want to be hugged right now. If he hugged her or said nice things, she was going to have to work really hard not to scream and kick him in the shins. 

“Yes?” he asked.

“Ok,” she said, not sure what she was actually agreeing to. She felt wild with anger and frustration as his arms wrapped around her, tighter and tighter. He even adjusted her arms, pinning them against her chest between them. Then he squeezed tight, far tighter than was comfortable for a hug, so tight that when he leaned back, it lifted her from the ground. His skin was flushed and sweaty, which she couldn’t miss with her chin right on his shoulder. His t shirt stretched around his shoulder muscles as he squeezed tighter, so tight it would be uncomfortable to breathe, so she just held her breath.

She suddenly went limp in his arms. She couldn’t have explained it, but the tight hold pulled her tighter and tighter and tighter until suddenly her body just decided ok, enough, relax. She collapsed against him, so suddenly he stepped to catch her unexpected ragdoll weight. For one brief moment, her cheek pressed to his neck, his hands splayed across her back, and it felt like a normal hug –exactly the thing thirty seconds ago she thought would make her scream, but now felt warm and strong and safe.

When his arm dipped lower to hold around her waist, she realized this had turned into an inappropriate hug and that her pool guy was not the right place to be getting emotional comfort and also not the right person to see her throw a tantrum. She quickly stepped back, tripping over her own feet as her spaghetti-legs tried to firm up. He held her arms to keep her steady and gave her the sunniest, sweetest smile that had no place on a day like this. It was disorienting. 

“What kind of hoodoo magic was that?” she stammered out.

“Ha, did it help?”

Her arms and legs tingled. Her back buzzed where his arms had pressed into it. Truthfully, she wished he would hold her tight like that again, maybe he could squash her down completely, legs too. Why did she want that?! She couldn’t explain it.

“You looked like you needed to punch something and I was worried you’d kick your car,” he said.

“I’m not a violent person.”

“Your ex makes me feel violent too.”

“He’s trying to completely break me in this divorce, fighting with me over nonsense,” she admitted. “He’s holding me hostage. I just want to be done with it.” She felt the anger rising again, the frustration, the helplessness. 

“You’ve probably got a really good lawyer, right? You’ll be done soon.”

“I wanted to take the high road and instead he’s twisting me into this… violent, awful person,” she fretted.

“Eh, I don’t think that’s true. Needing to punch something is just like… that’s just physical, that’s just like fucking. You just need to get it out of your system when your body wants to… you know, uh… hey, want me to slash his tires?”

Grace stared at him, tugged all over by what he had just said. There was almost a kernel of wisdom in the first part, she thought. Maybe he was right. Fucking, punching, was any of it really that different from needing to go on a run or work out really hard? She needed the adrenaline out. Maybe that’s why her body had been so horny lately too, maybe she’d just been running too high for too long and her body needed to vent something besides tears. That would explain why her horniness had nothing to do with love or romance, she just wanted to get railed. Right now. If only–

“Oh my god you can’t slash his tires,” she gasped, the last bit catching up to her. 

“I was kidding. Mostly.”

“I’m serious, you of all people have to stay away from him.”

“Me? Why me of all people?”

“He doesn’t know you took the video and I have worked hard to make sure it stays that way,” she insisted. “God, the last thing I need is him coming after you.”

“Eh, I’ll be fine.”

She rolled her eyes and, impulsively, gave a hard shove against his chest that barely budged him as she scolded, “I’m serious, JK. I don’t need a misguided knight in shining armor. Don’t be like that.”

“What do you need instead?” he asked, eyebrow arched. Grace’s brain short-circuited. Yeah if you could just bend me over that patio table there and fuck me senseless, I think I’d be set for the day. His chest had felt hard beneath her palms, was that why her brain had leapt right there? 

“Why are you here today?” she asked instead. Then, considering it might have sounded excessively rude, she added, “Not that I’m not always glad to see you.”

He clapped his hand to his chest and laughed like he was playing along with a joke, and reminded, “I told you I’d be back to check your pool.”

“Oh, right. Need to show me anything?”

“Sure… want help cleaning up your stuff first?” he asked, and made to step around her. She couldn’t bear to watch him stoop to pick up her lipstick and kleenexes and keys from the ground though. That shit could stay down there, she was so angry at her purse for betraying her like that.

“Leave it,” she said, catching his arm, “I’ll deal with it later.”

“You might forget and run over your… diamond-encrusted lipstick,” he said, turning the tube over in his hand, the Swarovski crystal one her sister had given her for Christmas one year. Honestly she hated it, hence why it spent its days lurking in the bottom of her purse, forgotten. Jungkook popped it open and mused, “Bright red. That’s a good color.”

“I’ve never even worn it,” she sighed and grabbed it from hands to close it and tossed it back in the direction of her purse. She’d never worn it because Tim didn’t like that color, he thought it was too attention-seeking. “Whorish” was the word he’d used, actually. He liked darker shades which she didn’t think flattered her but she’d worn them anyway, trying to be the kind of wife who was adored by her husband. 

“Yeah and you never will if you run over it.”

“I’ve dealt with enough consequences for one day,” she sighed. 

“Ok ok. Need to punch some more?” he offered, hands going up.

She felt stupid to have let him goad her into that now. How silly. How immature. JK really just saw the worst of her all the time, didn’t he? It was mortifying, and now she felt her face heating up and a desperate urge for him to leave so she could be alone in her embarrassment.

“Just show me the pool please,” she asked, because she wasn’t sure how else to hurry him along. 

“You got it,” he said, probably thinking she was crazy. She trailed him across the patio and down the path to the pool, which looked like a heavenly oasis, sparkling under the sunlight filtering through the trees. Once there he turned to her and motioned with his hands like she’d won a prize. “Your pool.” When she just stared, confused, he admitted, “I didn’t need to show you anything about it. I just came by to check everything and it looks perfect. I did a good job.”

“You did a great job,” she agreed. “It’s beautiful.”

“Have you used it yet? Any concerns or problems?”

Her sigh was probably answer enough as she admitted, “No, I haven’t even gotten to use it yet.” 

“Well why not? You spent a lot of money on this thing.”

“I know, and you worked really hard.”

“Yeah,” he grinned. “I’d have been in this the second the pool guy drove away!”

“I mean to be, I just got… busy…” Busy maintaining social connections that were more important to her mother than to herself right now. Busy working on the house like she was in a rush to please someone other than herself. Busy trying to figure out a new normal that still somehow was not actually putting her needs first. 

“You’re right,” she said. “Why the hell not?”

 She then promptly leapt into the pool, fully clothed, one sandal dangling from her toes until the water swallowed her and carried it away. The water was cool, crystal clear, so clean she could see JK’s rippling figure leaning over the edge of the pool, staring down at her. She erupted up through the surface, her blouse and hair billowing around her. 

“You really did that, huh?” he laughed. 

“Yeah why not? It’s my pool, right? I can swim in it whenever I want.”

“Yeah.”

“Stop looking at me like I’m crazy,” she complained and splashed him, water arcing across his legs. “I guess I’m a little crazy today.”

“You’re not crazy. I worked fucking hard on this pool, I want you to enjoy it. Fully clothed? Ok, whatever you want.”

She didn’t know what came over her. Madness, recklessness, it didn’t matter. She splashed him again and demanded, “You come in too.”

“Me, huh?”

“You worked so hard on this pool. Come on in if you want. Or don’t! It’s whatever you want, JK. Do whatever you want. It’s a nice pool though, isn’t it? This pool guy I hired did an amazing job on it.”

She ducked under the water to push her hair back, wishing she had clipped or tied it today instead of leaving it down. She surfaced just in time for him to sail over her and land ass-first, sending a wave right into her face. She yelped and splashed back at him as soon as he surfaced. 

“I didn’t say drown me!” she laughed.

“Oh you can dish it out but you can’t take it, huh?” he shouted back, paddling his hands to spectacularly outdo her attack. 

“I can take it just fine, I–” she broke off as too much talking earned her a mouthful of water. They were like children, she felt juvenile and free and buoyant and couldn’t stop laughing long enough to clear the water from her nose and mouth. Suddenly he was gone again beneath the surface, the blue of his t-shirt and board shorts blending in with the pool tile. His dark hair stood out though, easily tracked as he surfaced right beside her, a hand sliding up her body to catch her arm.

Grace was not ignorant to the thrill that ran up her spine with his touch. She chalked it up to the crazy behavior of jumping into her pool fully clothed and inviting the pool guy to swim with her.

“What’s that? You’re drowning?” he asked. “I’m a lifeguard, you know.”

“I said you were drowning me–”

“I’ll save you!” he promised and caught her around the waist and dragged her to the shallow water. 

“JK!” she laughed, grabbing at his arm, fingers sliding across smooth, firm muscle. Damn. Did she curl around him playfully, just because she could? She did, grabbing his other shoulder, remembering how tightly he’d squeezed her not long ago. It took him so little effort to carry her along. His arms felt like warm, strong steel beneath her fingers. The water churned around the twist of their bodies.

She was pretty crazy today, but he was sort of a strange person too, constantly ignoring proper boundaries and behavior anyway, so maybe it didn’t matter!

“I’m not drowning you, your shirt is. Dry clean only?” he guessed.

“Oops yeah,” she laughed. He wasn’t wrong about either account; the gauzy material flowed around them, clinging to both their bodies, ballooning uselessly and transparently. She had wanted to look professional and perfect and proper at the meeting with Tim and for why? It didn’t matter at all. Now it clung too tight around her neck and shoulders and she tried to peel the ruffles off her skin.

“Need some help with that? I’m a lifeguard, ma’am,” he reminded, in such a low and serious voice that she burst into laughter. 

“Are you actually a lifeguard? They don’t sound like that.”

“Yes I’m– I’m actually a lifeguard,” he cried, suddenly so openly insulted that she doubled over. “I save lives!”

“How many lives have you saved?”

“So many, Grace!”

It was the combination, the fact that he’d shouted her name, the fact that he was insisting he was a life saver, the fact he couldn’t keep a straight face –she couldn’t stand it. Tears rolled down her cheeks, she laughed so hard as she battled her own clothing. At least her skirt was loose and less bothersome as it twined around her knees, unlike the shirt showing every ridge of her lace bra.

“So many!” she repeated. “Are you sure they aren’t just faking?”

His voice dropped again, lowered as his body rose from the water beside her, as he demanded, “Why? Why? Women don’t fake it with me. Don’t fake anything with me.”

“I would never,” she vowed, giggling nervously because he was suddenly so close. Women don’t fake it with me. Yeah they probably didn’t need to. JK seemed like the kind of guy who knew how to wring pleasure from a woman. “I meant faking drowning to get mouth to mouth from you,” she quickly clarified. 

“You think so?” he asked, cocky grin, lifted eyebrow, water cascading from glistening arms making her head spin as he pushed his hair out of his face. One of his sleeves had bunched up, showing off more of his shoulder and tattoo and one little very loud corner of Grace’s brain suggested lick the water off. Jungkook sank down on the step beside her and playfully demanded, “You need mouth to mouth? Nearly drowning?”

“Yeah, I might be drowning,” she mumbled without weighing her own words and leaned in without thinking of the consequences of her actions. 

He’d asked the leading question but she kissed him first, she was sure of it –as sure as he was that he’d kissed first, something they could argue about forever. In the moment though there was no first or second, only joined mouths and wet bodies suddenly pressed together as dripping hands pulled at drenched clothing and skin, tangled in hair with every caress. His fingers dug into her back, holding her so tight against his body she lost herself for a moment, lost her mind, lost all sense of time. Until the tug of her blouse disrupted her, tangled in the friction of their bodies until the neckline was chafing her neck.

“Wait, wait,” she gasped and instantly he sprang away. It gave her just the space she needed to grab the ruined fabric and try to wrestle it up over her head, where it tangled in her hair and around her ears. It was his hands that unhooked it, slid it free, and threw it to the ledge of the pool. She reached for his shirt too, then stopped her fingers just as they gripped the fabric. No, oops, too far, too fast. 

He kissed her again in her moment of hesitation, and murmured against her mouth, “You want it off, take it off.”

So she did, eyes blatantly ogling as he helped her drag the shirt over his head and send it arcing through the air as well. So much naturally sun-kissed skin wrapped around her as she slid her hands up his shoulders, his dipping around her waist, pulling her flush against him again. It felt like his skin radiated sunlight, she could feel it rising through her palms and washing through her body. His fingers burned wherever they touched her, his lips dragged away all thoughts of breathing.  

Should she stop this? 

She should stop this. 

She couldn’t stop this because she didn’t want to stop this.

His mouth pulled the sweetest sigh from hers, and his arms were so warm and tight around her, and frankly her body was on fire right now, held together only by him, like he had compressed her earlier and now unraveled her. She didn’t want to stop this. JK’s thumb tilted her chin up so his lips could trail down her throat and all she could do was wrap her legs around his waist so the water would stop dragging them apart and moan at what it felt like to be desired. It had been so long since anyone had grabbed her like this, kissed her like this.  

She swore he called her beautiful, swore he nipped the word into the skin of her throat as she let her head fall back. His fingers dug into the flesh of her hip and thigh, exposed by her floating loose skirt. She didn’t know if he was trying to pull her but she ground against him anyway, seeking the friction her body desperately wanted. 

He moved higher in the pool, dragging her into his lap until they became a tangle of arms and legs, lips clashing, needy sighs churning around the water.

“Hey,” he said around the kisses he didn’t seem any more eager to stop. “Hey, hey.”

“Hmm?”

He made a noise somewhere between a hiss and a groan as she rocked her body mindlessly against his, only this time angled in such a way she felt him between them, felt his body’s response to all of this. She wanted that, wanted it so badly that the only thing she could think to do was rub against him again, grinding the ache between her legs against his hardness.

“Hey, baby,” he interrupted, and this time lifted her, holding her above his lap in the water, his fingers digging into her thighs. Getting called baby by this smug twenty-something was as disorienting as the realization she may have just gone too far and made a fool of herself.

“Oh god, I’m so–”

“How far do you want this to go?” he asked her, and licked his swollen lips, chest heaving. He stared at her with dark eyes burning in a flushed face.  

All the way. All the fucking way, she stopped herself from screaming. Her palms burned on his shoulders, her body ached for him, for fulfillment, for release. It had been so long since someone had done it for her, something more than the easy underwhelming release of a vibrator, and here was the hottest man she’d ever had her hands on holding her by the bare thighs asking her what she wanted and she didn’t trust herself to answer that she wouldn’t sound like an idiot. 

She felt the shift as he started to lower her to the side, as he kindly suggested, “If you need to think about it we can–”

“I don’t know how to say it,” she admitted with a nervous smile, aware that something important dangled by a thread right now and she may not be smooth enough to pull it off.

“Say what?” he asked. His expression immediately shifted into a smile. His muscles twitched as he changed direction, pulling her closer again –but not quite, not close enough. “Just say it.”

“I…” It was mean, this teasing. He knew he was teasing, she could see it in his face, could feel it in the way he pushed her away again, sliding her back and forth in the water. Taunting her. It made her want to kick him. It made her feel crazy. It made her want to bite him and kiss him harder and latch on so he couldn’t push her away until she’d had her way with him, until she was left spent and exhausted on the edge of the pool.

“You look so shy,” he teased. “It’s cute. No one’s ever made you ask for it before?”

“I guess not...”

“Ha!” He threw his head back. “I knew it. Pretty girl used to getting what she wants, when she wants it.”

“That’s not true,” she scowled. 

“Never has to ask to be dicked down. Well you have to ask me,” he said, pulling her close, so close she could almost press against him. She was hungry for him, but not sure about this power play, this bossiness. He was in her pool, and it wasn’t like he wouldn’t be getting something out of this. He knew she’d just got out of a terrible marriage where she did not get what she wanted, when she wanted it. He had to know she was wildly out of practice in the art of seduction and had no clue what she was doing and hadn’t even been properly fucked in years. 

“If it’s such a favor I have to beg then–”

He yanked her close and this time ground himself against her, nearly making her eyes roll back as he breathed into her ear, “I want you so fucking bad, but I’ve held off this long so I can wait as long as it takes for you to really want it.”

Was he lying? Did he mean that? How long? If he was just saying what she wanted to hear, she didn’t care. He was playing his part perfectly.

“Stop holding back,” she insisted and slid her mouth along his jaw and nipped at his earlobe. His fingers dug painfully into her ass, dragging her across the hard ridge in his board shorts. She heard his breath stutter in his chest and thrilled that she’d be affecting him this way. It didn’t matter if she was one of a hundred women he’d spoken to like this, she had him worked up in the pool, she had him hard and wanting, and her body thrummed with anticipation. She refused to be intimidated by his little display of dominance.

“Come on,” she teased this time, grinding again. “If you want me so bad.”

“But what do you want?”

“You’re so mean,” she complained, and bit his ear, wishing he would just do it already. “A bully…”

“I’m a bully?” He grabbed the fabric of her skirt suddenly and rocked more quickly against her, both of them groaning at the contact even though it felt too sluggish, too muted by the water to be just right, but so close. “You’ve got me ready to bust in my board shorts, you’ve got us both aching, all because you’re too proud to admit you want to be fucked by the pool guy.”

Was she too proud? Pride wasn’t the issue. Fear was holding her back, it would keep holding her back from every opportunity that crossed her path if she kept being like this. If she wanted a safe man for her first time, JK was as good as it was going to get. He’d already seen her shame, would it be ok for him to see her need to? Could he be trusted with yet another secret? He hadn’t held the others against her.

“Please fuck me,” she gasped. “God, I just want to be fucked. Will you?”

He kissed her hard as he pushed her through the water, so hard she saw stars before she could catch her breath, not until the ledge of the pool pressed against her back. His mouth was hungry against hers, like she really had turned the key to unleash them both. She grabbed his head to hold him steady, to kiss him back more, but he escaped and kissed down her throat. He lifted her higher, further from what she wanted, but the complaint died on her lips as he pushed her bra up and sucked her nipple between those kiss-swollen lips of his. His tongue flicked, leaving her distracted and not expecting his thumb to brush along the center of her underwear. The water lapping against her stomach confused her mind, made it feel like she had two bodies each being worked. His wet kisses dragged along her chest to her other breast, she felt every lick and suck and swirl of his tongue around her nipple pebbling from the cold exposure. She also felt every single stroke of his finger as it slid underneath her panties and pressed around her clit.  

“Oh god,” she gasped and slid her fingers into his dark hair tickling her chest, her body shuddering. He rubbed circles between her legs and sucked at her nipple and she felt sure she’d cum before he was even in her. If so, she wouldn’t say anything. She didn’t want this to end so soon. Everything he did felt good, everywhere he touched felt alive and electric in a way she did not ever recall feeling in her life. When his thumb circled her entrance and then sank in, she made a noise that had him chuckling against her chest. 

“It’s just my thumb,” he teased. “Think you can handle the real thing or you going to cum too soon?”

“Well sorry, one of us is a little touch-starved…”

“Are you kidding? You think I’m not starving right now?” His mouth was impossibly sloppy up her throat, up to tongue her earring, and then slide down to her mouth, trails of saliva and pool water everywhere making her skin rise in goosebumps. She gasped and rocked her hips against his hand working her to the edge, twining her arms around his shoulders to give her leverage. He could totally make her cum this way. Was that pathetic? 

His hand suddenly pulled away, leaving her reeling. She knew it showed on her face. She just stared at him, confused for the second until it was clear he’d pulled away to drag his boardshorts off –completely off, tossed to the edge of the pool as if he had no problem being bum-fucking-naked in her backyard. That drove her wild, for him to be so casual about it. Inspired, she unclasped her bra and tossed it aside, then dragged her panties down. He took them from her and threw them far away into the yard, grinning cheekily as he did so. When she reached for her skirt though he stopped her.

“Leave that.”

“Why?”

“Leverage,” he said, and bunched the fabric up by the waistband and used that to yank her close. Her naked chest against his, cold water against flushed skin, made her gasp. Oh shit. Oh shit, fucking JK in the pool, she wasn’t even drunk, what was she doing?

But she wanted this, wanted it so bad she didn’t care about the consequences, wanted it so badly she reached down to take hold of his cock herself and stroke. The moan that rolled from his chest delighted her; he kissed his next moan into her mouth, tongue dipping down to tangle with hers. He was naked, he was so naked and all wrapped up with her and Grace was somebody else right now, living an impossible fantasy.

“You got a plan for that?” he asked, taunting her as he slowly thrust into her palm. She wrapped her other hand around him too and dragged, trying to get another moan from him but driving herself crazy instead. She wanted that, she wanted it in her, her heart thudded up high and down low and anywhere but her chest, she felt wild with desperation to be filled by him. She tried to pull herself close enough to impale but the water was clumsy to move through, more resistant than she thought, and she found herself continuing to clench around nothing, longing for his thumb, his pinky, anything. But preferably the hard cock filling her hand.  

Her back hit the edge of the pool again. He kissed her again, distracting, but not enough that she missed his fingers gripping the insides of her thighs, lifting and pressing them apart, leaving her so brazenly open for him and yet modestly hidden beneath the water. She guided his cock, rubbing the hard head of it against her clit, rocking her hips until she got him in just the right place and he sank slowly into her. A groan rushed from his chest and she devoured it, tightening her arms around his neck as he began to move into her, slowly pressing deeper and deeper, pinning her against the wall of the pool as his cock spread her –but not deep enough, she needed deeper, she could feel how shallow his slow, encumbered thrusts were. 

“Stupid water,” he murmured, dropping her thighs to grab her ass instead and pulled her but his hands slipped. He grabbed the fabric of her skirt instead and yanked. His body bucked as if frustrated, his breath sounding like a desperate pant, and that made her feel even wilder, because this already felt so good she wanted to scream and he wasn’t even really getting to fuck her the way he wanted to, the way she wanted. 

“Stupid water,” she agreed, and tried sinking her weight into him. It got him deeper, deep enough she finally felt full and she groaned into his shoulder. She slid her feet around him as he moved her away from the wall, not sure his plan, but forming one of her own: she lifted from him, then used her feet on his ass to drive herself down again. He quickly caught on and matched his thrust to her rhythm. It felt so much better, she felt so full and snug that she wasn’t even embarrassed by the satisfied moan that rushed out around his lips. Their synchronized rhythm, the full press and slap of their bodies against each other, even the twitching of his shoulder muscles beneath her forearms were enough enough it was more than enough. 

Then he carried her up to steps so that she was mostly of the water and suddenly the jolt of his body fucking hers was much, much stronger.

“Oh my god,” she yelped with surprise when the kiss of water was gone, and she felt her full weight held aloft only by his arms. This time when his cock pressed into her, she felt it in ways she had not realized the water was muting. 

“Fuck, there,” he groaned. His hands slipped around her thighs and ass, fingers grabbing all over, looking for the right grip on her slippery body. In a stroke of genius, he hooked his elbows beneath her knees, and for a moment held her aloft and fucked into her so hard she screamed.

“What! You ok?”

“Oh my god,” she gasped. “Oh my god, do that, do that more.”

“Oh that was a good– yeah–” She couldn’t believe it, him holding her like that. Without having to support her own weight all, it left her free to just take it and holy shit. She grabbed his shoulders and tried to press down into the rapid thrusts and wailed into his neck. He fucked harder, faster, fingers digging for traction, holding her tight so she couldn’t run away from her own building pleasure.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” she gasped against his neck and curled around his body and stopped making any noise at all as pleasure erupted from the drive of his cock all the way up to her scalp. A cry chased the silence as her body spasmed and jerked against him, unsteady, out of rhythm, her body reeling with the shock of orgasm, her vision blooming with impossible colors. She sounded like a woman drowned as she gasped for breath and felt like she couldn’t catch it, couldn’t find traction to hold onto him with her wet hands and feet, couldn’t re-solidy around the steady thrust of him into her humming core.  

He must not have realized it because he didn’t ask if she’d cum and she didn’t volunteer the information and he didn’t stop. He wasn’t done and she didn’t want to be done either, she wanted more. It was just the prelude, she understood from her body. She’d never been a two-time kind of girl but she was lost in him right now, wrapped up in this impossible scenario being fucked by JK in her brand new pool, and she’d hide a dozen orgasms before she asked him to stop.

At first when he moved she feared he’d realized and was stopping before she’d got to see him cum.

“Don’t step,” she begged.

“I’m not stopping, don’t want to drop you,” he panted out. Her disappointment was short lived when he sat his bare ass on the side of the pool, her bundled in his lap, his hands now free to roam her body as she took over and rode him hard enough she could hear the softest whine in his breath. The angle of his cock was just as good here, when she tilted her right hip just a little it made her see stars with such strong pleasure that she lost the rhythm just as he was synchronizing his pulls with her. Their bodies were slippery, she couldn’t get the right angle and rhythm back and so just sank down on him deep, as deep as she could take him, and gyrated. It was the perfect moment to catch her breath. Her hands slid up and down his body, finally free to touch the muscles she’d worked so hard not to notice before. She kissed his mouth and chin and his ear and was rewarded with him briefly holding her still, panting against her neck, hands clenching against her skin. She thought he was cumming 

He grunted some series of words she couldn’t understand, completely incoherent. She decided to be bratty and bit his ear as she jerked herself harder down on him. He pulled her off and slid back onto the steps of the pool, which she thought might be a punishment, but instead he gripped the twisted drenched fabric of her skirt and used it to drag her to the edge. She would have liked to see the water lapping at his ass, it wasn’t fair he had his cock out in her pool and she couldn’t really see but he wouldn’t stop kissing her and she wouldn’t stop it either.

“Your legs go so wide,” he grinned against her mouth, pushing them further and dragging her closer to the edge as he shoved his cock back into place. 

“Yoga.”

“Fucking yoga,” he groaned, leaning his weight onto his hands behind her and pressed deep. The angle was a little awkward but she loved the bulk and surround of him, the way his muscles flexed to support his own weight over her, the way his hair dripped water down onto her heated skin. She pushed herself closer to the edge to fix the angle. Groans rose from deep in her throat when he dragged her even closer by that damn sexy wet fabric, so close to the edge she thought she was going to slide right into the pool, held at bay only by his hips pressing against her, his cock pressing her to safety. 

His hands hooked under her knees, holding her wide; she caught herself with her hands to keep from falling backwards and his eyes dropped immediately to her tits, now pressed towards him. The slight distance gave her an eyeful too, of his tanned torso, taught muscles, the thatch of hair above his cock as pumped inot her.  He was so hot, every muscle of his body flexing, his lips pursing with the effort. 

“Oh god,” she murmured, feeling her body pull in tight around that thick intrusion. No, this was worse than before –worse in a good way– because now he had the leverage and freedom he had not had when trying not to drop her. Hard, hard, fast, so fast her breath hiccuped in her chest and her mind spun circles and she dug her nails into his shoulders to hold herself in place because it was the only help she could offer for her own undoing as her feet bounced in the air and the water churned around his thighs.

Suddenly he pushed her back onto the concrete and crawled over her, her knees still over his arms which slid down to cradle her, folding her, leaving her helpless beneath the frantic drive of his cock.

“Oh god, JK–”

“Yeah, pretty girl, scream, let me hear you cum,” he panted against her hair and she didn’t even mean to unleash it but it snuck out anyway as his relentless thrusts shoved her headlong into a second orgasm. She jerked and twisted beneath him but he held her in place, driving in faster, she thought, sloppier, until his stern expression crumpled.

He yanked out of her grasp and out of her body and stretched to the side to pump himself, cum shooting across the edge of the pool, then dribbling down onto his thigh. Without a thought in her head and barely any air in her chest, Grace reached out to smear her hand across the mess on his leg, her other hand gently rubbing her own clit to soothe herself back together. 

“Are you still–” he started and slid his hand underneath hers to take over the task.

She twitched and flinched and gasped, “No, soft, soft, I’m… I’m done, I… I…” His hand slowed, brushing gentle and slower circles over her clit until he was still, such an intimate and soothing hold. She relaxed completely, boneless. His eyelids seemed heavy above his smile as he flopped onto his back with a satisfied groan, spent dick draped across his hip. She curled more modestly onto her side and waited for the heady rush to settle so she could think straight. She didn’t think she could even sit up just yet.

For several minutes they just lay there. Slowly she returned to the silence of the neighborhood, to the distant sound of cars, to the bubbling of the filter in the pool.

She ought to say something. She felt like she should. 

“That was…” she tried.

“Yeah,” he agreed.

“Amazing.”

“Fucking amazing,” he said. Their sentences were all twisted up and they shared a chuckle. “It’s harder to fuck in the pool than you realize.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. 

“Easier if you wanted to be fucked slow but you wanted to be fucked, right?”

“I did.”

“So I was determined,” he said with a chuckle. “You asked so nicely.”

She shoved his head playfully but he caught her hand and deposited it on his chest. It was uncomfortable on the concrete though –rough, hard, hot, all sorts of things Grace had been oblivious to when letting JK screw her on it. Slowly she sat up, arms crossed over her naked chest as she looked around the yard. She had no idea if neighbors could hear or see them. And he was still so naked, sunning himself on the side of her pool, his feet in the water, full gorgeous body on total display.

In admiring him though, she saw too now the bloody scraped knees and one of his shins. His elbow too, one arm draped lazily over his forehead.

“Oh my god, you’re bleeding!” That was easier to comprehend than that JK had just fucked her through two orgasms in her pool.

“Huh? Oh, just my knees? Yeah, it’s fine. You’re not scraped up are you? I tried to keep you off the concrete–”

“I’m so sorry–”

“Clearly didn’t bother me,” he grinned at her. “I’m cool with a little pain mixed in.” She stared at his face, startled, stunned this had happened, and torn between that shock and the desire to slide up against him again and kiss more. He’d protected her from the concrete even while fucking?! Her bar for guys might be low, but that was incredibly sweet.

“Can I get you the first aid kit and an ice pack or–”

“Nah, it’s fine. Seriously, I’m a surfer, I’m always roughed up for way less satisfying reasons than… that.” He pushed himself up to standing, showing off a muscular ass which she denied the unbearable urge to slap as he untwisted his shorts and wrestled them on. It prodded her into motion: adjusting her skirt, tidying her hair. Her blouse was too tangled so she only clasped her bra back into place and looked down at herself and failed not to giggle.

He held his hand out to help her to her wobbly legs and laughed when she actually did teeter and had to grab onto his arms.

“Damn,” he beamed.

“Don’t get cocky.”

“Kinda think you like me cocky.”

“Bully,” she glared but couldn’t sustain even the pretense of it for long. She felt relaxed. At peace. Heavy and lazy and all kinds of wonderful things. This morning was a hundred years away. She wanted nothing in the world except a nap. 

He’d been watching her face and when she looked away with embarrassment at whatever dumb emotion was to be found there, he just playfully tugged the strap of her bra. 

“Well…” he drawled. “If you have no other questions or concerns about your pool… I really hate to fuck and run but…”

“Oh my god, seriously?” she laughed.

“I have three more pools to clean today…”

“What! JK,” she cried and laughed and gave him a playful shove. “Oh my god, you’re still on the clock… why didn’t you…” The look he gave her was answer enough. He wasn’t going to say no to pre-lunch sex when it fell into his lap. When the woman begged for it the way she’d done. 

“Where’s my shirt…” he murmured and found it and wrung it out over the pool before dragging it down. She saw some scratches and rubbed pink skin. It was a crime to put his shirt back on and cover all that delicious warm skin. 

He grabbed his bucket from the corner and she just watched as he scooped up some water and dumped it over the puddle of his cum. He gave her a playful grimace about it, then laughed at himself and ran his hand through his hair.

“Well, uh. Hope that was satisfactory.”

“It was.”

“Hope your day goes better,” he said. Grace wondered if he was waiting for her to say something. She had no clue what to say. If she said a single word, it would break the magic of this and she’d discover she had just slipped and hit her head in the shower and dreamed this whole thing up. She’d say something stupid and ruin whatever illusion she had cast to get JK to bang her on a Tuesday morning. She wanted to just savor this satisfied feeling.

Damn, she needed to buy some lounge chairs to sink into beside the pool. There was nothing, she had to just untangle her blouse and retrieve her underwear as he hopped into his truck. She waved as he turned around in her driveway and headed out. but didn’t see if he noticed or waved back. 

Instead she had to stupidly gather her things from the garage floor so she could get her house key to even get inside, where the air condition made her teeth chatter. Despite being soaked, she sank down on the living room couch and pulled the throw blanket around herself because she still didn’t quite feel like she’d come down from the high and she just needed a moment more to catch her breath because her knees were still knocking together.

Damn. 

Chapter Five | Masterlist | Chapter Seven

[cyberwulf]

Jamie is a Shameless Flirt, pt 2

prev

James took a deep breath and let it out slow, then lifted the videophone receiver and slowly punched in Professor Oak’s number.

He didn’t have to wait long.

“James!” The professor greeted him with a smile. “I was hoping you might call.”

“…Professor Oak.”

“I told you, call me Sam, please,” the older man chuckled. Behind him, Meowth leaped gracefully up on the laboratory bench and glowered in James’ direction.

“…Professor,” James replied. He launched into the speech he’d rehearsed after Meowth outlined all the reasons dating the man was a bad idea that guaranteed a bunch of wacky shenanigans everyone could do without. “Listen – I was a teeny bit sloshed, and I was in drag, and Jamie’s just a character I like to have fun with, so –”

“…Oh.” He winced at Professor Oak’s disappointed look. “Well, that’s too bad. I was hoping to get to know you better over dinner…”

James forced a laugh. “Well, there’s only one place in town, and I work there…”

“I was thinking more along the lines of Viridian City,” Professor Oak continued. James straightened at that. Dinner someplace fancy? Behind the professor, Meowth frowned and shook his head furiously at him. “But since you aren’t interested…”

---

“Are you out of your mind?”

Jessie pulled a face at him across the kitchen table. “Professor Twerp? Isn’t he a grandpa?”

“Sam is a gentleman who sees a lady home safely,” James retorted haughtily, taking a sip of coffee. He arched his eyebrow and gave her a sidelong glance. “Unlike certain rude little boys who unceremoniously eject their guests because they can’t control themselves.”

Jessie turned bright red. “You were the one who made her all sexy!” she hissed. She crossed her arms and scowled. “I can’t believe you’re going through with this. You can’t possibly like him.”

“I don’t have to like him,” James shot back. “He’s taking me to dinner, Jess. I’m going somewhere nice to eat a meal I didn’t cook.” He nodded at her girlfriend, currently folding laundry on the countertop. “Delia knows what I mean.”

“Yeah, where’s he taking you, the Early Bird Special?” Jessie asked sarcastically. “I will bet you ten – no, I’ll bet you twenty Pokébucks you’re home by eight with a cup of hot cocoa.”

“I’ll happily take twenty dollars of your student loan money,” James laughed. “Have it ready next Saturday morning.”

“Jessie? Sweetie?”

Both former Team Rocket members looked up. Delia hadn’t turned around, and when she next spoke, her voice was strangely flat.

“Could you take these clean clothes upstairs for me? I’d like to speak to James alone.”

Jessie and James exchanged glances before Jessie rose and took the basket of laundry out of the room. Once she was gone, Delia turned, leaning back against the counter as she crossed her arms.

“I don’t care what Jamie did after a few glasses of wine,” she said quietly. “And we did kick you out so that we could…” She nodded at the ceiling. “…you know. But if this is just a big joke to you, don’t do it. Samuel Oak is a dear friend of mine, and he’s very important to Ash.” She shook her head at him slightly, her expression putting ice in his veins. “Don’t play with his heart.”

“Delia – I –” James swallowed and had another sip of coffee – his mouth had gone dry all of a sudden. “Look, all that with Jessie…” He wilted under her steely gaze. “Look, I was going to tell him I wasn’t interested, but he wants to take me out. No one ever wants to take me out.” He gazed into his mug. “I know the three of us have wine nights, and now and then we all go dancing, but sometimes I feel…”

He risked looking at her. Delia’s expression had softened slightly, and she was nodding.

“I understand,” she answered. “But – I mean it, James. I’d never look at you the same way if you were cruel to him.”

“I won’t, I promise!” James insisted. “He was nice to me. I’m not mean to people who are nice to me.” Getting up, he crossed the room and placed his arms gently on her shoulders. “And you know that I’d never want to do anything to jeopardise our friendship, Delia.”

Delia let out a sigh. Finally, she smiled up at him. “Okay. I trust you.”

James nodded. “You’ll see. By this time next week, I’ll have had a free – but boring – dinner, Jessie’ll have an extra twenty Pokédollars, Professor Oak will be thoroughly disillusioned, and everything will be back to normal.”

---

Meowth scowled as his human housemate tried on various combinations of shirts and pants, fretting over which ones looked best. “Thought you was only doing this for the free dinner?”

James cast him a sour look. “Excuse me for wanting to look nice in front of your boss.” He settled on a pair of chinos and a white shirt.

“Yeah, he is my boss,” Meowth growled, “and I gotta look him in the eye Monday morning, so no funny business.” James rolled his eyes and applied some cologne. Meowth sneezed as it wafted his way. The doorbell rang and James flinched.

“Get that, will you?” he said, a note of panic in his voice. “I haven’t even decided what shoes to wear!”

Grumbling under his breath, Meowth trudged to the front door, jumped up on the end table, and tugged on the handle.

“Hey there, Prof,” he mumbled, moving to let the older man in. He gestured through to the den. “Have a seat. His Majesty’ll be right out.”

“Thank you, Meowth.” The professor settled himself on the couch, laying the bouquet of flowers he’d brought carefully on the coffee table. He plucked a comb from the pocket of his sport coat and ran it through his hair. Meowth slunk into the den and eyed him suspiciously from behind the armchair. He didn’t like the flowers or the sport coat or the black shirt which looked kinda tight on the prof but in a flattering way. And here he’d done everything he could to try and stop any shenanigans from shenaniganing.

His ears twitched at the sound of a door opening and closing down the hall.

“Yoo-hoo.”

Professor Oak stood up, taking the bouquet with him. James stepped into the den, leather jacket slung over one shoulder.

“Well!” The professor looked up at him. “You certainly look handsome.” He looked down at the flowers. “I, er, I wasn’t sure who I’d be taking to dinner…but I suppose these are for you.”

“Ooh.” James giggled and Meowth frowned. “Oh, these are expensive.” He blushed. “Sam, you shouldn’t have.” He turned to the surly Scratch-Cat. “Meowth, be a dear and put these in some water, will you?”

With a growl, Meowth snatched the flowers out of James’ grasp.

“Shall we?” Professor Oak asked, offering James his arm.

“Let’s,” James answered. He petted Meowth roughly on the head. “Don’t wait up now!”

Meowth followed them to the entrance, frowning again as the professor opened James’ door for him. “I ain’t never gonna sleep tonight.”

---

“Thanks for coming, honey.” Delia glanced up anxiously at the clock again. It was almost time to open up, and there was still no sign of James.

“Oh I’m not missing this,” Jessie replied with a smirk. “I want my twenty bucks.”

“If James doesn’t show up soon, I’m going to need you to be a server,” Delia warned. “I’ll have to do all the cooking.”

“I dunno what to tell ya, Delia,” Meowth remarked from the counter. He had another mouthful of milk. “He was at home this morning and he left before I did.”

The back door flew open.

“Sorry I’m late!” James called. He snatched his apron from its peg and put it on. “Let me just get ready –”

As he made for the kitchen, Jessie leaned over and hooked him by the collar. “Hold it right there, mister. We all want to know how your date went.”

A dreamy look came over James’ face.

“Oh it was a magical evening,” he drawled, resting his chin in his hand. “He took me to this swanky Kalosian restaurant, and then we went for a walk in the park. And then we drove down to Route 21, and the moonlight was shining on the water…”

“Aww…”

Delia glanced at Jessie. She was mirroring her former team-mate’s posture, a goofy smile on her face. Note to self – take Jessie to Route 21 after sunset. Dressed as guy(?)

James pushed himself off the counter and began to saunter back and forth. “And we just talked and talked and talked…”

“Yeah, what about?” Meowth asked sourly.

“Poetry,” James retorted good-naturedly. “And Grass-types. And overly affectionate Pokémon. And Ash.” He scratched the cat behind his ears. “And you.” He crossed his arms and shot Jessie a smug look. “And you owe me twenty Pokédollars, because I didn’t get home till after midnight. No hot cocoa involved.”

Jessie looked to Meowth for confirmation. The cat shrugged.

“I hate to say it, but he’s right,” he declared. “Pay the man, Jess.”

“You know, I’m not even mad,” Jessie chuckled, reaching for her purse. A teasing note entered her voice as she handed over the cash. “You’re sweet on a grandpa.”

James giggled. “You know, I think I am,” he admitted. “Did I tell you he brought me flowers?”

“Midnight’s not so late,” Delia remarked. She arched an eyebrow at James, her smile belying her serious boss act. “So why are you, Mr. Sasaki? Explain yourself.”

“Oh, I had to drop Sam’s jeep back to the corral,” James replied. “I wound up driving him home.” He looked away coyly. “He wasn’t really in any shape to.”

“Really?” Delia asked in surprise. “That’s not like him.” She chuckled. “I suppose it has been a while since he had a night out, he probably doesn’t know his limits anymore.”

Delia – as most people would, in her position – assumed that the blank look which appeared on James’ face was just one of his many himbo moments. Jessie and Meowth, on the other hand, understood loud and clear, with the latter just managing not to spit milk across the restaurant.

“Oh – yes,” James laughed nervously. “We brought a bottle of wine with us to Route 21 and he had a few too many. That, that is definitely what happened.” He looked past her at the clock. “Is that the time, I’d better get in that kitchen!”

Delia turned to look, jumped a little at the time, and quickly headed to the front door to open up. Behind her, Jessie and Meowth exchanged a wordless glance.

So much for looking the prof in the eye come Monday morning.

We are never telling her.

@yamujiburo

[number1jeonginstan]

Hii, I saw you take requests!! Hihi! Could you do a lee know drabble? Like reader fell first but he fell harder? They don’t know each other that well, see each other through friends sometimes and she has a huge crush and is a fan but is trying not to let it on and leave him be and then Idk just him maybe being like struck by fate and just completely starting to see reader differently, after just thinking of her as a nice girl he met a few weeks ago. Just soft Lee know please and some cute interactions and reader being completely caught off guard when he expresses interest… hahha idk I hope you like this💕🫶good luck with your paper!

Lonely St.

A/N: Thank you so much for this request! I tried adding my own twist on it and I hope you like it. Also, you are so sweet for wishing me luck with my paper! (I'm like 1/3 way done and am trying to finish another third in a couple of hours after sleeping, but writing this gave me the break I needed.)

WC: 1.6k

Summary: Your friend introduces you to his best friend who just happens to be a pro idol (I love it when he calls himself that) Lee Know!

Warnings: None! It's just some cute fluff about Lee Know

Lee Know x afab!Reader (strangers to lovers)

You loved the coffee shop you lived above. The owner was a sweet old lady who absolutely adored you, bringing you cookies occasionally or you went to her shop just to talk for hours. It always warmed your heart talking to her, and in exchange for all the free coffee she would give you, you would help out on weekends. She would let you close up any time you wanted on the days you worked, knowing how much you loved snuggling up in your special corner of her shop, Lonely St., with the cafe’s cat. 

It was an average weekend for you, it was 10 at night and you sat in your favorite spot next to the window reading a book. The fall air was freezing, causing you to bundle up in an oversized sweatshirt and sweatpants. You loved it, the smell of coffee still wafting through the air. Harold, the cafe’s cat, was snuggled up in your lap purring occasionally as you rubbed behind his ears. As you became more and more immersed in your book you were oblivious to the jingling of the door until someone coughed. You quickly got up, marked your page, and ran to the counter. 

In entered your close friend, Heejin, with someone else. “Hi,” you ran up to him, embracing him in a hug. He always smelled like cinnamon for some reason and it brought you such comfort. You both became friends through work, since you both sat next to one another and he had a picture of a cat on his desk, you slowly became friends. “Hi y/n,” he said while pinching your cheeks, he always did this, acting like your older brother even though he was only 7 months older than you. “I brought my best friend from my hometown to check this place out, please tell me you guys still have pudding cups because I promised him you guys have some of the best in all of the area.” 

You look up to see none other than Lee Know and to say you were a bit awestruck was an understatement. You turned to Heejin and whispered in his ear, “You are friends with the Lee Minho and you didn’t tell me, some friend you are!” and he just chuckled. 

“Sorry, about that,” you said with an apologetic smile “My name is y/n, it’s very nice to meet you. I am a big fan of your guys’ music.” He just gave you a small smile. “Oh right,” you exclaimed “you are here for our famous pudding! The owner of the shop makes it fresh every morning. I am almost a hundred percent sure we have at least one left!” You ran over to the fridge looking inside to make sure that there was still the one you saw thirty minutes ago while you were cleaning. 

“Here you are, free of charge since we were going to throw it out anyways,” you handed it to him. Heejin looked at you disappointed, “where is mine?” You just looked at him “Did you forget about what happened last time that warrants me from ever giving you free food?” 

“How was I supposed to know that I can’t microwave tin-foil” he groaned “it doesn’t look like a metal.” You just glared at him as Minho chuckled in the background, sitting down and taking a scoop of the pudding. “This is really good, Heejin why haven’t you been bringing me this when you visit me?” he asked with a dead serious face “I thought you were supposed to be the loving boyfriend in this relationship” he pouted. 

“Wow Heejin, cheating on me? What would Chip think, wait until he finds out his favorite person is no longer talking to his owner,” you said with a giggle. “HEY!” Heejin shouted “I’m my cat’s favorite person” Minho just rolled his eyes, “You know he loves me the most, you both keep lying to yourselves.” You just giggled as you and Heejin joined Minho at the table, sitting down. 

You guys began talking, about everything and everything. How Heejin and you met, how Minho and he became friends, their adventures to Japan, and how it was being an idol. Before you knew it, it had become one in the morning. Harold was snuggled up beside Minho, and you were getting a bit tired, thinking about the long day ahead of you. “I guess we should get going Heejin,” Minho said, stretching a bit. “It was very nice meeting you y/n, I hope to see you again and next time buy some more pudding,” he said with the biggest grin in his life. 

He was so cute you thought to yourself, but you shouldn’t think like this. He was an idol and you didn’t have a chance, it would be cool you thought to yourself. You said goodbye to them, closing up the shop and going back to your apartment, not knowing Heejin introducing you to Minho would shift your entire life. 

 It had been a couple of months since you first met Minho, at first you didn’t think much of it. You knew he was busy being one of the biggest idols in Korea and thought you would never see him again, but you were so wrong. 

Every weekend he would come to the shop at 11 pm on the dot, he never missed a Saturday. It was your new regular pattern, instead of curling up with a book, you would talk to Minho about anything and everything under the sun for hours. Sometimes Heejin would be there, but sometimes he wouldn’t. 

In the back of your mind, you would find yourself falling for Lee Know. The way he would talk with such adoration about his cats, or his wild stories about the other members of his group, you would always pay full attention. You loved the ways he would joke around, but you would often feel flustered at times when he talked to you. 

You were already a big fan of his music and his personality prior to meeting him, but getting to know him amplified your feelings tenfold, you knew he wouldn’t look at you like that. You liked the comfort of having him as a friend too much to risk that relationship. That’s why you never acted on any of your emotions, no matter how infatuated you were with him. 

You would feel your cheeks getting red whenever he would compliment your outfit that day or when he tried your new recipe and gave you feedback. You guys often talked about desserts, it always ended up with him promising you that he would bring you one of Felix’s famous brownies. “They are literally the best thing I have ever eaten, like genuinely, I will bring you one the next time he makes them.” 

He ended up upholding that promise the second month you guys became friends. He looked you straight in the eyes while you took a bite. His eyes transfixed on you to see your reaction. “These are amazing, please ask him for the recipe for me,” you said with a grin and that was the first time he looked at you in a different light. 

For Minho, it was hard to talk to people, to open up with people he didn’t grow up with especially because he did not know if they had his best interest at heart. He was scared that people only liked him for his status, and was scared to make new connections. When he first met you, he was scared. Heejin had told him that he made a new friend whom he wanted him to meet. “She’s so sweet, and the embodiment of a homebody, so don’t worry she won’t say anything”

He put himself in what he called “idol mode” straight-faced and straight to the point, thinking that he would just say Hi to you, get some pudding, and leave with Heejin. What he did not anticipate was loving your personality, how you could listen to him for hours while still engaging with him, unafraid to ask questions. You didn’t use anything against him either, at first he was scared that you would tell dispatch about his stories, but it was quite the opposite, you guys trusted each other. 

You wouldn’t even bring up the stories he shared with you in front of Heejin, afraid that Minho had not already told Heejin.  That’s what got him to keep coming back to you every weekend. He thought of you as one of his close friends, someone he could confide in, that was until a night in the middle of February. The weather was cool and he had just come over, taking off his scarf, and could not find you. 

You rushed from the kitchen, flour on your face and apron, and that was when he knew he was whipped. He should have known it from the beginning, how you were slowly becoming his favorite person to confide in, but at that moment he knew he wanted more. He wanted to snuggle up next to you like you did with Harold. He wanted to bake with you and be there when you made the new recipes you showed him. He didn’t care about being an idol at that moment, walking towards you, and taking your face in his hand. 

“What are you doing?” you asked cocking your head to the side a bit. “What I should have done months ago,” he replied placing a kiss on your lips.

[withonly-sweetheart]

Seven Years Close

Do you accept Leon's proposal to marry? You can't tell if he's trying to get into your bed or if he has genuine feelings.

a/n: so this was supposed to be knight leon and then somewhere along the road i was lost in lana and taylor and so now you get this asjkfwfioasajwqe do you fw me???

tw: sweetie pie fluff <3

wc: 2.9k

You cast a distasteful glance at the platter of raspberry tarts being passed around the room, servants anxiously staring up at you, wide eyes silently pleading you to take one. Taking pity, you curl your fingers around one of them and slowly nibble, leaning back against the wall.

Your twin sister, Rebecca, the heir to your family legacy, is nowhere to be seen. It’s become a rare occurrence to even see her around the estate, since she’s almost always frolicking off with one of her new suitors, twirling her hair and giggling as they make such fools of themselves, performing advanced melodies on their lutes and harps.

What good is art if there is no soul behind it? In twenty one years, you have not yet met a single man with a personality outside of the court, outside of succeeding to their family’s expectations, siring heirs before retiring to their homes on the coast, living out the rest of their miserable lives listening to the redundant waves wash onto the shore.

“What’s a lovely miss like you doing here, all alone?” You don’t recognize the voice and have to look up to match the tone to the face, and the face you see is not one you wish to see. 

The prince of the kingdom, the man every woman wishes for and sees in their dreams. Leon Kensington. Believe it or not, it hurts you every time you see him, because anytime he meets your eyes, all you can remember is…

“Take it. Don’t be shy, it’s my gift to you!”

“Good evening, Your Highness,” you mumble, the once sweet fruit tasting infinitely bitter on your tongue. You resist the urge to scrape it on the back of your hand and instead offer a polite nod, shifting your weight so you’re facing away from him. “How nice to see you here.”

“There are times when I look at you and wonder what my life would be like if we had never met,” he says wistfully, completely ignoring your greeting.

“And?”

Leon smiles. “And my breath hitches, like my body’s reminding me that not meeting you would be like living a life with no air.”

“That will not work on me, dear prince,” you drone, steeling your mind against the sweet line. As much as you wish to believe it is true, you know he’s just trying to get into your bed. “I’m not as incapable as your lovers.”

“Indeed,” he agrees, stepping even closer to accommodate for the space you very deliberately just put between you two. “It is a nice gathering, yes?” You note the subtle change of subject and resist smirking.

“Nothing I wouldn’t expect from the House of Redfield,” you jest. “They are known for their majestic sceneries.”

“I didn’t know the Duchess was accustomed to the wilderness,” he replies with fake shock, arching his hand on his chest. “I always took you for a lady afraid to get your slippers wet.”

And just like that, in one mercurial swing, you’re back to irritation. 

“Duchess is a title reserved for my sister,” you hiss from behind clenched teeth. “If you put effort into every woman you woo with your irresistible charm, you might’ve known that.”

You’re mad, but you can’t pinpoint the exact reason why. It’s not like you recognize the man in front of you. He’s older, more mature, and it shows in the defined slants of his face. But you can’t forget what you’ll always remember.

You don’t wait for a response. Instead you stroll away, seething in anger, searching the crowd for your sister. When you finally spot her usually tame, brown locks, somehow already tousled, you link your arm through hers and pull her away from the Baron Wesker, who looks far too old for her.

She lets out a yelp of protest, fixes her face and wiggles her fingers in goodbye to the man, before turning to you and huffing.

“How dare you!” she whines, smoothing out her dress. “Where are you taking me?”

“We’re going home,” you grumble. “I will not stand a second longer in this wretched place.”

“Excuse you! Duchess Claire is one of your closest friends!”

“And, unfortunately for us, she’s fallen ill, and her brother is tending to her. So unless you get in the carriage, I will be forced to resort to shoving my slippers up your-”

“I get it!” she groans. “You ruin all my fun.”

Aren’t I the only one.

<><><>

When Jillian hobbles into your room, you already know that something’s been arranged. The woman raises her eyebrows and lets out an amused chuckle when you groan.

“Are you far too busy to be bothered by His Royal Majesty himself?” she muses, handing you an envelope tightly clutched in her frayed hands. Streaks of gray already line her dusty hair. She’s old enough to be your mother, so, lacking a parental figure, you and Nysa consider her to be. 

“Your uncle has requested you attend the-”

“Absolutely not.” 

Jillian frowns. “Child.”

You’ve already skimmed the letter, and after getting past the first line, your mind has already been made up. Of all the things your uncle could force you to do under the illusion of ‘it’s what’s best for the family’, this was one you simply could not comply with.

“The arrangement for alliance between House Kensington and House Chambers? Seriously? That isn’t even my true name!” you protest, pointing directly to where the loopy handwriting, signed by the prince himself, ends.

“This is not an offer, girl,” Jillian lectures in return, her long, simple ivory dress sweeping the dust from the wooden planks. “You are expected to attend. Tonight.”

“What if I choose not to?” you reply defiantly, glaring up at her. She looks down at you for a moment, fingers tightening around the roll of newspapers in her hand before frowning and immediately proceeding to whack your back with the paper.

You scramble from your chair and she chases you around the room, pummeling you until you finally agree, panting heavily. For someone who looks old enough to be Queen, she sure is quick on her feet.

Later that evening, her nimble fingers thread your hair into complex twists, weaving in strands of worn-out gold, like a tapestry not quite finished.

“I wore these when I met my lover,” she whispers as she works, her faded eyes finding yours in the mirror. “He said I looked radiant, outshining the sun itself.” She presses a soft, tentative kiss to the top of your head. “Do not lose this one, child. I only wish to see you happy.”

You can’t tell if she’s talking about the braids or if she’s talking about Leon. Giving your hand to him in marriage seems like the worst possible idea you’ve ever had, and although you are sure you will deny everything Leon thinks of you, some part of your mind wants to make this woman happy, wants to gain her approval, wants to see her smile again, because you did this for her, no? You’ve done everything you’ve ever done for her.

The self-defense training, the balls, galas, everything you dreaded growing through your teenage years, it was all so much more tolerable with Jillian’s comfort, however weary.

That’s exactly why you put on your brightest, most stunning smile as you approach His Royal Highness, his wife, and of course, his two eldest sons.

Steven, heir to the throne, sulks in his chair, lazily slouched with his feet draped on his armrest. He is the image of one of the seven deadly sins; sloth. 

You were raised in a family where sins were forbidden and to even think of them would require serious action. Rebecca chose to ignore your uncle’s rules after your parents’ passing while you strove to stick to them, knowing that if it were not for your uncle, there would never be a future for either of you.

“Your Majesty,” you finish, curtsying in front of Leon. You feel his gaze on your neck, dropping everywhere on your body, and you feel Rebecca tense besides you, because she doesn’t know why he’s not paying attention to her.

You do. He hasn’t taken his eyes off of you since you walked in. 

While your uncle converses with Their Majesties for wedding plans, you all are excused to mingle in the common room. You realize that this is the perfect chance to leave Leon alone, therefore providing you with solitary comfort, but then Jillian flashes through your mind, and you realize you have to make this work, however uneasy you feel.

His eyebrow arches as you approach to stand next to him, while your sister shoots off to bat her eyelashes at Steven.

“You’re much more boring than you usually are,” Leon drones, thumbing the sleeves of his linen jacket. “I was expecting something more extravagant.” 

“If you wanted extravagant,” you retort, “you should’ve picked one of your bedchamber women to marry.”

“You think I want to marry you?” Leon scoffs, as if the idea’s never crossed his mind. You hope it hasn’t. “Heavens no. This is for the sake of the throne.”

“Your father thinks marrying into our bloodline is best for the kingdom?” You restrain from making a sarcastic sound of your own. “Pardon, but he’s thoroughly mistaken.”

“How so?” Leon twists to face you, eyes sparkling with a newfound curious light.

“Truly? A bastard orphan and a woman who’s already shared her bed with multiple other men,” you drawl. “Is that the ideal legacy you’d like to uphold?”

“We would be in shambles without you,” he admits, looking down at you, thin, golden eyelashes framing his pensive eyes. “And even if you don’t wish to marry me, I assure you that I will do my best to be whatever you need.”

“I… suppose I can reciprocate that,” you stumble over your words, finally coming to some kind of unspoken agreement. At your flushed state, Leon smirks.

“What if I asked for your firstborn child?”

You can’t hold back a grin. “What, are you suggesting you participate in witchcraft?”

He chuckles, a gentle, unrestrained sound that seems to resonate through you. “No, of course not. I was simply curious.”

“Hm,” you hum, debating the reality of the question. “You are the prince, yes? I have sworn my undying loyalty to you, so if you asked for my child, however heart wrenching, it is my duty to hand whatever you wish over.”

“Heart wrenching?” Leon pauses, then shrugs, laughing softly. “Have you forgotten already, my dear? Your firstborn child is mine either way.”

“Oh.” You flush an even deeper red, realizing the true meaning of his words. “Yes… I suppose that is correct.”

“Why are you always like this around me?” he queries after a beat of silence. “You seem… tense?”

“I’m not tense,” you assure, far too quickly to convince him.

“Don’t lie,” he says, voice lower, quieter. It has a new level of intimacy you weren’t prepared for. “Tell me what you are thinking about.”

“Right now?” 

He nods. “Right this moment.”

You inhale sharply. “I’m… thinking about our ceremonial day back when we were in school.”

Leon tilts his head to the side. “Why on Earth would you be thinking of that?”

“I have this image of you in my mind, as a small boy, with mud in your suit and branches in your hair, and you came up to me.”

“I… handed you a leaf,” he continues slowly, as if just remembering the memory. “Yes, I recall that day. You were wearing that lovely pink dress.”

“Do you…”

“Recall that I asked for your hand in marriage?”

There’s a beat of silence before you hesitantly answer, “Yes?”

“Can I ask why this is bothering you?”

“You are so… different, now,” you rush to finish, wanting to get all your thoughts out quickly. “You’re not the same Leon.”

“Are you the same?” he asks in return. “It has been seven years. A lot has changed, between the two of us.”

“We were so close,” you whisper, slightly dazed.

“We are close now, too,” he says, but you get the sense he’s not talking about emotionally. He’s moved to sit near you, breath fanning your nose, eyes searching yours with a familiar warmth, yet deeper. A spark stirs in your core, fading embers rekindling.

"The boy who gave me leaves cared deeply," you say softly. "As I hope the man does."

Leon smiles. "As does the woman. You still love me?"

You scoff. “Still? You’re still as cocky as ever.”

Leon grins boyishly. “Some things will never change, hm?” His hand finds yours, fingers entwining. But where innocent affection left off, desire awakens, smoldering beneath your skin.

Eyeing lips but a breath apart, Leon whispers, "May I?"

Your pulse quickens as you nod. As his lips meet yours, the fluttering flame within blossoms into a radiant glow, spreading warmth through your veins with sentiments left unspoken for too long. You finally realize that avoiding your past was the worst mistake you’ve ever made.

When he pulls away from you, curling his fingers along the side of your cheek, the longing in his face is evident, like he’s finally seeing something he forced himself to block out for so long. 

“Why did I ever let you go?” he asks, voice feather soft, but you understand he’s asking himself, pitching his regret. His expression is gentle as his gaze shifts to your hair. “Was your hair always golden?”

“I do think you have been paying attention to me over the years,” you muse, lying your head against the sofa. “I’m flattered.”

“Who didn’t?” Leon arches a golden eyebrow. “Surely you’ve noticed the amount of suitors trailing you around everywhere you go? Just last month I rode past your estate and there was a line of men waiting to call on you.”

“And they were all such boring lads,” you drawl, groaning just from the memory. Leon leans on his fist, propping himself up against the wood to face you.

“No one is as charming as me,” he says sweetly. “It pleases me to hear that you’ve finally realized this.”

“Yes, Leon,” you manage through snickers. “You are indeed very charming.”

“Yes, very well, go on,” he replies, the corner of his mouth lifting. “What else do you find lovely about me?”

“You’re truly asking for this?” Leon nods eagerly, so you consider him for a moment.

"Let's see..." you ponder thoughtfully. "Your ego knows no bounds.”

Leon pretends to wince. "You wound me, my dear!" He declares with feigned drama.

"Your hair remains equal parts charming and disastrous, as in days of your youth." He runs a hand through his tousled locks, shifting them so the sun hits them perfectly, an effervescent glow around them.

"Your smile is as radiant as the summer sun. Your eyes are as warm as a crackling hearth," you continue, gazing deep into azure depths.

"My, such flattery! When did you become such a poet?" he quips, returning your easy smile.

You cock your head sideways. "There is one quality more that makes you singular amongst men..."

Raising his eyebrows, Leon leans forward as if onto a delicious secret. "And what quality is that, pray tell?"

"Your boundless arrogance knows no competition!" you exclaim as Leon clutches his chest in exaggerated fashion.

“Wounded yet again!” he whines, but there’s a playful twinkle in his eyes. “And here I was, blindly assuming your adoration for me was sincere.” 

“Of course it is,” you say dotingly. “But someone must keep that ego in check.”

“Who better for the job than my future wife?” 

You tilt your head, regarding him with amusement. "Is that a proposal, my prince?”

"Would you accept, if it were?" Leon returns casually, yet beneath you spot profound hope. Perhaps there is a way to not only get what you want, but also to win Jillian’s praise.

“Yes. Yes, I would.”

“Lovely,” your uncle states from across the room. You peek over the top of the cushion to see your uncle and Their Majesties standing behind you. You don’t know how long they’ve stood there, and you’re not sure you want to. “Then the wedding will be set.”

“Do you know where Steven is?” I hear the Queen murmur.

“I’m quite sure he disappeared off to his chamber.”

The Queen sighs. “With the girl?”

“With the girl,” the King confirms. “I suppose this would also mean that we will need to plan their wedding, as well?”

“Splendid!” your uncle coos. “The royal family will be covering all expenses, correct?”

You assume they nod, because your uncle starts to gush about all the decorations and banquets and how your wedding will be the most stunning wedding of the century.

You cast a wary look at Leon. “Are you still sure you want to marry me?” Leon rests his hand on top of yours, looking at you with utmost sincerity. 

“Are you being serious? Because, darling, I would love nothing more than to spend the rest of my life in love with you.”

[icycoldninja]

*Tippy toes in a not-so-suspicious manner* “Hey god, it’s me again 🧍‍♂️👁️”

———————————————————————————

Can you write the DMC men + Sephi with a reader who has long hair like the Victorian ladies back then?

She takes very good care of her hair like massaging her scalp to stimulate blood flow, washes her hair carefully, oiling the ends and occasionally trimming it, hair serums, etc

And the reason is that when she was young with her mother, she complimented how beautiful and lovely her hair must be when she gets older and how long it’ll be. That imprinted in her mind and in order to pay homage to her mother, who now had passed away tragically due to a devil-attacking incident, it’s also a way to remember her as sometimes when she looks into the mirror, she would always see her mom in herself mainly due to her long hair and how she looks almost like a carbon copy of her mother

But it can be a hassle, taking care of it due to how long it is and how much time to care for it. In some fights, her hair would get caught up in something or a demon trying to grip her hair, resulting in her almost getting caught several times no matter how much she tied her hair up

She knows she needs to cut it because it can be a life or death situation, but she’s also really reluctant because other than her hair, she doesn’t have anything that can physically remind her of her dead mom

Ok, please enjoy!

DMC boys + Sephiroth x Reader with very long hair headcannons

¤ Dante ¤

-Dante thinks your hair is very beautiful and has laid his grubby hands on it more than once, though he only did this without your permission one time.

-He doesn't really care how you maintain your hair because he is a dude who doesn't understand haircare, but he is interested in all the shiny tonics you have.

-He watched you perform your haircare routine once, and only managed to get through half of it. How anyone has the patience to do all that is beyond him.

-When he heard why you want to keep your hair so long, his heart really reached out to you. He missed his mom too, so he knows what that yearning feels like.

-He doesn't want you to feel like you have to cut your hair, but it's getting in the way of your missions, and if you don't find a way to keep it tied up and out of the way, it will put you at risk.

-He finally came up with a solution, and that solution was to tie your hair up with regular hair ties, then wrap it in nylon cord to keep it from coming undone. While it looks ugly, it's functional and doesn't really damage your hair.

■ Vergil ■

-Vergil thought your extremely long hair was rather impractical, but said nothing.

-Your cabinet full of hair supplies was annoying, but Vergil kept his mouth shut.

-The mounds of hair you leave on the floor was absolutely infuriating, but Vergil kept these thoughts to himself.

-Your reasons for keeping your hair so long resonated within him, because he knew what it was like to miss your mother that badly. If he was born a girl, he would have done the same.

-He understood you were saddened about having to cut your hair, but if you didn't, you would be at risk during missions.

-He assured you that even if you cut your hair, you still looked a lot like your mother, and that you don't need hair to keep her memory alive. She was in your heart, and always would be.

-Besides, you didn't even get it cut that much, just up to your hips, so not much had changed.

□ Nero □

-Nero thought your hair was really nice, and really wanted to touch it.

-How you took care of it was a mystery, and while you did offer to show him, he declined since he wasn't really interested.

-You do make a mess; hair accumulates on nearly every surface, specifically the bed and couch.

-Being someone who never knew his mom, Nero understands why you are so adamant on retaining your hair.

-He didn't want you to cut it either, but this was a matter of practicality and safety. You should, or you risk getting injured because demons will use it as leverage.

-With a lot of help from Nico, Nero managed to get you a specially engineered hair tie that keeps your hair secure and free of damage while you fight. Hooray, now you don't need to cut it!

● V ●

-V thought your hair was very beautiful, silky smooth, and impossibly shiny.

-He wanted so badly to touch it, but knew better than to, because in doing so, he might make it dirty.

-Watched you perform your hair routine and was dazzled by the sheer amount of stuff you do with it, and how long it takes.

-He wanted to help you, but had no idea what he was doing and didn't want to ruin your hair, so he resigned himself to just watching.

-He knew you didn't want to cut your hair because you cherished the fact that you looked like your mother. He didn't want you to cut your hair either, he thought it was very beautiful.

-But perhaps you could compromise and just trim it to your waist? That way it would still be very long, but easier to manage.

♡ Sephiroth ♡

-Now, Sephiroth is different from the rest of these chumps.

-He understands haircare and takes it more seriously than young women on TikTok.

-He helps you through everything you need to do, even sharing some of his own tips.

-Visitors think you live with Bigfoot given the amount of hair littering your floors and other surfaces.

-Being a Momma's boy, Sephiroth knows that your memories of your mom are precious to you, so under no circumstances will he allow you to cut your hair.

-If he can manage, then so shall you. He will help you any way he can.

[pedgito]

Smut request for Eddie, but I’m worried you might think it’s too close to your single!dad series! But I’m just gonna give it to you anyway because you’re my favorite smut writer. Dad!eddie and babysitter!reader? (Obviously 18+)

author’s note: it’s not at all!! i really wanted to try out something a little different so hopefully this isn’t terrible lol. i hope you enjoy!

cw: 18+ (minors dni), large age gap (21 & 36), dad!eddie, power dynamic (but it’s still pretty balanced, just given the content), virgin!reader, oral (f&m receiving), fingering, all the sex stuff—don’t come into my inbox with bs, if you don’t like, don’t read. but if you do, ily.

word count: 5.6k

Eddie liked to think that with being older came more wiser thoughts, actions—but through experience, he was still fumbling his way through life the same way he had back when in his early twenties, fresh out of high school and making the decent money that he could between shifts at the plant with Wayne, who had to nearly bribe his boss to give him the job, and the small shows he kept up with Corroded Coffin—not that it ever brought in a lot of money.

But, it did bring him to the life he had now; nearing his late thirties, fresh divorcee and a spirited young daughter to prove it. He couldn’t even believe it himself half the time—marriage was never something he planned out, or kids, or searching for babysitters instead of opting to force his child into daycare—spending hours looking through possible prospects, vetting them thoroughly. It felt like he was living a dream most of the time, until reality plopped down on his lap with a giant grin on her face, stray curls cascading down her forehead.

“Do you have to go, daddy?” His daughter asks, “Can’t you play another night?”

Any shows he did now were more for his own enjoyment—monthly shows at a small bar at the edge of town. They gathered a decent crowd and lended to Eddie meeting some very friendly ladies, not that he cared that much.

He had his eyes elsewhere and it was a damn shame nothing would come of it—as horrible as he felt about.

“Sorry, sweetie—I made a promise.” He explains to her, trying his best to lay it out in her terms, “You know I can’t break promises.”

You step through the door only a few moments after, overnight bag snug over your shoulder as you squealed gleefully at his daughter—her previous qualms about Eddie leaving disappearing in an instant.

“You could stay home and play board games with us!” She suggests excitedly, pulling at your hand. You smile knowingly at Eddie, it was typical behavior that didn’t surprise either of you.

“Yeah, Mr. Munson—she’s a pro at connect four, believe me.”

You say his name the way he hates, the way you know he hates. He’s told you time and time again—Eddie. It’s Eddie.

It felt like you were doing it on purpose most of the time.

And so what if you were?

“Oh, I do.” He smiles smugly, crinkling his nose toward the young girl as he fetches his keys from the letting. “Her mom said she might come tonight—maybe in the morning. I can never really predict her, but you’re fine with staying the night just in case, right?”

“I did bring my bag for a reason.” You retort with a playful tease to your tone, swinging the back around as you drop it on the empty loveseat. “You know I don’t have a problem with it.”

“I just—there’s no telling how tonight is going to go.” Eddie admits.

There was no telling how drunk he was going to get—that’s what he means to say. Your eyebrow quirks up in interest and Eddie only shakes his head. There was never any judgment—his life was his life. But, being so young and naive still, it made you wonder how life could really be as you grew older. Eddie seemed to be happy; great friends, nice house, a small but close knit family, he had it all.

Eddie felt the monotony set in the moment he tied himself down to his ex-wife, but being newly single—it had sparked something inside him that wouldn’t die out. Maybe it was an early midlife crisis, a lapse of judgment, but it made him want the things he knew he couldn’t have.

The clues weren’t there initially either. Eddie was as respectful and stern as you expected when you first met, scrutinizing and over-examining every part of your life—you were the secondary protector of his daughter outside of him, it only seemed fair.

But, things took a slow turn as you started to come around more—dinners were occasional, cigarettes out on the porch before you drove home, small talks about what you had to deal with while he was away that soon turned into Eddie being more open with his personal life, and in turn, yours.

There wasn’t a part of his life that was much of a secret anymore—you knew the dirtiest details, the saddest ones. He confided in you a little too easily, but you were just as much at fault for letting it happen.

The first night things shift, you keep telling yourself it’s not actually happening. You had your keys in hand, ready to step out the door until Eddie grasps at your wrist, nodding you back in for a glass of wine, Chardonnay, or whatever the hell he kept around in his cabinet.

“I…don’t drink wine, Eddie.” You say wearily, not complaining about the tug on your wrist as you follow him.

“I forget—you probably like beer, don’t you?” He teases, “At least I did at your age.”

Admittedly, you were twenty one—so it wasn’t like you were doing anything wrong per-say. You had graduated, opted out of college, and made most of your living through odd jobs and nannying—Eddie’s was probably the most stable you’ve been, even if you weren’t a live-in. You saw his daughter nearly everyday, dealt with his chaotic ex-wife as often as he did, and it felt like you had embedded yourself in his life. Eddie couldn’t complain, he liked having you around.

“I—I really shouldn’t.” You say regretfully, twisting the key in your hand. Eddie senses your nervousness, leaning an arm out against his open fridge. “I have to drive home and I—“

“Just one.” Eddie barters, holding up the two frosted bottles, “You don’t have to finish it if you don’t want to.”

You smile slightly, nodding despite your better judgment.

“Fine. One.” You say sternly, “And you still have to pay me for this week, don’t think I forgot.”

“Can you stretch it a week?” He asks, “I promised the little devil I’d get her that guitar she’s been begging for and her birthday is in a couple days.”

“I know.” You tell him obviously, but the smile you return is sweet. “But that’s fine—just, next week for sure. I have to pay rent.”

“Promise.” He grins, a perfect smile that has you clenching your thighs together every time. “Cheers.”

The clink of the bottles is deafening and Eddie moves to the corner of the counter where you take your seat in the barstool, leaning his torso over as he sips at the beer.

Being close wasn’t strange—you’ve sat next to him on the couch, at the dinner table, but the air is so thick you feel it caught in your throat. Your eyes flick up as the bottle tips to your lips, letting out a small giggle as he tips it up with his finger, a small amount of the liquid trickling down the side of your mouth.

You recover with a small cough, shoving at him weakly.

“Hey, that’s not nice.” You say, feigning annoyance. “You’re wasting a perfectly good beer.”

“Sorry,” He lies, taking a long chug of his own before placing it down on the counter. “So, plans for the weekend?”

He asked every week, it wasn’t strange to you. Eddie always seemed genuinely interested, but for some reason, it didn’t feel like that now—and maybe he was just stringing you along to keep you here, but you played into it so well.

You wanted it—maybe not as bad as him, but it was there.

“No,” You say shyly, shaking your head, “Just my bed and a couple movies. Same old thing.”

“No bars? No clubs?”

“Nope.” Your lips pop around the consonant, taking a small slip before shoving the bottle toward the middle. “They don’t interest me.”

“Come on,” He prys playfully, “There’s gotta be something you do for fun, sweetheart?”

And it was the same thing he had called you after a week of taking in the job, a kind endearment that didn’t make you feel any certain way, a sweet way to differentiate from calling you by your name, but it sits on his tongue like sin—begging for you to lick it off, let him defile you the way he desperately wanted to. It wasn’t lost on either of you how tense the air had become—it was Eddie’s web and he had you caught.

And as much as you enjoyed it, tonight just wasn’t the night.

He’d had a bit too much to drink, alcohol dripping from his breath.

“That is fun.” You insist, “Some of us don’t need to go out to the club and relive our younger years to feel good, you know?”

It’s meant with all the care in the world, a playful jab for how insistent he was being in keeping you here tonight, dragging out the conversation instead of getting to the point.

You would’ve been more satisfied if he had just kissed you at the door and let you leave, but then again, this was pretty enjoyable.

“You’ve never seen me play,” Eddie points out, “I think you’d really enjoy it.”

“I’m sure I would,” You agree before shaking your head slightly, “but I wouldn’t be caught dead at that bar.”

Eddie makes a face, a little taken aback at the insult.

“How come?” He asks curiously.

“A bunch of creepy old men who stick around to prey on the younger girls who sit and watch you play—no thank you.”

Eddie laughs through his nose, leaning into your space slightly.

“What about me?” He asks, wide eyes glazed over in a haze.

“Creepy? No.” You assure him. “Old—-eh?”

“I’m thirty six, that hurts.” Eddie pouts slightly.

“So old,” You reinforce, “We should probably put you into a retirement home already.”

“I can promise you, sweetheart.” Eddie says menacingly, bottom lip pulling between his teeth briefly to nip at the skin. “Nothing about me is old.”

Your eyebrows raise in subtle interest, leaning forward slightly.

“I could show you.” He suggests, eyes glancing down at your lips briefly before catching your gaze. He’s close enough that you can feel his breath, see the freckles on his face this close, faint but there. “If you want.”

He can see the gears in your head turning, deciding. But, it quickly fades as you pull back, his lips barely brushing yours.

“I have to go.” You tell him again, insisting more sternly despite how kind your voice sounds. “Eddie, we can’t.”

He looks instantly dejected, pulling back slightly and rubbing at his eyes with the palms of his hands. He’d forget this in the morning surely, his words had been slurring together most of the night and he wouldn’t have acted so boldly otherwise—would he?

“Let me walk you.” He insists, sliding your bottle toward the trash, his own following until the clink to the bottom.

The walk is slow, palpable, his toes on your heels as he hovers behind you. He grabs the door handle before you can reach for it, pulling it open silently.

“Tell her happy birthday for me?” You ask hopefully, knowing you wouldn’t be around in the day despite how much you wanted to be. “Please?”

Eddie nods quietly, lips pursed together in a tight line.

“Yeah, of course.” He assures you. “Goodnight.”

You lean up on your toes as you turn, caution to the window as you press a chaste kiss to his cheek, stubble rubbing against the sensitive skin of your lip. You can feel the sigh Eddie releases as you make contact, his hand coming to rest against your hip gently, a featherlight touch that if you were to have blinked you would surely miss.

“Goodnight.” You smile, words spoken against his skin.

It’s the same touch Eddie reminds himself of as he tightens his hand around his cock that night, stretched out and writhing on his bed in the loneliness of his empty house—and god did he wish you were there to keep him company.

His ex-wife shows up an hour before midnight, a lot more put together than you’d usually expect, but she fetches her daughter without fuss, leaving you to clean up the mess left behind.

It doesn’t take long, only a little over a half an hour—and your immediate thought is to leave, get the hell out of there, enjoy your weekend like you planned, but you still hadn’t been paid for the week prior, and you’d be damned if Eddie didn’t follow through like he promised.

“Hey—“ His voice is soft as he shakes you away, your figure hunched over the arm of the couch where you napped briefly, peering up at him through bleary eyes. You poured slightly, his face becoming clearer by the second, “did she pick her up?”

He looks surprisingly sober, which is unusual for him.

Admittedly, it was a weird night. His mind had been racing all day, he didn’t play as well as he’d wanted, and he spent the entire night hoping you’d still be there when he got home.

At least one thing has gone right for him.

“What time is it?” You ask, avoiding the question.

“A little after midnight.” He tells you, watching as you leaned up from your reclined position, adjusting your clothes and smoothing out your hair as best you could.

“Uh yeah—yeah, an hour ago.” Your speech is slow and spacey, “Why?”

“Well, I figure you would have left already.” Eddie says admittedly, running a hand through his tousled curls, the hairstyle never changed—and you were kind of grateful for it.

You’d seen pictures of him younger, mid-twenties and dating all the way back to his first day of high school—he didn’t look all that different aside from the slight aging in his face, worry lines buried into the corner of his eyes and that light scruff he wore every now and then when he didn’t shave for a week.

“You still need to pay me.” You retort with a tinge of annoyance, holding your hand out expectantly.

Eddie snorts, reaching for his wallet and slapping the fold of bills into your hand. He hadn’t forgotten at all.

“Did you have a good time?” You ask curiously, stuffing the money in your wallet before burying it back into the back placed on the coffee table, kicking your feet up behind you on the cushion as you stared up expectantly.

You could’ve fled immediately after he handed over the cash, but something was telling you otherwise. Eddie frowned slightly but it disappeared as quickly as it came.

“It was alright.” He tells you halfheartedly, “I hope my kid didn’t give you too much of a hard time, she can be a little, uh—“

“She’s never a problem for me.” You assure him.

There’s a long beat of silence as Eddie lingers about, hands shoved in his pocket as he leans against the wall. You hadn’t talked about that night, hadn’t even mentioned it, but it was still heavy on your mind—and hopefully just as heavy on his.

You pat the cushion next to you expectantly, friendly—it wasn’t out of the ordinary or weird, and Eddie doesn’t hesitate as he throws himself down lazily, stretched out at the other corner as he kicks his shoes off and onto the floor, smiling at you like he always did.

“No groupies tonight?” You tease, knowing he’d had a few experiences with them, none of them memorable or positive.

They were always messy and weird and everything he hated.

Eddie mocks a laugh and rolls his eyes slightly, “I shouldn’t have gone out tonight anyways, too much on my mind.”

You give him a skeptical look, turning to him fully with your arms bugged around your legs, chin tucked up by your knees. He tries to ignore how innocent you look, wide eyes and eager, hanging on his every last word.

“You wouldn’t understand.” He excuses, letting out a deep, heavy sigh as he rests his head against the back of the couch, legs spreader unnecessarily wide. Your eyes draw to the stretch in his jeans near his groin, quickly darting up to meet his gaze with a soft smile.

“Try me.” You shrug, tongue poking out slightly between teeth as you bite down gently, “You’d be surprised.”

Eddie huffs again, a mix between a laugh and flippant noise of dismissal, “Come closer.” He suggested, motioning toward the cushion positioned between you two. You crawled forward without question, resuming a similar position. “Are you uncomfortable?”

“No—this couch feels amazing, actually.” You tell him honestly.

“Sweetheart.” He says like a prayer, head tilted down slightly despite how his gaze still stays. “That’s not what I mean.”

And he’s not drunk—stone cold fucking sober, actually. That’s what intimidates you the most, his willingness to do whatever he felt he needed to have you. It wasn’t just the influence of fuzzy inhibitions. It was genuine, selfish want. Something he knew he shouldn’t have, couldn’t have—yet here you were.

“Around you?” You ask, he nods slowly. “Never.”

The touch he returns is careful, fingers wrapping around your ankle gently, rubbing soft touches into the skin. You follow his movements, the silence lingering.

“And now?” Eddie asks quietly, eyes flicking toward you briefly before returning back to his slowly moving hand.

A slow drag of his middle finger up your calf, up under the curve of your knee until he can wrap his fingers around it and widen your legs slightly, arms spilling from where they’re snug and tight around you, forcing you to sit up slightly. There’s no resistance when he pushes your legs apart, eyes darting toward the apex of your thighs. Your breath catches slightly, hands falling behind you in an effort to keep you upright. You’ve never been more thankful than to have chosen a dress on a night like this and Eddie can’t even act like he’s able to keep it together, thin lace panties on display before his very eyes.

“Do you want me to stop?” He asks when you don’t answer his first question, your chest rising and falling rapidly at his lingering touch, guiding along the inside of your thigh. The leg that isn’t bracketed against the back of the couch falters to the floor, spreading you so wide that Eddie has no other choice but to rub his fingers over the clothed mound of your cunt, pulling a soft gasp from your chest. “Answer me.”

“Nono,” You rush out embarrassingly quickly, “please, don’t.”

It’s exactly what he wants to hear. Needy, desperate—everything he was feeling just as intensely.

“Have you ever been touched like this?” He asks, words careful and precise, his movements as such, dragging a single finger down the seam, pressing into the growing spot of wetness there.

And you can’t take your eyes off of him, same as he does for you, it’s so much more than admiring your body, rather admiring the way you react to his touches, taking it all in. Your mouth hangs slightly, soft breathy gasp escaping.

You shake your head shyly. As much as you would’ve liked to lie and say you had tons of experience, you didn’t. Most of the time you lied, afraid of the ridicule, but you’d been saving yourself for someone special—and if that was Eddie, so be it.

His finger curves around the barrier of your underwear, forcing it to the side until there’s skin against skin and he feels it, if he wasn’t attempting be so coy he’d make a comment about how wet you already were, but the words are lost on him as he drags a finger through the pool of wetness and presses gently against your clit, unmoving as he watches you.

“Is this okay?” He checks in again. There was never a doubt in his mind, but he needed to ask for reassurance, to know that he wasn’t just dreaming again. “Do you like it?”

You bite harshly at your bottom lip, nodding a fervent yes in response. The heat invades your face, your eyes, practically your entire body as it flushes under Eddie’s gaze. The tension had always been there, but it had finally snapped and you couldn’t help but stare at him now, watching as his face contorted into his own version of pleasure, idly running his open palm over the front of his pants, palming his growing cock as it sat heavy in his jeans.

“Talk to me, sweetheart.” He encourages, “Don’t go shy on me now.”

You giggle softly—it was completely unlike you, knowing you talked his ear off every chance you had, but there wasn’t a single word or thought in your head that made sense right now.

“I’m sorry,” You apologize meekly, “I don’t know what—what to say.”

Eddie smiles warmly, head resting back against the couch as he slips a finger inside you wordlessly, just the beginning of his first knuckle, not enough of an intrusion to make you feel anything.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” He says softly, “how you feel, maybe?”

“Good,” You chirp quickly, “I’m okay.”

His finger pushes in more, breaching past the tight entrance and you gasp, finally breaking eye contact as your head luls back, gaze caught on the ceiling as he moves slowly, pulling his finger out gently before pushing back in—it’s torture, count throbbing with every movement he made. You could hear the soft ruffle of fabric, metal against metal and a zipper being undone and when you finally have the courage to look up, you’re not sure you’ll ever recover.

It’s not the first dick you’ve seen and you’re not sure it will be the last, but you can’t help staring and taking it all in. They’re never pretty or enticing or enough to make your mouth water—but with Eddie, that’s all out the window.

He’s thick, cut, and everything that intimidates you. He’s confident in the way he holds him, let’s spread wide as his hands come down to cup his balls gently before traveling up his shaft, squeezing over the sensitive head.

“Fuck, sweetheart.” He coos, pulling his working fingers out to glide over your clit, rubbing soft and timid circles until you’re moaning out his name—it’s like music to his ears. “You’ve really never done anything?”

“I’ve—I’ve kissed boys.” You admit, “And girls—but never, never—“

“Never let them touch you,” He finishes for you, “have you?”

You nod, affirming his statement.

“Can I have you?” He asks softly, voice sweet and dripping with adoration, “I want you to be sure, don’t lie to me.”

And you can’t even properly describe how badly you’ve wanted him. It felt like crossing a line—like sleeping with your boss, but lust wins you over.

You nod slowly, “Yes. Just—I don’t know what I’m doing, not really. I don’t want to screw anything up.”

“There’s not much to it,” He comforts, removing his hand from your aching cunt and grabbing your own hand, guiding it over his dick, pulling his shirt up slightly where the tip rests against his lower stomach. You always forget how toned he is, how well he takes care of his body, always hiding himself under his work clothes and suits, “I’ll talk you through, okay?”

“Okay.” You answer, letting him squeeze your fingers around the shaft, dragging your hand up slightly before pulling back down, creating a slow rhythm. He grunts softly, eyes half-lidded as he continues the motion until he thinks you’ve got it, resting his hand over your thigh, traveling up until he can squeeze at the curve of your hip, feet tucked under you as you lean over his lap slightly. It’s like soft velvet against your even softer fingertips—Eddie notices the difference immediately, used to his horrible calloused hands all worked and worn out from his jobs, the joints aching with age. It gets the job down, but it’s never as good as this. Ever.

It does grow boring though—not that you didn’t enjoy every soft sound and subtle face that Eddie made when you squeezed him a little too harshly or teased your thumb over the head of his cock, swirling through the oppulescent precome heading at the tip.

“Can I—“ The words catch in your throat when his eyes lick on, peeking out from under his previously closed eyelids.

He sees the way you glance toward his dick, smiling at your bashful awkwardness and nods, “If you ask nicely, that is.”

He’s only teasing, but he loves watching you squirm, trying to find the courage to ask for what you want. You’re always so confident, sure of yourself—it’s one of the reasons Eddie adored you so much, there was never any doubt with you. He never had to worry.

“Please?” You retort playfully, watching as Eddie’s grin grew wider, “Please, Eddie?”

He nods, urging you down between his spread legs, forcing his jeans down further until he can remove them fully, letting you settle until you're comfortable.

You expect it to feel a little awkward, peering up at him as he does down to you, cock still heavy in your hand as he pushes your hair away, gathering it into his hands skillfully—but truthfully, the feeling never approaches.

You’ve talked to your friends about it before, seen small clips in porn, and none of it ever really made sense, and especially not now as you’re sitting between his legs, staring at his dick and hoping that you weren’t about to make a complete full of yourself.

“Don’t laugh.” You tell him, a small pout forming on your face.

“Never, sweetheart.” He comforts you, free hand rubbing the underside of your chin, following as your lips draw forward, closing over the head of cock, swirling your tongue testingly over the tip, through the slit to taste the salty slick of him that had formed there. Eddie groans softly, the first real noise he’s made all night, face scrunching up in concentration as he cradled your head, hair and all, as you moved your way down, taking him sparingly into your mouth until your lips connected with the hand you had around him, covering what you couldn’t reach.

“That’s it.” He compliments, “Fuck, that’s perfect.”

You barely acknowledge him, but given how hard you were trying to concentrate on not fucking up, he understood. His words flowed freely, openly, and once they started they never stopped.

“Look at you, so pretty with my dick in your mouth.” Eddie says softly, pulling your chin forward slightly from where he had a tight grip on your face, forcing you deeper. You gagged slightly, breathing through your nose. “Hold it, sweetheart. I know you can.”

If you weren’t so eager to please, you would’ve pulled away immediately, but you allow him to hold you there, cock heavy on your tongue until you can’t take it anymore, pulling away with a harsh gasp, lips shining obscenely as you stared up at Eddie.

It’s the same look he had the first time he met you, but a sharp edge of something more, something dangerous.

“Stand up,” He instructs, a guiding hand running along your thigh as you go, fingers delving under your dress to pull at your underwear, slipping the fabric down your legs carefully. He flips the fabric of your dress up, dragging the soft surface of his lips along your upper thigh, eyes following you the entire way, “good, sweetheart—can I taste you?”

You nod quickly, hands cautiously running over the top of his head and through his thick curls, whimpering soundly at the way he chuckles, deep and gruff against your cunt, raising your leg over his shoulder carefully, his hands resting at your back to steady you.

It’s like scolding hot fire with the first touch, his tongue delving deep and running up your cunt, ghosting along your clit as he bites playfully at your folds, looking up at you sparingly to gauge your reaction.

You couldn’t even act like you were able to keep it together, moaning unabashedly as the hands in his hair soon traveled down his back, body curling over him slightly as he made it his mission to torture you relentlessly, sucking at your sensitive clit until you’re softly tapping at his back, silently begging for a break while the words are still caught in your throat.

“Tapping out already?” He teases, squeezing the soft globes of your ass. You shake your head defiantly, peaking his interest

“I want you,” You tell him coyly, “I’ve been thinking about it and—“

“Oh, hey—“ He soothes, “That’s special, you don’t have to give that to me, sweetheart. You’ve already given me plenty.”

Another defiant head shake, shoving his hands away as you took a careful seat on his lap, his eyes following you intensely, arms held out at his side as you seated yourself against his cock, the heat of your cunt striking his body with the reality of this situation.

“No, you don’t get to do that.” You tell him, noticing the concerned look on his face, “I’m capable of making my own decisions.”

Eddie smiles slightly, reaching up to cradle the side of your face tenderly. He can see the subtle pout on your face, bottom lip poking out slightly—and he feels the overwhelming want to kiss you, force it off of your face. So, he does.

And he kisses with a forcefulness you’ve never felt—he’s not timid or unsure. Eddie’s confident, given his experience, he had no reason to doubt himself. You whimpering softly, his teeth pulling your bottom lip in, tongue sneaking its way in and tasting the saltiness of himself on you. He pulls away briefly, nose bumping yours.

“One problem, sweetheart,” Eddie starts regretfully, “I don’t have any condoms—I’m not really used to using them anymore.”

You shake your head fervently, “That’s not a problem.” You assure him, “Trust me.”

You didn’t need to explain and Eddie didn’t feel the need to ask—it wasn’t hard to piece the information together. But god, he’s never been more thankful for modern medicine.

“You sure?” Eddie asks again, lips grazing yours as he speaks, chin resting against his fingers, rubbing delicately at your skin. “I need to hear you say it.”

“Eddie,” You chide softly, “I want you to fuck me.”

He laughs at that, your boldness startling him slightly.

And he doesn’t need to be told more than once, taking control of the situation as he lifts your hips, bracing you over the head of his cock, allowing you to ease down at your own pace. It’s nothing like you were expecting, more of a dull sting if anything—but the filling of fullness, it’s overwhelming.

You rock your hips gently, watching as Eddie’s eyes fell to the place where you were joined with him, dress lifted up slightly as he reached for your clit, rubbing gentle circles to distract your wandering mind—and it works perfectly, gasping when you feel him deep, buried inside you as the back of your thighs hit his lap.

“God, you’re fucking perfect.” He comments idly, eyes falling shut as he leaned back—and it’s infuriating that you can’t see his chest, hidden behind the buttons of his shirt; a ridiculous black button up, making him look well beyond his years. You yank at the buttons with steady hands until the skin peeks through and you can shove the shirt off his shoulders, hands placed firmly against his chest.

You’ve never seen his tattoos this close, not that you could focus much now, but your hand closes over the one of his chest and your blunt fingertips dig into the skin as you lift your hips and seat yourself just as swiftly, punching a ragged groan from the both of you.

“Knew you’d be this good,” Eddie admits, “Thought—thought about it every fucking night.”

“Oh?” You challenge softly, “Tell me?”

Eddie nods, though the struggle to remain cool is evident on his face, losing his focus every time you clench around him, grunting with every little movement you make.

“Just like this,” He admits, “taking me so fucking well, too.”

You nod in agreement, humming as you leaned forward to drag your lips along his jawline, “Like…I was made for you?” You ask teasingly, giggling at his airy groan.

“You’re fucking devious,” Eddie retorts, “not nearly as innocent as I thought you’d be.”

His hands grip your hips tightly, pulling you impossibly deeper, closer, and you can’t bother to keep yourself upright, letting him do the work, hips snapping into you with force.

“What—what do you mean?” You stammer through broken gasps, “I’m so innocent, Eddie.”

“Not a chance,” Eddie disagrees, eyes squeezing tight as he buried his face into your neck, sucking a faint bruise into the skin, “be honest with me.”

“I wasn’t—wasn’t lying.” You respond, words dying out on a desperate plea, his hand snaking between you both, rubbing insistent circles over your clit. “I don’t do this stuff—was waiting for the right person, you know?”

Eddie nearly comes then, panting desperately into your skin.

“You think I’m the right person?” Eddie asks redundantly, given your current situation—that was pretty goddamn obvious.

“Your cock is inside me, what do you think?” You ask playfully, eyebrows furrowing in anguish as Eddie makes a quick pass over your swollen bundle of nerves, driving you over the edge unexpectedly, clinging to Eddie out of instinct, letting him rock you through the duration of your orgasms until he’s coming deep inside you, legs shaking as he groans pitifully.

And despite his obvious exhaustion, he retorts a snarky, “I think I’m the perfect person, sweetheart.”

You smile, leaning forward to press a sloppy, passionately filled kiss against his lips, nodding slightly at his response.

“Same time next week?” You ask cheekily and Eddie chuckles in response, biting gently at your shoulder at your obvious playfulness.

Eddie hums thoughtfully, “How about tomorrow?”

And even if you had plans, they diminished into thin air, offering Eddie an affirmative smile.

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