#i didn’t even realize i was wandering aimlessly until my mom pointed it out. she always had to distract me– give me smth to do | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

spine-buster · 1 year ago

Text

portofino ft. kenny omega

gif credit @/stukky

Length: 23k Summary: You and Tyson have history. Lots of it. When you met, you could have never envisioned he would be in your life the way he still is. But things get complicated, and tricky, and complex. Things hurt – lots of things hurt. And things can only get worse before they can get better, right? A/N: my first wrestling fic since 2017. The formatting and spacing on this is super fucked up and not idea and I apologize for that, but Tumblr's new and "improved" text editor is literally the fucking worst and glitches SO much that the most I could do was this. This will also be posted on my AO3 (@/spinebuster) if you prefer there!

10th May 2023

it only hurts this much right now was what i was thinking the whole time

You were crying again.

At this point, you were basically just leaking.

You didn’t want Tyson to find out, so you tried with all your might to stop yourself, rubbing away your tears with the back of your hand and trying to steady your breathing. You breathed in and out, in and out, in and out. You hoped no-one else around noticed. But it was hard when there were so many people, hard when you were friends with practically all of them, hard when any little hint of water or redness of your eye could cause someone like Austin or Hikaru or Dustin to speak up and ask you what was wrong. You almost wanted to hide in a closet until you calmed down, but that was childish.

You went into one of the washrooms backstage anyway, not bothering to go into a stall but checking them all quickly anyway to ensure nobody else was with you. When you knew you were clear, you stood in front of the sink, looking at yourself in the mirror. Your cheeks were red, your eyes were watery. You sighed.

“Get it together, Hazel,” you mumbled to yourself. You so desperately needed to get it the fuck together. “Stop crying. You’re such a baby.”

The pep talk didn’t help much.

***

“Have you seen Hazel anywhere?” Tyson asked Nick as he unraveled the tape around his wrists.

“Nah,” he answered, shaking his head. “Probably went back to the hotel a bit early.”

“Why would she do that?” Tyson asked. Matt, from behind his brother, gave one of his best friends a look. “Oh. Right,” Tyson realized.

“Don’t think she wants to hang out here anymore than she needs to,” Nick commented.

“Can you blame her?” Matt asked his brother.

“Not in the slightest.”

***

You had the TV on for background noise as you went about your routines and wandered aimlessly around the hotel room. It was pitch black outside in Detroit; you couldn’t even see anything out the window besides the lights from the hotel parking lot. What a view. You tried to distract yourself with the TV, sitting down on the suite’s couch, but you couldn’t even do that. Your legs pushed you back up to wander more. You’d check your phone and texted your mom back. You texted Hikaru that maybe brunch would be a better idea tomorrow instead of meeting her in the lobby for the continental breakfast, knowing what tomorrow morning would probably look like.

At some point, you heard some noise and voices from outside your room. Not long after, the sounds of a key card swiping, and finally the turn of the doorknob. You were greeted with Tyson – or, more so, Tyson was greeted with you, since you were the one in his room. It wasn’t a surprise that you were there, but it was still a welcome sight. It was better than being alone.

“Hey,” you greeted him. It had been about an hour since you stopped crying, so you hoped your eyes and face had stopped showing it.

“Hazel, hey,” he said, smiling at you, despite what he had just been through. He wheeled his bag in behind him before the door shut on its own. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you lied. “Are you okay?”

“I’ll live,” he shrugged. He’d been saying that a lot lately. You hated when he did. “You left early.”

You nodded quickly, apologetically. “I didn’t want to stick around. Knowing that he’s lurking around, you know…I just didn’t want to have to deal with it.”

“I didn’t even see him, for what it’s worth. If you stayed in our locker room you would’ve been good.”

The two of you didn’t even have to say his name for you to understand. In some ways, you were glad he acted as a buffer, an excuse you could pull, that way you could hide why you really left early. “I watched most of the match, I swear. Until I couldn’t anymore.”

“When was that?”

“When you guys broke the cage,” you were finally honest, just slightly.

“So you didn’t see Don stab me with a screwdriver.”

You winced. “No. But you at least told me about that. You didn’t tell me the cage was going to break.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice solemn. “You know how these matches get put together. Things get added. Things get taken out.”

Did you ever. But you still couldn’t get used to how…well, violent Tyson’s matches were getting. Unnecessary violence. Unnecessary risk. There was no reason for Tyson to bleed, and now you felt he was bleeding every week. You didn’t know how much longer you’d last. “How’s your knee?” you asked, since you saw it get caught up in the cage when it broke, causing you to cry in the first place. He’d just taken time off for double knee surgery; you were scared he was taking it too far.

“Knees are fine. As good as they can be,” he assured you. “Can you…can you help me with something else, though?”

“Of course. What is it?”

“There’s, umm, there’s some scratches on my back. I need someone to take off the big bandage, apply this cream the doctor gave me, and tape on a new bandage.”

“Okay,” you nodded slightly. You’d done a version of this countless times before but it never got easier. Just like watching him do these kinds of matches never got easier. “Do you want to sit on the bed?”

He changed out of his gym shorts and into his pyjama shorts first so he could sleep right afterwards. You watched as he sat on the bed, handing you the ointment. When you unravelled the bandage, your stomach was in knots about how big it was. “Ty…”

“It’s going to look worse than it feels,” he warned. “It doesn’t feel that bad, Hazel. I promise.” He took off his shirt then, slowly, grunting slightly. The bandage covered nearly half his back. You held your breath, trying to keep your emotions in check. “The tape that’s holding the bandage in place – it doesn’t hurt. You can just peel it off,” he instructed. “I have more for when you put the new one on.”

You started peeling away the tape, discarding it beside you as you. When it was fully peeled, the bandage still stayed in place, which only meant to you it was sticking onto his skin because of the blood. You held your breath again as you took the bandage off, but fully gasped loudly in horror, your breath taken away when you saw the state of his back. “Oh Ty…” you cried.

“Hazel—”

“Tyson, what did you do? What did you do?” you begged from him. You brought your hand up, tracing the scratches and cuts delicately with your fingertips. “Tyson…” he had to hear the pain in your voice.

“I’m sorry, Hazel. I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m so sorry.”

And that’s when it began again: the tears. You grabbed the ointment and unscrewed the cap, taking in the full picture of his back. You cried silently, tears falling down your face as you would apply small bits of ointment to your fingers before rubbing it along all the scratches. You would do this for Tyson until the day you died, but you hated that it had to be like this. The two of you had always looked out for one another – Tyson more so, for obvious reasons, but that was a whole other story – but seeing his body mutilated like this twisted something in you that you couldn’t kick. It was one thing to see Kenny after a 60-minute match with Okada, body bruised and banged up but all in one piece; it was another thing to see barbed wire and nail scratches, cuts, and footprints on his face.

He winced in pain every so often and you’d keel, hating yourself for hurting him when you were supposed to be helping him. You tried not to let him hear you cry, but you were sure the couple of sniffles gave it away. When you finally asked for the tape for the bandage and your voice cracked, you were positive.

Tyson handed you the tape, but turned around slightly to see you. “You’re crying. Why are you crying?” he asked.

You shook your head to ignore him. You unravelled the tape and began ripping strips to use. “Turn around.”

“Hazel—”

“Sit still.”

Tyson stayed silent. You positioned the bandage to cover all the scratches before taping it into place. When you were done, you tossed the tape to the side, the rest of his back looking fairly normal besides the scars you already knew about. Unable to control yourself, you leaned forward and pressed your cheek to his skin on his back between his shoulder blades, inhaling and exhaling deeply. Tyson felt what you were doing, the skin-to-skin contact an instantaneous feeling, and breathed in and out along with you. You savoured the feeling of the Tyson you knew on your skin. Not mutilated Tyson. Not banged up Tyson. Just the Tyson you knew for twelve years, the Tyson who looked out for you, the Tyson who was your mentor.

“I’m sorry, Hazel,” he whispered, his words sincere. He hated seeing, feeling you so upset.

“Can I stick around tonight?” you asked.

“You never have to ask. You just can.”

When you crawled to step off the bed, Tyson grabbed your arm to prevent you from going anywhere momentarily. You wanted to get the feeling of tears off your face, but he had other plans. You were right at his side, so so close. “I really am sorry,” he told you. “I hate seeing you like this.”

Tears were coming again. You didn’t try to stop them this time. You still shook your head and tried to wipe them away. “It’s just getting harder and harder for me to watch you put your body through these hardcore matches,” you admitted. “Sometimes I just wish you’d stick to what you’re good at. And that’s not to say you’re not good at the hardcore stuff, because you are – you’re good at everything. I just wish I didn’t have to see your body be mutilated for the sake of spectacle. I hate—I hate seeing what you have to do. You, more than anyone, know how to put on a spectacle without having to do that shit. I hate seeing you destroy your body, Ty. I just hate it. I’m sorry.”

He nodded his head in understanding. “I know it’s hard. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” was all he could say.

Tyson waited for you to wash your face and put on one of his t-shirts before the both of you got into bed. You wondered if you should get close at all, possibly even touch him, and you were about to decide against him until he winced again, trying to get into a comfortable position. It was at that point that your body physically moved towards his before your mind knew what it was doing. It was like a fight-or-flight response. He found a comfortable position sleeping on his side, and you curled up right against his back like the big spoon, despite being two-thirds his size.

In the quietness of the room, with the low hum of the air conditioner the only noise, you placed a kiss on his shoulder. He didn’t say anything, but you knew he felt it.

***

The next morning, you woke up still snuggled into Tyson. You both had inevitably shifted throughout the night: Tyson was lying on his back, apparently able to do so without pain, while you were sleeping right up against him. When you opened your eyes, you saw that he was still sound asleep, one arm draped over his chest.

“Haze?” you heard him mumble in a groggy voice.

Okay, so maybe he wasn’t fully asleep. “Hmm?”

“Thank you for last night,” he said.

You didn’t answer right away. “I’ll always be there to help you, Tyson. You know that.”

He moved so that the arm that had been squished against you was now around you, pulling you into his body even more than you already were. The usual smell of him filled your airways; it practically made you drunk. Drunk enough to fall back asleep, his body bringing you peace as much as it did pain.

***

11th May 2023

time won't fly, it's like I'm paralyzed by it i'd like to be my old self again, but i'm still trying to find it

When you were back in Orlando, you settled into the solace of your apartment, unpacking immediately and throwing your clothes in the washing machine. You were called a psychopath more than once by Stephen for being that type of person – especially after it became a meme on the internet – but you couldn’t help it. You had even packed Tyson’s shirt that you’d slept in last night, seeing it mixed in with your other clothes before you threw in a Tide Pod and closed the door.

After unpacking, you set your suitcase in your closet and resolved to have a bowl of lime tortilla chips as you sat on the couch and scrolled through Instagram and cuddled with your ragdoll cat, Zadie. You needed to disconnect from wrestling for a bit, from flashbacks of seeing Tyson’s scratched-up back whipping through your mind every other minute. But as you sat down on your couch, bowl or tortilla chips in hand, you couldn’t help but notice your most prized belongings: your wrestling accolades you had organized neatly on the wall and in the media unit that surrounded your TV. Your Match of the Year plaques from 2014 and 2015. Your Woman of the Year awards. A women’s belt. Framed photographs of you wrestling. Frame photographs of you with your friends. With your family. With Tyson.

Sometimes it felt like a lifetime ago and sometimes it felt like you had to retire yesterday. You had enjoyed an amazing but short career. You’d had a lot of ups, a lot of downs, a lot of heartbreaks, a lot of memorable moments. There was the time you’d gone 20-minutes with Toni Storm in a match that ended up getting over a million views on YouTube. You’d performed in infamous Reseda, in the PWG arena, to the most raucous crowd you’d ever performed in front of. You had travelled to America, Japan, the UK, Germany, Italy, France, Mexico, and Ireland to wrestle. You had hype. You had respect. People wrote about you. People paid to see you. People lined up for you at meet and greets. People wanted your autograph and your t-shirts at shows, handing you wads of cash for two medium and two kids’ t-shirts so the whole family could match. While you had made a name for yourself, you’d racked up the injuries too. There was the broken wrist early on, which wasn’t that bad – from a show in Toronto where you just landed awkwardly. You were able to finish the match, and thanks to the Canadian health care system you held so dear, it was in a cast just a few hours later. There was a broken ankle that actually forced you to stay back from a tour of Ireland that many of your friends went on.

At one point in 2014, you were booked to wrestle against a women’s wrestler, fairly new to the scene, named Bea Priestley. The both of you had gone over the match beforehand, but once in the ring, she did nothing you two spoke about. That was fine – you were a professional – but Bea was wrestling stiff, and you were getting angrier every passing moment in the ring, even warning her to cool it. When she actually did one of the sequences you’d called beforehand, she ended up breaking your sternum. You had to be out for twelve weeks. You never heard from Bea. It was fine. Whatever.

But the next time Bea Priestley wrestled you, she broke your neck.

You told her you didn’t want to take anything too risky. “Why? You don’t trust me?” she had the audacity to ask you. During the match, when she picked you up and flipped you upside down, you knew what was coming, so you tried to get into a safe position. But none of that mattered. Nothing would have saved you.

You remembered dropping on you head, and you remember seeing a light, and you remember your whole body going limp. It felt like you weight a million pounds; you were completely paralyzed from the neck down. You couldn’t move, and it was the scariest seconds of your life. Rick Knox immediately noticed. You closed your eyes and willed your brain to wiggle your fingers, and after about five or six seconds, you felt them rubbing against each other, even just slightly. You remembered seeing Bea try to kick you, but Rick Knox earnestly holding her back. When he pushed her far enough away, he knelt down by your head. “Haze, what happened?” he asked. You knew your body. You knew what this was. You told Rick not to touch you, that you had broken your neck.

You remember him throwing up one of the most emphatic X’s you’d ever seen and the whole crowd going silent. Rick was screaming something, but you were focused on the worst pain you’d ever felt in your neck as you began feeling again in your extremities. After that, so much was a blur. You remember Austin somehow being beside your face too, telling you everything was going to be okay – you later learned he was watching from the back and ran out the second Rick threw up the X. You remember Dustin being there too, doing much of what Austin was doing, giving Bea dirty looks – you later learned he was the one who called the ambulance. Austin and Dustin were very likely the reasons things weren’t worse, the reason why you were still walking.

At the hospital they ran x-rays and MRIs and other tests, as usual, and they put a neck brace on you. Dustin had followed you to the hospital to explain everything to the emergency doctors, Austin and Kyle and Candice following close behind in a car. When the results finally came back, it was even worse than you – than everybody – thought.

“Your disc hit your spinal cord, which is why you saw the white light,” the doctor explained. “That’s what caused the temporary paralysis.”

“So I broke it, like I thought,” you wanted the confirmation. People had recovered from broken necks before. So many had been able to get back into the ring.

The doctor sighed. “Miss Fiore…” she began. “Your disc hit your spinal cord. You didn’t fracture your neck. You didn’t break it. What you suffered is what we refer to as a spinal cord concussion. You don’t have to sever your spinal cord to be paralyzed for life, you could just touch it and be paralyzed for life. This…what happened to you…is technically worse.”

You remember feeling as if the blood drained from your body. “Paralyzed?”

She sighed again. “Miss Fiore…you have a very, very similar injury to Christopher Reeve. Your C2 is what controls your breathing. The truth is, when it hit your spinal cord, you should have suffocated to death in the ring. Out of the five percent of people that survive this injury, ninety-nine percent are paralyzed. It’s quite literally a miracle that you are still able to walk.”

You had emergency spinal fusion surgery less than 24 hours later. Four screws, a rod, and sixteen staples created a gnarly, awful scar on your neck that was still visible whenever you had your hair up.

Your wrestling career was over.

Your phone buzzed loudly from your coffee table, breaking your train of thought. At least it kept you from crying. When you picked it up, you noticed Tyson’s name flash across the screen.

Want to come up and watch some Netflix or something? We can even keep watching that German duchess show you like. Promise.

He lived in one of the penthouses on the 34th floor, while you lived in a two bedroom on the 18th. How embarrassing was that? Even your living situations were inextricably linked. You swiped your phone open and texted him back quickly.

It’s okay. I need some time alone. Let’s go for coffee tomorrow or something.

It was Dustin who had to make the call to Tyson when you were in the hospital. He was in Japan on a tour, and word hadn’t gotten to him. Dustin told you he had freaked out on the phone, like completely freaked out. After your surgery and after all your visitors had left, your room surrounded by flowers and get well soon cards, you FaceTimed him. He picked up on barely the second ring. It was the first time you’d ever seen him tear up, though you later learned he didn’t completely break down until after he hung up. You tried to cheer him up, telling him the first thing you were going to do when you were cleared was go to Japan to see him. He made you promise not to fly unless a doctor said it was okay. He had two weeks off in about a month’s time and resolved to stay with you for the duration to help you. You told him it wasn’t necessary, but he insisted.

Those two weeks were when you realized Tyson would be in your life forever.

You’d still done well for yourself since then. You ended up starting a variety of projects – a podcast, becoming a semi-influencer on Instagram. But perhaps most successful, and what kept your memory alive in the hearts and minds of wrestling fans worldwide despite not fighting in the ring anymore, was your YouTube series. Kick Out in the Kitchen. A series you started, inspired by the memory of your dad who was a chef, where you invited wrestlers to help you cook increasingly complex dishes. You’d interview them along the way, teach them how to properly cut an onion, and make sure they didn’t slice off a finger in the process. It was hysterical, and it was a hit.

Your life was good. It really was. You had amazing friends, you had your career, you had your mom in Winnipeg, you had an apartment, you had Tyson. But sometimes you ached for the past; sometimes you wanted to still be in the ring, winning championships and changing the wrestling landscape just like your close friends were doing. That just wasn’t in the cards for you, and that’s okay. But it still hurt sometimes.

Your phone buzzed again, the badge rolling down from the top of your screen.

Are you sure? Need to talk?

I’m good. Thanks Ty <3 see you tomorrow.

***

It all began with Portofino.

Well, it all really began with Tyson making a remark about how you always carried a book around in your gym bag. You were in Winnipeg then, training to become a wrestler, and he’d visited the school on a trip home from Japan in 2011. “I promised my mom I’d graduate university before pursuing wrestling full-time,” you had explained to him. “She wants me to have a degree. It’s a non-negotiable.”

The book in question that he saw that day was An Artist of the Floating World by Kazuo Ishiguro. He was intrigued by the Japanese name of the author more than anything, although when you told him the synopsis, he perked up quite considerably.

He was 28 at the time. You were 20.

You were so, so young, but you were the only one that had spoken to him at length about your vision of what pro wrestling is and what pro wrestling could be. You listened to him more intently than anyone else in your class when he spoke of his time in Japan. You’d seen the match he had at his cottage. You saw his match against nine-year-old Haruka and against Yoshihiko the blow-up doll. Some of your fellow trainees looked at you weird. You were the only one who had expressed any interest in travelling somewhere other than the United States for pro wrestling – maybe go to the UK, or do a tour of Europe, or, if you were lucky enough, do a tour of Japan.

By the end of the week, Tyson gave you his number and said if you were ever in Japan to contact him.

You did more than that. You didn’t just wait the two years between meeting him and graduating to speak to him again. You actively kept in touch with him. You became friends as you learned more about each other. So much so that after local shows on weekends, travelling to Toronto, Calgary, Vancouver, and Pasadena in the summers to wrestle, and graduation, when you arrived in Japan for the first time he picked you up from the airport.

He looked out for you. He always did.

He always would.

***

PORTOFINO, 2014

i'd live and die for moments that we stole on begged and borrowed time

You found yourself squished in the backseat of a tiny Italian car between Matt Jackson and Kenny Omega, Tommaso Ciampa in the driver’s seat and Nick Jackson in the passenger’s seat. That’s who they were last night, anyway, participating in matches and stealing the show in Genoa, Italy. Today, you were just Matt, Tyson, Tommaso, Nick, and Hazel going to Portofino.

The promoter who had lured you all (and more) to Italy for a mini tour had mentioned the famous Italian Riviera town was only an hour away, so on the two days off you had between shows, you all decided to go. Nick had found the hotel and booked the rooms. Tommaso volunteered to drive. A car with Austin, Kyle, Johnny, Candice, and Bobby were following close behind you.

“You’re not squished, are you? D’you have enough room?” Tyson asked as he looked down at your frame, tiny in comparison to the bulk that surrounded you.

“I’ll live,” you assured him. “Besides, you’re the one with your knees up to your chin. Why didn’t you demand the front seat?”

“I couldn’t leave you in the middle between Matt and Nick,” he said, as if it was his moral obligation to protect you from two of the nicest guys on earth. “Besides, Nick wants to learn more Italian.”

“Nick can barely speak English.”

“Whatja just say about me?” he hissed playfully from the backseat. A smile spread across Tyson’s face. “You’re gonna pay for that, Hazel.”

“I’m terrified.”

“You’re fearless, huh?” Tommaso joked from the front seat, looking at you through his rearview mirror.

“Not fearless. I’m scared of a lot of things,” you clarified, being honest. “But Matt and Nick aren’t one of ‘em.”

When you all got into town, you checked into the hotel. It was obvious that Matt and Nick would share a room together, just like it was obvious Johnny and Candice would, too. After Austin paired up with Kyle (they were, technically, the other couple on the trip), and Tomasso paired up with Bobby, you and Tyson were inevitably the only pair left. Was it normal for a young female wrestler to sleep in a room with her mentor during a trip to Italy? Who knows. You (and Candice) were used to being the only girls in the room a lot. This was no different. All you knew was that it didn’t matter to you: you knew Tyson, and everybody else, and it was the last thing on your mind because what really mattered was that you were in Italy.

Tyson unlocked the hotel room, the both of you pulling your bags in behind you. There were two single beds placed together in the room, a window and a door out to the balcony providing the perfect cross breeze.

“Okay, we’re not in a university dorm,” you commented, scoffing at the setup of the beds before pushing them together. Tyson just watched. You looked up at him. “You need sunscreen?”

“Uh, yeah,” he nodded his head.

You found it in your bag and tossed it over to him. You walked over to the small balcony and stepped out, taking in the view of the harbour from the room. You guys got lucky, the way that this hotel was even available on such short notice – and five rooms at that. The sun was shining, there was a slight breeze, and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. That alone told you that it was going to be a great day.

You had been admiring the view of the harbour so much that you almost didn’t hear Tyson step out and join you on the balcony. It was so small that between your bodies and the two chairs, it was full. “Matt and Nick texted to meet in the lobby in fifteen,” he said. “Are you good with that?”

Your bathing suit was already on underneath your sun dress, so you nodded your head. “Just need the sunscreen,” you mentioned, and he handed it to you. You perched your leg up on one of the chairs to slather the sunscreen on your leg, bringing it all the way up to the tops of your thighs. Tyson couldn’t help but stare at your legs and not the view of the harbour. You tried not to smile about it and looked away instead. “Do we know where we’re going, by the way? Portofino doesn’t exactly have a beach.”

Tyson furrowed his brows. “How do you know?”

“My dad was from around here, remember?”

Tyson nodded at your reminder. “That’s right. Sorry, I forgot.”

You’d told Tyson a lot of stories about your dad since you met him, and every time you told a story, mentioned a characteristic, an odd quirk your dad used to do, he’d always listened intently. You’d lost your dad to cancer at fifteen years old, and you missed him every day since. It left a hole in you. Understanding how close you and your dad were, Tyson always made sure to remember the details. You mentioned to him once how you actually liked speaking about him because it meant you were keeping his memory alive, and Tyson told you he thought that was the most touching thing he’d ever heard.

“You don’t have to apologize,” you said, moving on to your other leg. “I remember coming here as a kid. The beaches are really rocky. Either we get lucky and there’s nobody, or we have to find our own private place.”

He watched your hands travel up your thighs. “You should take the reins on that, then,” he said. You could see his Adam’s apple bob in his neck. “Tommaso’s Italian is shit.”

You did. Eventually, when you and the group made it down to the harbour, you asked in your broken Italian where the best place was – you probably sounded like a caveman – and some delightful locals pointed you in the right direction. Like you remembered, it was rocky, but you found enough spots on huge flat rocks for towels and bags. The best part was you were right beside a climbable cliff, so you knew all the guys would be doing crazy jumps. The entire afternoon was spent between tanning on the rocks and cooling off in the water. You had jumped off the cliff with Candice, with Tyson, and with Austin. You swam in the water and got your hair wet and let the sunlight hit your face. You’d caught Tyson’s eye so many times you lost count. You felt pure happiness.

There was a moment after you jumped off the cliff for the second time with Tyson – a good photo op, according to Matt taking them – where you held hands as your ran and plummeted into the water. Even underwater, despite the pressure, your hands stayed clasped. It was only when you got back to the surface that your hands separated. You could see Tyson’s smile. “You alright?” he asked.

You only nodded. You paddled the small distance over to him and attached your whole body to his. You don’t know what came over you, but you wrapped your legs around his torso underwater, and as you did you could feel his hands go to your thighs. Your arms wrapping around his shoulders, attaching yourself to him piggy-back style. He looked behind his shoulder to see you. “You sure you’re okay?”

You nodded again. “I just feel like being close to you,” you admitted. “Is that okay?”

There was a slight pause. “Of course,” he said. “You want to stay out here for a bit?”

“Yeah. Just you and me for a little bit,” you said. “Are you having fun?”

“I’m having the time of my life.”

“It sucks that we only get one day. This area of Italy is so beautiful. Have you ever been?”

“No. This is my first time,” he revealed. “I’m just happy I’m getting to spend it with you.”

You smiled, giving him as much of a hug as you could by squeezing your limbs around him tighter. “You’re going to have to come back and spend a decent amount of time here. I remember coming here when I was nine to visit my dad’s family, and, Ty—Portofino isn’t even the most beautiful town on the water. And the food – the food!”

He smiled. “We’re going to have to find a place tonight. You’ll have to use your Italian again. Find us the best restaurant in the town.”

There was silence between the two of you, the noise from the waves and from your friends and the other tourists filling the air instead. You leaned your head forward so it was settled right into his shoulder. “Hey Ty?” your voice was low this time.

“Hmm?”

“I’m happy I get to spend it with you, too. Sometimes I feel like all I want to do is spend time with you.”

Tyson felt the same. His breath caught in his throat. All he could do was nod. “Yeah…yeah.”

That night, after showering the salt water off and changing into another flowy dress, you all went out for dinner and had the best pasta and fish and wine you’d ever had in your life. The waiter fell in love with your group and kept bringing you goodies: glasses of wine from the cellar, shots from the bar, extra plates of tiramisu or bombe. Your stomach was full but your heart was fuller, and you didn’t want the day to end.

Retiring back to the hotel meant you and Tyson would be alone again. After the both of you packed away your things so you were already packed for tomorrow morning, you changed into pyjamas and got in to your pushed together beds. Tyson browsed through his phone a bit before setting it on his beside and turning over to his side to sleep.

You, on the other hand, could not.

You kept thinking of the feeling of his hands on your body. It wasn’t like it was a new sensation – you trained with him constantly. But there was something about the way he touched it when you were both in the water, the way nobody could see how his arms wrapped around you or how his hands went to your thighs to wrap your legs around his body as he gave you a piggy-back ride. Even at dinner, sitting beside you at the table on the patio overlooking the water, his forearm rubbing up against yours underneath the table since your group was so squished together.

It was electric. And now, all that electricity was in you with nowhere to go.

So much time had passed that you were 95% sure he was asleep. If you were to say anything, you’d definitely be waking him up from his beauty sleep. “Ty…” you mumbled out, still unsure if you even should as you stared up at the ceiling.

“Hazel?”

Well, at least you felt less bad about it now. “Can you sleep?”

“Nah,” he said. “Can you?”

“I think the sun today energized my body to the point where I can re-enact Shawn and Bret’s iron man match.”

You could hear Tyson giggle from his side of the bed. “Are you Bret or Shawn in that scenario?”

“Both.”

He snorted. You could feel him shift positions so that he could look at you now. You turned over to your side as well. “I’m dead serious. I feel, like, buzzed.”

“I’m sure one of the guys has melatonin if you’re really worried,” he said.

You shook your head. “I’ll be fine,” you assured him. “Can I see all the pictures you took today?”

Tyson had learned a long time ago from his good friend Rami Sebei that he should be taking pictures of all the places he went and everything he saw and did (just as Rami did), so he made it a point since then to do just that. He leaned over and unplugged his phone from the nightstand, and when he began to set back into his spot in bed, you didn’t let him until you had fit yourself into his side. He didn’t even think twice as you did so, wrapping his arm around your body as you nestled your head against his chest. You were so close he could smell the product you’d put into your hair. You giggled through all the photos, at Austin’s terrified face the first time he jumped, versus Matt and Nick contemplating whether they could do a shooting star press into the water. You saw the pictures he took of you and Candice hugging each other, and the pictures Bobby took of you and Tyson together on the rocks and posing in the shallow part of the water. The more you laughed and smiled, the more he did too.

When you’d seen all the photos, Tyson put his phone back on the nightstand but you stayed right where you were. He laid back, savouring the feeling of your head on his chest, of your arm draped across him, how your fingertips had tip-toed and glided along his skin every time you laughed at a picture.

“Can I ask you a question?” you asked, moving to look at him.

“Of course.”

“How lame did you think I was the first time you met me?”

He giggled again. So distinct in its sound; you’d be able to hear it from a mile away. “I didn’t think you were lame at all,” he was smiling at you. “I was actually shocked at how mature you were for your age, and how much you could talk about pro wrestling – more than anyone else in that class, that’s for sure. You were a bit of a freak, but I liked you. I don’t think you’re lame, or were lame.”

“I feel like you’re lying to me.”

“I’m not lying,” he assured you. “I’d never lie to you. Trust me on that one.”

“I’d never lie to you, either,” you said, butterflies in your stomach.

You were looking right in Tyson’s blue eyes then, hyperaware of the feeling of his fingertips grazing over the skin on your arm. His sunkissed skin, his eye crinkles, the scruff of his beard – it all added up in making you push yourself up so you could kiss him. It was very soft at first, but not hesitant, and when you pulled away you looked into his eyes, only to kiss him again.

He kissed back, moving his lips in perfect sync with yours as you continued, kiss after kiss after kiss. You don’t know how long you’d been kissing for, but eventually, it was your tongue that grazed his lips first, and soon you were tasting each other. After more time, he pushed back slightly so you were on your back, and gently, gently he got on top of you.

“Is this okay?” was the only thing he mumbled between when you started kissing and that moment.

“Please, Ty,” you nodded your head slightly and quickly. “We’ve been waiting all day.”

You both took it slow, surprisingly, despite all the pent up energy from the day. You wanted to make it last. Tyson’s body loomed over yours for a while, kissing your lips and your neck with such expertise you hadn’t experienced from anywhere else. You remembered cradling his face and running your fingers through his curly hair and thinking to yourself how lucky you were to be under him, to be with him like this so intimately. It wasn’t just that he’d been kind to you from the beginning, or that he’d taken you under his wing and acted as your mentor, especially in Japan, or that he’d looked out for you anywhere you found yourselves. It was that he was so considerate in his everyday life, so wise and so funny – God, did he ever make you laugh – and so passionate about his dreams and goals. A translation of that was happening right now, on a twin bed in a hotel room in Portofino, Italy.

Tyson had already been shirtless in bed, so all you really had to do was push down his boxers. You could feel the length and size of him against your body then, and your breath could only hitch in your throat in anticipation of what was to happen very soon. Your breathing got heavier as he helped you pull off your pyjama top, and you didn’t feel an ounce of self-consciousness as he looked down at your nearly naked body. He brought his kisses down your chest and along both your breasts before pulling down your bottoms.

He kissed you as he entered you, but you broke it as you let out a soft “Oh Jesus” at the feeling. His lips left yours and looked into your eyes then, making sure everything was okay without even saying anything. He grabbed each of your hands in his, intertwining your fingers before pushing them above your head, looking deep in to your eyes without looking away. You began moaning softly, involuntarily, at the pressure you felt of him holding you in that position as he moved in and out of you, your hips crashing together with every one of his thrusts. His eyes were blue – so blue – but you knew they were filled with fire. You were sure that your moans got slightly louder as the time passed, mixed in with your pants of his name every time he hit just the right spot.

At some point he let go of your hands and they immediately went to cup his face, pulling him down to kiss you so you could stick your tongue down his throat again. You didn’t stop kissing after that, your hands making their way up and down his torso, gripping on to his sides before moving up and settling underneath his arms and scratching at his shoulders and back. You were in heaven. Everything felt like pure bliss. The endless kisses, the moans from you and the moans from him. You had never felt anything so incredible in your life.

You noticed when Tyson’s breathing became more laboured, and you knew he was close. You were too. You dug your nails into his shoulders and tried to arch your hips just right. Hearing him grunt and let out a string of expletives under his breath was all you needed to do it again. “I’m so close,” you whispered, looking right into his eyes.

“Hazel…fuck…” was all he could let out.

“I want you to come inside me, Tyson.”

He didn’t last much longer after that, but he made sure you got there first. He looked into your eyes the whole time as he watched your orgasm overcome you, coursing through your body and making you moan out his name and dig your nails into his biceps. Only then did he allow himself his release, coming inside you, a series of grunts and moans of your name leaving him as he had his head buried in the crook of your neck.

You stayed together for a while, relishing in every last bit of what had just happened between you before Tyson couldn’t hold himself up on his forearms anymore. There was one last, long kiss before he pulled out of you. He lay by your side, still so close to your body. You couldn’t help the smile that overtook your face, and when you turned your head to look at him, he had an identical smile on his face, too.

Despite earlier complaints from the both of you of being unable to fall asleep, you had no trouble doing so now, your eyes feeling heavy and fluttering until you fell into a peaceful sleep.

The next morning was quiet except for the sound of birds chirping outside your window. The light was shining through from the morning sun, and when you opened your eyes and finally came to at least semi-consciousness, you saw and felt Tyson’s body underneath yours. He had an arm wrapped around you and were using him as a pillow.

Memories of what happened last night flooded your mind as you waited for him to wake up. From looking at the photos of the day to kissing him and then being under him, you remembered everything in vivid detail. You hadn’t been part of something so passionate in your life. It could have only happened with Tyson, too – you couldn’t picture it being with anyone else.

After a while, you felt him shift underneath you and groan, bringing his free hand up to rub his eyes. You began to trace shapes on his chest so he knew you were awake too. When he looked at you, a small, tired smile played on his lips. “Mornin’,” he whispered. “You good?”

“I’m good,” you nodded. “You sleep okay?”

“It was perfect.”

You smiled. “Even with me hogging the covers?”

“You actually didn’t this time. I was surprised,” he said, pulling your body so you were anchored right on top of his. He wiggled a bit to get comfortable, shifting the beds. “You were right about what you said last night, by the way. We’d been waiting for a while.”

You bit your bottom lip, nodding slightly. “You felt it too then, huh?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Of course I did.”

There was silence between you. Suddenly, a feeling came over you like lightning, seizing your whole body. You never used to be like this, but once you lost your dad, your emotions sometimes came in quick rushes – tsunamis, you sometimes referred to them – and you could never stop it from happening. You just had to learn how to deal with it, how to verbalize the emotion to solve it so you could go back to normal. This time, it wasn’t one of self-consciousness, or full-blown anxiety, or fear of the unknown, or anything major. It wasn’t even hesitation. It was just a nervousness; a nervousness of the soul. “This isn’t gonna change anything between us, is it?” you asked, verbalizing the first thing you became nervous about. Not having Tyson in your life wasn’t an option at this point.

“No,” he shook his head. “No it won’t.”

“And this won’t – I mean, you’re not gonna think differently about me, are you?” you continued. “Because I don’t – I know what it’s like for women in this business. I don’t want anybody thinking of me differently because of what we did—”

“Hey hey hey, shhhhh,” Tyson cooed. “Nobody’s going to think differently about you. Don’t think that. Nobody’s gonna know. It’ll stay between you and me, Hazel. I mean it.”

“Are you sure?” you asked. Not having the career you worked so hard to build also wasn’t an option at this point. People not respecting you wasn’t an option in general. You knew that respect would be gone if people knew you’d slept with your mentor. You could already imagine the things that would be said. You’d never earn anything on your own merit anymore; it would always be because you slept with Kenny Omega.

“Hazel, I would never,” he shook his head. “Like I said, we’d been waiting for a while. It happened. I don’t—I mean, I don’t think either of us regrets it—”

“—I don’t.”

“—Neither of us regrets it, but I don’t want anybody to know either. Nobody has to know, anyway. It’s nobody’s business but our own.”

That had calmed you down considerably. You were thankful he was so level-headed, thankful that he was so private in his dealings and personal life that you honestly didn’t have to worry. He wasn’t like so many others who would say one thing and do another; lead you on and then get with another girl. You had no worries that any of your friends or fellow wrestlers would ever know. You were able to keep your mouth shut. So was Tyson. “This is like Take This to Your Grave. You know, like the Fall Out Boy album?” you couldn’t help but quip.

Tyson snorted, rolling his eyes. “Hazel, were you even alive when that album came out?”

“HEY!” you jolted up, causing the beds to wiggle again. “I’ll have you know that was a seminal album in my life. “I was twelve and—”

“Oh my God, please stop talking right there,” he stressed. “Do not say another word.”

You smirked. “Did I just make you feel really o—”

“—Oh shit.”

You paused. “What?”

“—ohshitohshitohshit—”

“—What?!—”

“—Hold on!”

Tyson wrapped both his arms around you protectively, and before you knew it, you both had fallen through the beds. You yelped during the drop, but once you realized what had happened, you couldn’t stop laughing. Tears were falling from your eyes, rolling off of Tyson as he groaned from the impact – he took the brunt of it after all.

“Christ Almighty,” he grumbled through your hysterical laughs. He couldn’t keep the smile off his face. “That was worse than some bumps I’ve taken in the ring.”

“I can’t believe that just happened,” you managed to get out in a high-pitched voice between your hysterical laughter. “I don’t think I’ve ever laughed this hard in my life.”

“Yeah, funny for you because I saved you!”

You propped yourself up on your forearm. Your cheeks were red from laughing, wet from the tears. “Let me kiss you one last time to make it better.” Except you didn’t wait. You just lowered your face and planted your lips on his. You didn’t know what you meant the kiss to be, but it lasted longer than anticipated, only stopping when the alert from Tyson’s phone went off. Only then did you pull away. “That must be Nick or Matt texting about breakfast. We should clean ourselves up and go.”

Tyson didn’t say anything as he watched you rise from the floor, not bothering to wrap the top sheet or comforter around your naked body. He stayed on the floor in between the beds as he heard the shower turn on, closing his eyes.

***

28th May 2023

criticize the way you fly when you're soaring through the sky shoot you down and then they sigh and say, "she looks like she's been through it"

You always found Las Vegas to be way too hot. It was a decent enough city, and you’d had some fun there, but the heat was always something you could never get over. Double or Nothing meant that there were so many people and personalities at T-Mobile Arena. You hung out mostly in the women’s locker room. At least there, you knew you were safe.

“You haven’t run into him, have you?” Hikaru asked discreetly, chomping down on a baby carrot.

You shook your head. “Nah. But I’ve kinda just been laying low in here. I hope I’m not overstaying my welcome.”

“That’s impossible,” Hikaru said. “You can stay in here the whole night if you have to. I mean, he’s gotta talk to Tyson about what’s happening in a few weeks, right?”

“Yeah. Worst case scenario I walk in on them during that.”

“Well, if you do, you call me so I can whoop his ass for you. It’s been a long time coming for that punk ass bitch.”

You couldn’t help but snort at her words. She had obviously been informed well about the transgressions that had been committed and she was firmly Team Hazel. Not that it was ever any doubt – you and Hikaru had been great friends ever since your days in Japan. But the main different between you was that Hikaru would follow through – if she said she was going to whoop someone’s ass, she’d whoop someone’s ass. You’d mostly just cry about it in an abandoned washroom and in a hotel room afterwards. It was your specialty.

“You’ve always been my girl, Hikaru. What would I do without you?” you quipped with a smile.

Hikaru smirked. “Don’t even go there, girl. It all comes from here, by the way,” she said, pounding lightly on her chest where her heart was. “I got you, Hazel. You want me to grab you something from catering?”

You shook your head, standing up from your chair. “I shouldn’t be afraid to go get food,” you said. “You want more carrots?”

Your walk to catering was eventful, having a chat with Christopher Daniels along the way. Once you got there, you grabbed a plate of food, some Gatorade, and a Greek salad. You didn’t see Tony Schiavone creep up behind you, but he was a welcome partner to chat with as he picked up some dinner too. The two of you walked through the halls together, chatting like old friends as your food got cold. You didn’t really care, because every chat with Tony was so lively, and he expressed serious interest in appearing on Kick Out in the Kitchen. When you said goodbye as Tony disappeared into one of the guys’ locker rooms, Greg left the one across the way. The door was slow to close. You’d think for all the money Las Vegas had, doors would close properly in their arena.

“Right, and so many people shat on her even though it wasn’t her fault,” you heard an all-too-familiar voice from the locker room. “She got heat for it for months. She’d be crying every night because all the shitty girls didn’t want to wrestle her. And when she got to Japan, she already had a reputation. Took a lot of convincing to get her into promotions. Bea knew what she was doing in the ring but she got such a bad rap.”

“But you guys broke up a while ago, no?” said another voice.

“Mistakes happen in the ring all the time,” you heard one more voice.

“All the time,” the familiar voice said. Then a giggle. “It’d be much harder now to pick her up and drop her on her head, if you know what I mean.”

Everyone in the room, whoever they were, were giggling. Snickering, even, at his comment about your body. You froze in place, and by the time their conversation started up again, the door had finally closed, their voices gone.

Your body had inevitably gone through a change after you were forced to stop wrestling. You had been in such great shape – you had to be, for heaven’s sake – and had worked out often. But once you broke your neck and had to get the fusion surgery, most of it had to stop. It might put too much stress on your neck in ways you never thought possible, your doctor said. And truth be told, you were too scared to do anything too tenuous, because like the doctor told you, you should have suffocated to death in the ring and it was a miracle you were even walking in the first place. This meant that you had gained weight – about thirty pounds, when all was said and done. But because of your physique beforehand, it was noticeable. You didn’t look like a wrestler with muscles and abs anymore, but you still looked like, well, a normal woman with some meat on her bones. You weren’t unrecognizable. Nobody cared, nobody commented on it.

Except, apparently, Will Ospreay.

You don’t know what came over you, but you dropped everything but the Gatorade into the next trashcan you saw. You felt that if you ate anything, it would just come back up. That’s how much your stomach was in knots at his comment. And the laughs. God, you wished you had just barged in to see who was laughing at the comment, at your body. Nobody had any idea what you went through, and how bad you took the news that you could never wrestle again. It ate away at you for months, years even, and now these men were laughing about how your body had changed because of that life-altering event? Fuck them. And fuck Will Ospreay.

The same Will Ospreay that had endeared you when you were younger. The same Will Ospreay that you fancied, that kissed you and made out with you and strung you along for months, always saying no to firm commitment but always calling you late at night to hook up or have fun. The same Will Ospreay who told you that you could be clingy and overbearing despite not being clingy or overbearing. The same Will Ospreay that led you on, letting you believe you were the only one. The same Will Ospreay that sent you a simple text when you had broken your neck and never paid you a visit. The same Will Ospreay that began hooking up with Bea so soon afterwards that you were sure there was overlap. The same Will Ospreay that began to date her only a few weeks after your surgery, her smug smile on every uploaded picture only a reminder to you of what had happened in your personal and professional life. The same Will Ospreay that you fucking hated with everything in you.

You escaped into a washroom, again, and checked every stall to ensure it was empty, again. God, you felt like you were going to do this every show now. You didn’t cry this time. Instead, you began rubbing at your tattoo on the inside of your right wrist: a chef’s knife that you got in memory of you dad. You made sure to breathe in and out, in and out, in and out. Closing your eyes, you thought back to the first few months after your neck surgery. The first few weeks were hard. You had cried a lot, and you hated your neck brace. You remember finding out the news about Will and Bea and basically becoming a vegetable in your bed. The two weeks that Tyson came to stay with you made everything better, but there was one moment that stuck out, that you remembered so vividly.

Tyson had made lunch one day, some chicken thighs and vegetables and he plated some old pasta salad in your fridge. You were excited to eat, but when you tried gripping on to your fork and knife, you couldn’t. A common side effect after neck surgery, especially neck surgery like yours, but it hadn’t happened to you yet. You thought you were over that hurdle, that it would have happened right after your surgery. You tried again. You couldn’t. You tried just the fork, in your right hand, and you managed to keep it in your hand instead of having it fall on the table. But when you tried to fork a piece of pasta, you couldn’t at all, and your fork fell loudly into your plate. You started sobbing like a baby. Tyson rushed over to you – he had been preparing drinks – and asked what was wrong. You explained through tears and he could barely understand you. You had lost your appetite you were so distraught. But then Tyson – bless him – got you to calm down enough that you weren’t a sobbing mess. He picked up your fork, got a couple of vegetables on it, and held it up near your mouth to feed you.

“Tys…” you remember being on the verge of tears again. You felt like a fucking baby having somebody feed you.

“Eat, Hazel. I got you.”

You almost didn’t, because you were too proud. But when you saw the look on his face, and how he was looking at you, you opened your mouth and ate the food. You chewed it slowly, embarrassed that it had come to this. “I’m so sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“You’re feeding me like I’m a baby. This is embarrassing.”

Tyson shook his head. “This is not embarrassing at all,” he said before forking some chicken. “What would be embarrassing is if you made me do an airplane to get you to eat.”

He always knew how to get you to smile, even at your lowest point. You opened your mouth again to eat the chicken. “Hey Tyson?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you. I mean it.”

Tyson cut up and fed you your entire meal, even gripping your glass for you to drink, before eating himself. And a few days later, when it happened again, he did it all again without hesitation. That’s what Tyson had done for you. That’s what made you realize he would be in your life forever. And those men in that locker room were laughing.

***

Tyson always made decisions for the good of his company – the company that he helped create and build from the ground up. Whatever was good for the company was good for him. Whatever made his friends money and got fans in seats. That meant that despite his personal feelings towards Will Ospreay, he was working him again at Forbidden Door in Toronto. They had faced each other earlier in the year at Wrestle Kingdom, for the good of New Japan Pro Wrestling. Now he’d be facing him for the good of All Elite Wrestling. Tyson was able to keep his feelings quite personal, never letting anybody know what he really thought or felt.

Everybody except the two guys who could read him like a book.

Matt and Nick looked on as he spoke with Will about their match in Toronto. Tyson would be dropping the title – he knew that already – but they were going over spots, storyline, and emotion. Will focused on spots, but Tyson was focusing on emotion. What was the story? What story did Tyson want to tell?

“What do you think about a big spot, like—”

“Another big spot? Haven’t we got enough big spots?” Tyson quipped.

“Listen, I was thinking of a Tiger Driver—”

“—Oh fuck—” a female voice exclaimed.

Everybody’s heads turned to the doorway to see Hazel popping in her head. Tyson, Will, Matt, Nick, Austin, Chris Daniels – everyone looked at her. Tyson noticed her stare fixed on Will before looking at him. He knew that this was the one thing she didn’t want to happen. Running into Will. “Um, I’m sorry to interrupt—”

“—It’s okay sweetcheeks—” Matt offered.

“—I’m gonna, um, bring Hikaru back to the hotel when everything is over, so don’t worry. Bye.”

She shut the door abruptly. The men in the room stayed silent for a few moments before stealing quick glances at each other. Austin looked over at Tyson first, but wasn’t able to read the emotion on his face. Nick and Matt looked at Tyson too, but he was as stoic as a rock. Will had already shrugged his shoulders and discounted the experience. “Anyone else see how her eyes were watery?” Chris Daniels commented.

“Probably emotional because she knows we’re losing tonight,” Nick tried to cover quickly. He didn’t want to speculate in a room full of men why Hazel Fiore looked like she was tearing up. It was nobody’s business. Especially not with Will in the room.

“She’s always been emotional,” Will commented, as if he was an authority on the issue. Like he had the right to speak about her in any capacity. “It’s like, you kinda feel bad, but you also understand why, y’know? She’s got major daddy issues.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Tyson’s response was literally automatic upon hearing the words come out of Will’s mouth, his tone scathing and unlike anything any of the other men had ever heard before. Will looked at him, shocked, as if he hadn’t said anything wrong, even though Matt and Nick had also voiced their displeasure with words Tyson couldn’t hear through his anger and disgust. “Seriously, what’s your fucking problem?” he followed up on a dumbfounded Will.

“What?” he asked incredulously.

“Who the fuck says that about a girl who lost her dad at fifteen to cancer,” Tyson’s voice was still calm but full of disgust. “It’s so fucking insensitive. How could you even say that?”

“Ty, come on—”

“—Just fuck off, Will. Seriously, fuck off,” he stood up from his seat and waved Will off, shaking his head. “Get out of my fucking locker room. I swear to God. I know a lot of dumb fucks, Will, but you just might be the dumbest.”

“Ty—”

“You’re winning the belt in Toronto, so do however many spots you fuckin’ like. Maybe now at least one of your five star matches will be memorable because I’m in it. Now get out,” his tone was angrier and threatening.

Will left with a scowl on his face. All the men in the room watched Tyson as he paced back and forth. When he noticed Chris look at him, he stopped abruptly. “What?”

“Nothing. You did the right thing.”

***

“Please go away. You’re going to think I’m a big baby. That I’m still as lame as I was when you first met me,” you bemoaned, Tyson refusing to move from his heat on the edge of the bed. “I’m serious. Go to Wendy’s with the Bucks. Get me a Frosty. Be anywhere but here so you don’t have to see me like this.”

“Why? Because I haven’t seen you like this before?” he countered, making you fall silent. He had seen you like this many times before, but it was still unnerving, still a bit embarrassing to be a 31-year-old woman still emotional about something that happened seven years ago. And to be like this over a guy you had actively – and successfully – avoided seeing for those seven years? “C’mon, Haze. Give me a little bit of credit.”

You sighed, taking a deep breath as you looked him in the eye. “I don’t mean it like that,” your voice was small. “I don’t mean to make you mad—”

“—You’re not making me mad—”

“—I just don’t want my problems becoming your problems. You deal with enough shit already. You got bit by an adult human male, Tyson.”

The both of you couldn’t help but snort. The situation had to be lightened slightly. “Come on. Tell me.”

You sighed again. “Something happened earlier in the night, before I walked in on you guys in the locker room. I had gone to catering and was speaking with Tony and then when he went into his locker room, Greg was leaving the one across. And while the door was open, I just…you know, heard some stuff.”

Tyson furrowed his brows. “Stuff? What stuff?”

“I kinda just overheard him talking. I don’t know what his breakup with Bea was like, and I really don’t care, but uhhh, he was telling them some sob story about how much heat she got for what she did to me and how it affected their relationship, and he just made this comment, like, ‘It’d be much harder now to pick her up and drop her on her head, if you know what I mean’, and—”

Tyson didn’t even say anything, but you had to stop talking because he stood up at lightning speed and began making his way towards the door. “Tyson—”

“—Do not stop me.”

Tyson was fast, but you were faster. You slipped right by him and barricaded the door dramatically, like you were holding him hostage. You kind of feel like you had to now, based on what you’d just told him. “Nope. You’re not leaving this hotel room—”

“—Yes I fucking am—”

“—No, you’re not, because that’s not even the worst part.”

He stepped back. It was like he couldn’t comprehend what you’d just said. “What do you mean that’s not even the worst part?” his voice got high pitched.

“Go back to the bed—”

“—Hazel—”

“Go back to the bed, now, or else,” you threatened. You had nothing to threaten him with at all, but you were serious. You didn’t want drama, or commotion, or anything of the sort. Tyson had been through enough over the last year that you thought he should be done for the rest of his life. There was no reason for him to take this on as his own, to defend whatever honour you had left – if you had any at all.

You laid one of your hands on his forearm to calm him down. “It got worse because once he said it, I heard people laughing,” you explained. You felt him shift, his arm twitching in anger, but it was subtle. “And I know you’re going to ask who it was, but I don’t know. I didn’t go in there to see or to yell at them or whatever else. I just took my dinner and chucked it into the closest garbage can and just…” you trailed off. “You just…you can’t imagine how awful it feels to be a woman and have your colleagues, your supposed friends, whoever they were, laughing at a joke about your body. It’s soul-crushing. And I just…you know,” you shrugged, unable to find the words. “After everything I’ve been through, I still let this bullshit get to me.”

Tyson pulled you into him to hug you, wrapping his giant arms around you just like he used to during your first visit to Japan, just like he used to after big matches after his shower, just like he always did, really. Tyson gave the best hugs. When he engulfed you, it was like all your problems just washed away and you were cleansed. It was like you were back in the waters of Portofino holding on to him, not wanting to let go. “D’you remember when I stayed with you those two weeks after your neck surgery and I had to feed you?”

“Of course, Ty. I actually thought about it after I heard the laughing. I’d never forget that.”

“Just remember that,” he encouraged. “Just remember everything I’d do for you before you let anyone of those fuckers get in your head.”

You waited for Tyson to wash his face to put on your pyjamas before the both of you got into bed. You wondered if he’d get close at all, possibly even touch you, but the second you were both laying down, your question was answered. His body moved towards yours like a fight-or-flight response, one of his arm draping over your body. He curled up right against your back, like the big spoon, your body nestling perfectly into his. Memories flooded his mind. Memories of the G1 Climax Tournament he won.

In the quietness of the room, with the low hum of the air conditioner the only noise, Tyson placed a kiss on your shoulder. He didn’t say anything, but he knew you felt it.

For him, it was getting harder and harder to control.

***

TOKYO 2016

i said remember this moment in the back of my mind the time we stood with our shaking hands, the crowds in stands went wild

You know you will remember the moment vividly as you watch it happen. You will remember the finished move and how Tyson pinned his opponent. You will remember the bell ringing after the referee’s hand hit the mat three times. You will remember the roar of the crowd and the excitement in everybody’s eyes to see the first ever gaijin win the G1 Climax. You will remember how gruelling of a month it was for Tyson, how emotionally draining it had been. You will remember it all culminating in this moment. Of him winning. Of him making history.

You weren’t able to see him right away. There were in-ring celebrations and post-match press conferences to be had, and various people from New Japan saw him first. You had to be on standby, and you could have chewed your nails off waiting. Even when the suits finished, the handler from New Japan made you wait an additional ten minutes just to see him.

You knocked lightly on his door before peeping your head in. He was sitting on a giant production case, the tournament trophy beside him. His legs were dangling off the edge, not touching the floor. Not many things could make him look small. He looked your way and when he saw you, the most tired of smiles appeared on his face.

“Can I come in?”

“Of course,” he nodded quickly, and you slipped in before shutting the door behind you. “What did you think?”

“I think you’re incredible,” you said, approaching him and standing in front of him. Your eyes scanned over the trophy briefly before you focused your attention back on him. “Has it sunk in yet for you? That you just made history?”

He took a few breaths, shaking his head slightly. “No. I guess I did, didn’t I? First gaijin to win the G1. I can say that now.”

“Doesn’t it feel amazing?” you asked.

“I’m so tired and drained that I don’t know what amazing feels like right now,” he said, causing you both to laugh slightly. “I think tomorrow morning as I’m eating breakfast it’s gonna hit me like a ton of bricks.”

You couldn’t help but smile, stepping closer to him so you were standing between his spread legs. You don’t know what came over you, but seeing him the way he was – in his gear, beside the giant G1 Climax trophy, still trying to catch his breath, the weight of what just happened and what it meant looming over the both of you…you really don’t know what came over you.

You kissed him. You held his big, sweaty head in your hands and you kissed him. Only a couple of seconds after it began, you realized what you were doing and you pulled away. “Shitsorry—sorry—” you began mumbling and apologizing quickly.

“—It’s okay—”

“I’m sorry—I’m sorry Tys—”

“—Hazel, it’s alright. It’s okay.”

You put your fingers over your lips, as if that would stop it from happening again. A physical barrier is what you needed, apparently. Not a mental one. You looked in each other’s eyes before one of his characteristic close-lipped smiles spread across his face. “I’m very happy you’re here,” he whispered. “I really—I really like you being here.”

“I think you’re just saying that because I act like an idiot and provide you entertainment,” you said, trying to make light of what just happened.

“I don’t think you’re an idiot at all,” he shook his head only slightly, not able to do much else with his body after what had just transpired in the ring. “Please stop thinking that.”

“I bet you do secretly.”

“No,” he was firmer in his tone this time. “I know a lot of dumb people, and you’re not one of them.”

Before you could say anything else, there was another knock at the door. You stepped away from being so close to Tyson. He looked extremely annoyed. A man began speaking in Japanese from the other side of the door, and Tyson answered back while rolling his eyes. The door closed before you even understood what was going on. “Sorry.”

“What was that about?”

“Driver wanted to know how much longer. I told him fifteen minutes so I could shower.”

“It’s okay,” you said, nodding your head once. “Go shower. We—I’ll meet you in the car. I know you’re tired, so we’ll celebrate tomorrow.”

The driver drove you both to a local hotel near Ryogoku Kokugikan, the company deciding to put everybody up in the hotel since they wanted to film a press conference tomorrow afternoon. You checked into your respective rooms, which were only down the hall from each other. But as you were getting ready for bed, your phone buzzed on your bathroom vanity.

Neck hurts like a motherfucker.

Colour me shocked, Ty. Are you okay?Do you want me to drop by? I have some Rub A535.

What are you, my dad?

You rolled your eyes at his response. He was the geriatric one.

Has neck pain, still acts like a pain in the ass.

You threw on a robe and made sure to grab your key card before making your way over to his room. You knocked quietly and he opened not long after. You let yourself in. “Seriously, Rub A535? You’re an old man.”

“I bet it’s like looking into a mirror then, eh?” you countered.

Tyson’s jaw dropped. “You jezebel!”

You both broke out into laughter, making your way further into his room. You threw your robe onto the extra bed. He was wearing an old, stupid pair of shorts to sleep in. “Sit,” you said as you got on his bed. “Show me where it’s hurting. I can try to massage it.”

“Are you licensed? Can I claim you on my insurance?”

You gave him a look. “Do you want my help or not!”

He giggled, sitting himself on the edge of the bed. “Right up over here,” he showed you with his hand, “and over here. Just be careful though, okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” both of your voices were calm at this point. There was no room for joking around. “You have to tell me if I’m hurting you,” you warned, with Tyson nodding his head.

You began massaging the first place he showed you, and almost the second you applied pressure, Tyson groaned. He encouraged you to keep going, that it felt good. “You know, this wouldn’t be happening to you if you didn’t keep landing on your neck all the time,” you whispered.

“What fun would that be?” he asked. You shook your head.

Your continued massaging, being as careful as you could, moving on to the other areas that he pointed out to you. You could hear his little satisfied exhales, the little groans he let out when you hit a spot well. You switched back and forth between the spots for a while, Tyson appreciating every minute. You didn’t know if he could feel how close you got once you really got into it, or if he could feel your breath on his neck. But you were happy you were making him feel better, happy you were with him and his beautiful soul on the biggest night of his career thus far.

“Ah shit,” you almost didn’t hear him swear under his breath.

You pulled your hands back towards your chest. “Fuck, did I hurt you?”

“No no, it’s okay, keep going,” he urged.

“Tys—”

“It wasn’t you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

You stayed silent, exhaling slightly before continuing to massage over near his shoulder as you had been, being a little more careful. You would never be able to forgive yourself if you had hurt him somehow. He winced at some points and groaned in others, like he had been when you focused on his neck, but you could still tell something was up. When you looked over his shoulder, you could see him trying discreetly to adjust his shorts, pulling some of the fabric forward as if he was trying to hide or cover something.

And then it hit you like a ton of bricks.

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you kept massaging, garnering another groan from him. You took your time getting closer and closer to him until you were positive he could feel your breath on his skin. “Don’t worry about it, Ty,” you whispered in his ear in a knowing tone. “It’s okay.”

He shook his head slightly. You were positive the redness you saw in his cheeks wasn’t from the increased blood flow to his neck and shoulders. “No it’s not. It’s embarrassing. This is, like, what happens with pervs.”

“It’s not embarrassing. It happens. Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to apologize about,” you assured him. By this point, you had stopped paying attention to your massaging and had no idea if what you were doing even helped. You were too busy looking over his shoulder, trying to see through his shorts. You inhaled quietly. “D’you want me to take care of it?”

Tyson shook his head, still embarrassed. “No no no. Gosh Hazel, you don’t have to do that.”

“I’ll do it, Ty. I don’t mi—”

“—Hazel…” there was a hesitation in his voice.

There was a pause as your back and forth hung in the air. “Is it cause you don’t want me to?”

He shook his head. “That’s not it.”

“Then what is it?” you asked, bringing your lips down to kiss his shoulder.

He stayed silent. He was almost ashamed because he couldn’t say anything out loud. How could he? He knew what he wanted to say, he just couldn’t say it. He couldn’t let you know; it had to stay inside him. For his good. For your good. He felt you kiss his shoulder again and he inhaled. “Hazel…”

“Remember Portofino?”

He couldn’t help the small smile that spread on his lips. “Of course.”

You kissed your way from his shoulder to where it met his neck. “Do you really not want to? Cause I’ll stop,” you whispered in his ear.

Tyson shook his head. He could do many things, but he couldn’t deny this right now. “I just…I can barely move.”

“You don’t have to,” you assured him. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Haze…”

“Shhhh…” you cooed, kissing his neck. “Lie down.”

“Haze—you don’t—I don’t want you to think you have to do that.”

“I want to, Tyson. I feel safest with you.”

He didn’t lie down just yet. Instead, he pulled you on to his lap and began kissing you. You straddled him as you kissed him back, feeling his hands go to your thighs and travel around to your ass, squeezing the flesh there. You could barely let go of him as his tongue entered your mouth. Your hands wandered between his toned body and his hair, gripping it at the nape of his neck. He was so much bigger now, so much bigger than you remember him being. You didn’t know how long you just sat there making out for, but your lips felt swollen when you stopped, even if it just was momentarily. “Ty?” you breathed out, feeling his length between your legs.

“Hmm?”

“Do you want to be inside me or in my mouth?”

“Shit Hazel,” he swore underneath his breath. The way you worded the question almost made him come right then and there. “In—inside you.”

You gave him a quick kiss. “Lie down.”

He listened this time, and you both moved to better positions on the bed, him lying down like you demanded. You helped him out of his shorts, freeing his hard cock. You took off your own pyjama bottoms, but Tyson raised his arms so he could slide your panties down your legs. You kissed a trail down his chest before straddling him again. You reached down between you and positioned his cock so he could enter you, and you lowered on to him slowly, having to adjust to his size. “Fuck Ty,” you couldn’t help but breath out along the way. When you bottomed out, a shiver ran up your spine.

“Jesus, Hazel,” he breathed out. “Fuck, that feels so good.”

You knew he could barely move, and you knew you’d be the one putting in most of the work here, so you took a few more moments to adjust before you began rolling your hips back and forth slowly. Tyson watched and his eyes rolled to the back of his head at the visual.

You took your time getting into a rhythm, wanting this to last as long as it could. The last time, in Portofino, your body had been buzzed from being out in the sun all day. This time around, the both of you were exhausted, but that didn’t mean there was any less energy between you two, or any less love. You would do anything for Tyson, and Tyson would do anything for you. So you were taking it gently, and you were taking it slowly, but you knew it would feel just as good as Portofino did two years ago, just as perfect as it did then too, despite nothing happening since.

Tyson’s hands were placed firmly on your thighs at first, before they moved to your hips and followed your movements loosely. You placed your hands over his, intertwining your fingers slightly. “Y’okay, Ty?”

“You feel fucking incredible,” he whispered.

“You want me to take my top off?”

“Yes please.”

You giggled at his request of please. So polite. You could take the boy out of Canada, but you couldn’t take Canada out of the boy. You led his hands from your hips all the way up your body, dragging your shirt long with it, before he pulled it off entirely and tossed it to the side. Your breasts were exposed then, and all it took was the sight of them to give Tyson a burst of energy, moving to sit up. One arm wrapped around your waist to hold you down on his cock as he attacked your lips with his. He cupped your breast, which overflowed even in his big hands. You moaned into his kisses, gripping the hair at the nape of his neck again. Your fingernails dug into the skin of his shoulder blades where you had been massaging earlier. “Ty…” you whispered out as he moved from your lips to your neck. “Ty, lie down. I got you. I told you I’d take care of you.”

“You’re so beautiful, Hazel.”

A shiver ran up your spine hearing those words. You pushed him back down before placing your hands on his chest for leverage as you began to roll your hips again. Your breathing got heavier; so did his. You savoured every moment of being on top of him, having his amazing body underneath you as you worked to pleasure the both of you. You were completely drunk on him, willing that this exact feeling could last forever.

Tyson had gotten more vocal the longer you two went on. Between the sight of you on top of him and the feeling of him inside you, he was close. It didn’t help that he’d gotten a head start during the massage. “You’re gonna make me come.”

You were desperate – you could admit that. You didn’t want it to end. He felt too good inside of you. You felt too connected to him to have it be over, regardless of how long you’d been riding him. You couldn’t even keep track or have any idea because you were so wrapped up in the feeling of him. “No,” you shook your head, biting your bottom lip. “No, not yet.”

Tyson couldn’t believe what he’d heard. “What?”

“Not yet,” you repeated more emphatically. “Want more. Need more.”

A shiver ran up his spine hearing those words. It took everything in him not to come then and there. Instead, he began to move his hips along with yours, and you could automatically feel the difference. Your moaning got louder. Tyson almost couldn’t take it. “You’re getting so deep, Ty.”

“Keep going, baby.”

You clenched when the words left his mouth. Your hips kept rolling, your clit rubbing against his body as his cock was hitting you so deep and at the perfect angle. After a while longer, you found yourself getting closer, as you were sure he was hitting your G-spot. “Ty…oh fuck Ty—I—I—”

You couldn’t say anything else as the most intense orgasm you’d ever felt washed over your entire body. Your entire body shook with pleasure – you could even feel it in your fucking toes. You had never felt anything like it before and oh my God, was it glorious. You swore you could see stars as you clenched around him, repeating his name over and over like a prayer. At some point, it was all too much for you, and you felt yourself collapsing on to him. Your breasts were between your bodies, pressing against him as he held you down with his arms. As he pumped in and out of you, you could feel his release too, his groans and how you felt full from him.

You felt empty when he slipped out of you, but you kissed him to make up for it, kiss after kiss after kiss. Were you being sappy? Both times this had ended up happening, it was truly spur of the moment. But during both times, there had been so much pent up energy between you that it could only culminate in something like this. And during both times, you didn’t want them to end. You knew you’d remember every detail.

In between kisses, you couldn’t help yourself. “Love you, Ty.”

“Love you too, Hazel,” he responded right after. It was only then that you heard the true fatigue in his voice.

He didn’t let go of you as you rolled off him and onto his side. You were both on your sides now, and he pulled you up against his chest. All of his muscles, tired and overused as they were, pressed into your back as he tucked his head against your shoulder. Before the fatigue finally consumed him, he placed a kiss on your shoulder; you brought his hand up and kissed it too, finally drifting off to sleep.

The next morning, Tyson could barely move. He’d need help getting out of bed. But that was typical. What really mattered wasn’t his pain or how stiff some of his joints were. What really mattered was that he was still in bed, with you, looking into your eyes. One of your hands was playing with his hair. One of his hands was drawing circles along the skin on your arm. You were both quiet. You were both in the moment, since you didn’t have to be anywhere else for a while.

“You’re career’s about to take off in ways we never would have thought,” you barely whispered. You wondered if the weight of what he had accomplished last night had finally hit him. “Are you gonna remember little ol’ me when you’re rich and famous?”

The smallest of smiles cracked on his lips. “Duh. You’re unforgettable.”

“A lot of things are gonna change you, and I want you to know that I think you deserve all the good things coming to you. Whatever they are,” you continued. “You know that, right?”

“I do,” he said. “But it’s not all about me. You’re going to do some pretty big things too. Stardom’s gonna shoot you to the moon because you deserve it. And what’s happening in California when you go back?”

“I’ve got a match with Candice, and a match with Bea Priestley again. Let’s hope I don’t walk out with another broken sternum.”

“You’re gonna knock both out of the park, because you always do. Then everybody’s gonna be clamouring for you. There’s going to be bidding wars over you,” he assured you. “You’re just as good as I am. If not better.”

“Oh stop,” you said, blushing and embarrassed at his words. You buried your face into the pillow so you didn’t have to look at him. You could feel him move, sticking his face into the crook of your neck as he kissed along it.

“I mean it, Haze,” he mumbled against your temple between kisses.

When you raised your head back up, he peppered your face with light pecks before giving you quick kisses on your lips. When you stopped kissing, you took in the silence between you. “Hey Tys…”

“Hmm?”

Your hand moved to caress his face along his beard. “I wasn’t—I didn’t just, like, blurt out the words last night and didn’t mean them,” you stuttered out. “I do love you. In my own way.”

“I know,” he said. “I meant what I said last night too. That I’m very happy you’re here. That I like you being here with me. And that I love you.”

“But you don’t…even after what happened in Portofino, we can’t do much more than this, can we?” you asked. Secret little love affairs. One-off passionate nights after emotionally charged moments that brought you closer together, closer than you ever thought you’d ever get with your mentor, your best friend, your person.

His heart broke. Again, he was ashamed because he couldn’t say anything out loud. He couldn’t let you know; it had to stay inside him. For his good and for your good. “It’s not the right time,” he said instead.

Your heart didn’t break. It had no reason to. He was right, but you didn’t want to admit it. “Not—not that anything would change but if—if—do you think it ever will be the right time in the future?”

He felt his stomach in knots. He answered with the only answer he could give.

“I don’t know.”

A few weeks later, when Matt and Nick were back in Japan, they would watch intently as Tyson was glued to his phone. They’d give each other a look that Tyson wouldn’t see, and then they’d go about their business, eating their ice cream or searching for directions to a coffee shop. But one night, after they walked into Tyson’s hotel room at the tail end of an hour-long phone call, Nick made the executive decision.

“Sorry. It was Hazel,” Tyson said once he hung up.

“Figured as much. You don’t talk to anyone else on the phone that long but us and her,” Nick smirked.

Tyson shrugged. “Yeah, well…”

“She doing okay?”

“She’s fine.”

“How was it when she was over here?” Matt piped in.

Tyson was avoiding eye contact. “It was nice,” he kept his answers simple. “Nice that I had someone here with me for winning the G1, you know.” Despite being some of his best friends, they didn’t know what had happened in Italy, and they weren’t going to know about what happened after the G1.

“Mmmhhhmmm,” Nick nodded. “Must’ve been.”

“Are you gonna tell her how you feel?” Matt asked, getting straight to the point. “She’s gottta know, Ty.”

Tyson shook his head. Those observant little fuckers. “No.”

Nick grimaced. “Why not?”

Tyson took a deep breath, sighing afterwards. “It’s just easier if she doesn’t. Even if it rips me apart.”

***

25th June 2023

you say, "i don't understand," and i say, "i know you don't" we thought a cure would come through in time, now, i fear it won't

You watched with tears in your eyes as the trainer attended to Tyson after his match with Will, going through concussion protocol and range of motion exercises to ensure everything was okay and that nothing was broken. Tyson sat their quietly, complying with everything, moving his shoulders and legs, blinking once and then twice, maintaining focus then following a light, stretching his neck back and forth and side to side. That was the most important exercise of all, after what had happened in the ring. After he didn’t tell you one of the most important spots in the match.

“Everything looks completely fine, Mr. Smith,” the head trainer said, finally, much to everybody’s relief. Everybody except you.

“God Ty, that Tiger Driver looked brutal,” Nick said. “Helluva spot, but brutal nonetheless.” Of course he would say that.

“I thought it looked incredible,” Matt pitched in. “If anybody could have done it and taken it correctly, it was you.” Of course he would say that.

“That’ll grab the headlines,” Christopher Daniels said. Of course he would say that.

“Leave the really big spots for a Canada, huh?” Stephen joked. Of course he would say that.

It was then that Tyson locked eyes with you – you, staying completely silent across the way of the room, though you knew by now your face was probably beet red with emotion. You had so much emotion stored inside of you, from the beginning of the match until now, and you didn’t know when it was going to burst. Forty minutes of your heart being in the pit of your stomach.

Tyson finally noticed.

“Can everyone just…” he began, sighing and trailing off before recollecting his thoughts. “Just give me a couple of minutes – alone, please,” he ordered, albeit politely. Everybody stood silent, awkwardly. “Now guys. Come on. Everyone out.”

You didn’t move, but everyone else did. When they were all out, and you were all alone with Tyson, that’s when all the emotion stored inside of you came out. One of your tsunamis. Now. Of all times it could happen.

“What’s the matter? What’s wrong?” he asked gently.

His tone meant that the first few tears escaped. You shook your head vehemently. “No—no—no—”

“—Hazel—”

“—No—”

“Hazel, c’mere…c’mere,” he cooed. Even reluctantly, you went over to him, sitting across from him on the medical table. He grabbed your hands in his. You weren’t expecting that, but you were shaking, and he probably wanted to stop that. “What’s the matter?”

“Your neck, your neck,” you kept repeating through your tears.

“My neck is fine—”

“How many times do I have to tell you to stop doing this fucking shit, Tyson?” you demanded, tears fully streaming down your face now. “Do you think I like seeing your body torn up by a cage? That I like seeing you be dropped on your fucking head? And by him?”

“Haze, I’m sor—”

“Sorry’s not gonna cut it this time!” you exclaimed, pulling your hands away from his. You wiped the tears from your eyes. “You’re Kenny fucking Omega. Your worst match is still ninety five percent better than everybody else’s best matches yet you still think you have to do this—this—this absolutely insane shit. For what? What’s it all for, Tyson? You’re already the best in the world. You’re already a legend.”

“I’m perfecting my craft, Hazel. You know that. We talk about it all the time. This is everything to me. I left my family, my friends – I moved to a foreign country and was fucking alone for years so I could be at the top. Every sacrifice I’ve made has been in the name of pro-wrestling because there can’t be a question about whether or not I’m the best. That’s it, Hazel. That’s it.”

You absorbed his words, each one of them hitting you like a dagger. You sat there silently, looking deep into his eyes. “Is that really all that matters to you? Is that it?”

You could see the look in his eyes. You could see the change in his face. He wanted to say something. He was so close to saying something. He was going to say something. But you couldn’t hear how he would respond to your question – at least not right now. The door handle being jerked loudly from the outside interrupted your conversation, and when you both looked the way of the door, you saw one person walking through it.

Will fucking Ospreay.

Okay, now you were livid.

“Don’t you know how to fucking knock?” you demanded, not caring how rude you sounded. You stood up from where you were sitting across from Tyson.

Will’s face scrunched up. “Who pissed in your cereal?”

“YOU!” you screamed. “You, you fucking idiot!”

“What the hell is wrong with you? I came in to see Tyson, not you—”

“Well you’re going to see me anyway!”

“Will you calm down—”

“—Do not tell me to calm down,” you warned. “What is it? Huh? You want to do the same thing to his neck that your ex-girlfriend did to mine?” Will’s brows furrowed with that rhetorical question. You didn’t even bother to wait for him to retort. You just kept going. “You know what, actually? This is a perfect opportunity. Finally you can see it in the flesh,” you turned around, gathered your hair in your hand, and lifted it up. Your scar was on full display for Will, who diverted his eyes the second he saw it. “Four screws, one rod, and sixteen staples fixed your girlfriend’s mistake. I should have suffocated and died in that ring and you didn’t even have the decency to check in on me. And you want to know why I’m so upset?”

Will clenched his jaw. “Listen, I’m sorry that happened, but—”

“You’re not sorry it happened,” you interrupted him. “You want me to believe you’re sorry when you were joking with your friends in the locker room in Vegas about how it would be much harder now to pick me up and drop me on my head?”

It was the first time during your spat that you saw Will’s face drop – that he looked legitimately taken aback, almost even frightened, by what you said. You had been stepping closer to him with every word, and had backed him up against the wall at this point. “It must be so empowering to be a man…that you can just exist and be you whereas a woman has to apologize for her existence,” you said. “If I ever hear that you’ve talked about me or my body again, I will kill you with my bare hands. I fucking hate your guts.”

“I can feel it,” was all he could reply with.

You took one final step closer, looking at him with all the venom in the world in your eyes. “You can hurt me, Will, and you already have, but if you hurt any one of my friends, it’s over for you, and I mean that entirely. I will fucking end you. That’s a promise.”

He stayed silent then, looking down at you, because there was nothing for him to say. You felt like kneeing him in the groin, but that would have been too much pleasure for one night after what you’d just said to him. It would have been an indulgence. As the words hung in the air, you backed up slightly before walking out of the room. Only then had you noticed the door had been held open by Matt, who was watching you intently as you made your exit.

***

Just knocked on your room door and you didn’t answer. Are you in the shower or something?

I went to the airport early Catching a red eye to Winnipeg

Hazel

Gonna spend some extra time with my mom

I need to talk to you

I know. I’m sorry I blew up at Will in your room. That wasn’t very nice of me and it put you in an awkward position of having to hear me yell seven years of pent up shit at him.

I couldn’t care less about that He deserved it

Am I still allowed to come to the cottage?

Obviously Hazel What makes you think you wouldn’t?

I don’t know The way I spoke to you

***

30th June 2023

all of this silence and patience, pining and anticipation my hands are shaking from holding back from you

You bought Timbits. It was the quintessential Canadian road trip item, and you couldn’t show up empty-handed, even though the drive to the cottage was only just over an hour. With your suitcase loaded in the trunk, you hauled the bag of groceries into the backseat. Tyson always insisted he had food, but protein bars and chocolate milk didn’t count. When you slipped into the front seat, you held them up near your face.

“You wanna make me fat?” he asked as he shut the door behind them. “Seriously, woman. I have a strict diet to maintain this body.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, right. I forgot about that. Your diet of energy drinks and Dave’s Doubles and junior cheeseburger deluxes is sooooo healthy.”

“You know it,” he winked. “What’s with all the food, by the way?”

“You never have food.”

“I have food!”

“I also may have watched The Bear with my mom.”

Tyson giggled. He put the gear in drive and signalled. “Yeah. That’ll do it. What’re you gonna make?”

“Scallopini al funghi,” you said, eyeing him. He stayed silent. “You know, like a chicken marsala.”

“Oh, you mean like from the Cheesecake Factory?”

You chopped him across the chest. As always he was overdramatic in his response, though he knew exactly what he was doing when he brought up the Cheesecake Factory. “You take that back right now, Tyson.”

“Man, you still got it,” he rubbed at his chest where you chopped him. “You been practicing without me or something?”

“Apologize!”

The smirk hadn’t left his face. “I’m sorry I brought up the Cheesecake Factory when you mentioned making a fancy shmancy Italian dish,” irony dripped with every word that came out of his mouth.

“Thank you,” you smiled just as ironically. “How was the rest of the time in Toronto?”

He shrugged. “Just the usual. Lots of media. Nothing out of the ordinary. I was able to go to a few places and get some gaming stuff, which was nice.”

You almost didn’t want to ask, but there was something in your chest that was making you. “How’s your neck?”

“Neck’s fine,” he said, looking over at you quickly. “And I’m not just saying that, okay?”

You nodded in understanding. “I’m excited for this, you know,” you tried to lighten the mood back to where it was. You didn’t want to talk about what had happened just yet. It was the first time seeing Tyson in almost five days and you wanted to see him smile. “I can’t wait to do a 630 splash off the dock. The water will be warm, right?”

“We’ll see,” he said. “I’m excited, too. I’ve been waiting for this for a long time.”

***

Groceries were put away. Scallopini were made. Dishes were put in the dishwasher.

And then…

“BAH GAWD ALMIGHTY!” you could hear Tyson scream in a bang-on Jim Ross impression before you hit the water. The cold temperature hit your skin like icicles, but you knew it would be only momentary. You swam a bit underwater before you emerged back up, hearing Tyson finishing his yelling. “Somebody stop the damn match! That man has a family!”

You watched as he got a running start and completed a flawless tope con hilo from the edge of his dock right into the water. You began to backstroke so you could get further into the lake as you watched him come up for air. “Show off!” you yelled at him, a smile on your face.

He smiled and shook his head. He began swimming over to you. “I do that all the time!” he called out after you. When he caught up to you, easily, he could see the playful scowl on your face.

“Now you’re just bragging,” you said. You turned away from him and looked out onto the lake. Streaks covered the sky, the sunset starting showing its beauty over the lake. Whenever you came here with Tyson – not that it was often, but whenever it did happen – you always managed to get a beautiful sunset. You didn’t know if it was the time of year, or the weather, or some other force of nature you had no power over. Regardless, you were very lucky. You could feel him behind you. “You get the best sunsets out here,” you commented, your voice no longer yelling.

“I know,” he said.

You were both quiet for quite a while, just letting the sound of the waves take precedent. The lake wasn’t particularly lively – at least not at this time of day – but there were some boats still driving around the lake, some families down the coast clearly having their own Canada Day weekend celebrations. You treaded water easily to stay afloat, but the cold water wasn’t getting any warmer. You plugged your nose and dunked your head into the water to see if it would help, but when you came back up, it hadn’t. “Think the water will be warmer tomorrow?”

“Just dunk your head a few more times,” Tyson suggested playfully. You chuckled, but what you weren’t expecting was to feel his giant hand atop your head. “Tyson!” you screamed, because you knew exactly what he was going to do.

It didn’t stop him. He pushed you down and dunked you into the water. He let you come back up quickly, but by the time you caught your breath, he pushed you back down again. It was like he was baptizing you, for heaven’s sake. Under the water, you kicked and punched at him. If you were being honest, you were aiming for his dick, but when you were above water once more catching your breath, he wasn’t grovelling in pain, so it meant you missed.

“You asshole!” you half-yelled, half-giggled. “You are seriously the worst, Tyson Smith.”

“Wow, using my full name?”

“You deserve it.”

“Nobody ever deserves that. You were the one trying to hit me.”

“I was trying to punch your dick.”

“You were what?!” his voice raised three octaves. “Hazel Ila—”

“—do not say my middle name—”

“—Ilaaarrrrria,” Tyson put on an extremely strong and dramatic Italian accent.

Big mistake. You splashed a ton of water into his face, discombobulating him. You couldn’t help but laugh as you kept splashing him, getting closer to him with each one. When you were close enough, and with whatever vision he had left with tons of lake water flooding his eyes, he reached out and grabbed your arm to stop you. He pulled you into his body, holding you against him. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders.

“You really are a jezebel, eh?” he said, using one hand to wipe the water off his eyes.

“I always knew you stealing my passport in Japan would come back to haunt me one day,” you said.

“You’re lucky I’ve never told anyone. Do you have any idea how long and hard Austin has begged?”

You both giggled. Then silence. You were close.

Tyson kissed you. He leaned his head forward and in one swift movement he kissed you. You kissed him back for as long as you could. It had been seven years. Tyson kissed you for as long as he could before he realized what he was doing and pulled away, turning his head to the side. “Fucksorry—sorry—” he began mumbling and apologizing quickly.

“—It’s okay—”

“I’m sorry—I’m sorry Haz—”

“—Tys, it’s alright. It’s okay.”

Your hands were cradling his face by this point, and despite his tone and his apologies you continued to look deep into each other’s eyes. You wondered what was next. You always wondered what was next with Tyson. You could feel lightning running through you, running deep in your damn bones. And when you were sure Tyson would lean in again, a scream across the lake broke the moment. You both whipped your heads to see a boat pass by, teenagers hanging on to a tube with every inch of their life responsible for the screaming. The both of you watched as it sped across the lake, taking your moment with it.

“You’re shivering,” Tyson finally said, filling the silence.

Considering your body was pressed up to his, you weren’t surprised he felt something. But considering what had just happened, you hadn’t even noticed yourself. “Guess I’m not used to the water just yet.”

“Let’s go inside.”

“No no, if you want to stay out we can stay out.”

“No way,” he shook his head. “I’m not gonna make you stay out here shivering. We’ll come back out tomorrow when the sun’s out.”

You made your way inside. Tyson gave you space to change into comfortable clothes, and you went into the master bathroom to do something with your hair. It would inevitably develop a curl, so you decided to brush through it and try to calm your bangs as much as possible before tying it back into a French braid. The electricity that was in your body hadn’t left, and the moment between you and Tyson in the lake kept playing in your mind. His blue eyes. His stupid little giggle. His voice raising three octaves. You tried breathing in and out, tried thinking of something else, but nothing could get rid of the electricity or the thoughts.

When you made your way back out, Tyson was already in the kitchen putting a bag of popcorn into the microwave. When he saw you, he couldn’t help but smile.

You noticed right away. You thought you looked like a witch. “What?” you asked him. “Gosh, I bet my hair looks awful after the lake water,” you grimaced, playing with your bangs and pulling them down to frame your face at least somewhat.

“Nah,” Tyson said softly. “You look beautiful.”

The electricity that never left had just been amped up to a higher voltage. It was the electricity that made you act; the second you were close to him in the kitchen, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and kissed him, a reciprocal from what happened in the lake. He immediately kissed back, his arms wrapping around your waist. His hands went to your ass and he lifted you in his arms and set you down on the countertop, getting in between your legs. But when you tried slipping your tongue in his mouth, he pulled away. As if he were ashamed. “Shitshitshit…” he muttered.

“Ty—”

“—I can’t do this.”

Your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach. “Why not?”

He was breathing heavily. He shook his head. “I can’t—I promised myself I couldn’t do anything until we talked about what happened in Toronto, and I’ve already broken that promise.”

Your sanity somewhat recovered. “Can I ask you something first?”

“What’s that?”

“Why don’t you tell me what’s gonna happen in the ring anymore?”

Tyson paused. He knew he’d have to answer for that one day, and it was apparently going to be now. He knew they wouldn’t be able to have this conversation without his answer. “I see how worked up you get, and how much it affects you and gets you worried. I don’t want to put you in that position to, you know, worry about me.”

He was such an idiot. Literally the dumbest boy alive. You brought your hands up, your thumbs rubbing over the stubble of his beard. “You’d think by now you’d realize it’s been having the opposite effect,” you said. “When I told you that it’s getting harder and harder for me to watch your more hardcore stuff I meant it. Leaving me in the dark is just doing more harm. I’d rather know about it. I’d rather be prepared. It would make me less nervous for what’s coming.”

“But I can’t stand to see you cry,” he whispered. “Every time I do I know it’s because of me and I can’t handle it.”

“Please, Ty. Just tell me,” you said, pausing afterwards. “What are you gonna do at Blood and Guts?”

Fuck. You could see Tyson visibly grimace, his eyes fluttering closed. “There’s gonna be thumbtacks,” he began. Your stomach was already in knots. “And uh, there’s this thing…it’s a nail bed—”

“—a nail bed?!—”

“—and I’m going to take a body slam on to it.”

Your tears began almost instantaneously. “Tyson—”

“—I know, I know—”

“Tyson,” you buried your head into the crook of his neck, resting it on his shoulder. “Tyson, please,” you were desperate, desperate for him to listen to you.

“Hazel, Hazel, don’t cry,” he cooed, rubbing your back. “It’s gonna be okay. Look at me, look at me,” he gently pulled away before placing a finger underneath your chin so you could look at him. “You’re breaking my heart by making me see you cry.”

“I hope I am!” you said with more emphasis than normal. “I get that you want to be the master of your craft but this isn’t it. Say you’re injured. Say you can’t do it. Please. I don’t want to see you ripped to shreds.”

“Hazel,” you could hear the heaviness in his voice, “you know as well as I do I can’t be the only guy not taking a spot during the match.”

You knew that, but your judgement was clouded right now. If you had your way, none of the guys would be taking any spots on any damn nail bed, but it wasn’t like you could control these things. You wished you could. You knew you would have to suffer through it and there was nothing you could do about it. You knew it would result in waiting for him to return to gorilla afterwards and having to see him aching. You knew you’d be in the locker room with him as he got patched up, holding everything in (or, maybe this time, you’d let everything out, in front of everyone).

You sighed, feeling Tyson wipe away the tears that had fallen from your eyes with the pads of his thumbs. “You’re so adamant about this. Why?” he asked.

“Because I’m selfish, Tyson. I want you around for a very long time. I’m selfish and I want you with me for a very long time.”

You finally verbalized, praying to God that it would finally get through to him as to why you were the way you were. He looked into your eyes for any hint of uncertainty or ambiguity, but there wasn’t any. “Hazel…”

“Don’t you want the same?”

You watched as he gulped, and you could feel his hands grab yours and hold them gently in his. “You know before Will came in…and you asked me ‘Is that really all that matters to you? Is that it?’ when we were alone in my room?” he asked.

“Yeah…”

“I didn’t get to…what I wanted to say was…” he trailed off. “You matter to me, Hazel, a lot. You’ve mattered to me for years. I just—I should have—back in Portofino, and back in Japan, I should have said something, and I didn’t because I was too focused on wrestling, too focused on being the best. And I thought I was old, and there you were, and you were so young and so good, and I just couldn’t do that to you. But you do matter to me Hazel. You do. More than anyone.”

“Tell me what you want, Ty,” you were desperate to hear the words.

“I want it to be the right time.”

Memories of your time in bed together after the G1 Climax in Tokyo together flooded your mind like a tsunami. You felt a shiver run up your spine, the electricity from deep within you igniting again. You nodded slightly. “It is the right time,” you assured him.

He kissed you again, just like he did in the lake earlier, and you responded right away to the feeling of his lips on yours. Your hands escaped his hold so you could wrap your arms around his broad shoulders; his own arms wrapping around your waist. You sat there on the counter with Tyson between your legs for what felt like hours, the taste of him so intoxicating you were running out of breath. You didn’t know how to describe his kisses any other way except full – full of emotion, of passion, of love, of seven years of waiting and all the pent-up feelings that came with that. So you took every moment and cherished it, burning it into the back of your mind. Every feel of his curls as you ran your hands through them, every feel of the stubble of his beard rubbing against the bare skin of your face and your neck, every feel of his muscles tightening the more you squeezed your legs around his torso to bring his body even closer to yours.

You found your hands creeping underneath his shirt, his skin of his back so delicate underneath your fingertips. He still had some scratches on his back from the cage match with Jon, and the scar from the gash he got at the G1 Climax tournament in 2016.

Tyson pulled away slightly, quickly. “Do you still feel safest with me?” he asked.

You nodded quickly. “Yes, God yes,” you rushed so your lips could be back on his. “Always, Ty.”

His kisses travelled to your neck and clavicle. His hands were squeezing at your thighs. You were sure he was going to leave a mark somewhere, his kisses and bites becoming insatiable. You were sure your breaths and moans were only fuelling him, but you knew you wanted more. The slight impatience got the best of you. You grabbed his hands before widening your legs. “Touch me Ty,” you breathed out, placing his hand on your hot core over your leggings. “I want you to touch me.”

That apparently flipped a switch in him, because he picked you up in one swoop and began carrying you through the cottage until he got to his bedroom, setting you down on the bed. “Touch me, touch me,” you begged absent-mindedly, so desperate to feel him that you pulled off his shirt.

His hand finally went where you wanted it to go. Your hips immediately bucked at his touch, even though it was above fabric. He moved his body to hover over yours as he did so, making sure he could keep eye contact you and watch all your reactions as he did what you wanted him to do. “Does that feel good?”

“Yeah,” you nodded.

“You gonna let me taste you?”

Your breath got caught in your throat. You wanted it, you wanted it so bad, but the possibility of it actually happening made you slip up. He obviously hadn’t done it previously, with the two of you being the way you were getting in the way of it happening in Portofino and Tokyo. “Y-Yeah,” you stuttered out, nodding.

Tyson gave you a few more kisses as his fingers drew circles and ran up and down the fabric over your core before he pushed himself back on his knees. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of your tights before pulling them off in one full swoop. Next, he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your underwear and pulled them off too, exposing your whole bottom half. He could hear your intake of breath, could see how you were watching his every move. “You okay?”

“Mhmm,” you mumbled out. “Just nerves.”

He furrowed his brows. “Why are you nervous?”

“I don’t know. Just am,” you whispered.

“Hey,” he moved over your body to kiss you. “I want to make you feel good, but if you’re nervous, I don’t have to.”

“No no, I really want you to.”

The two of you couldn’t help but giggle at your response, Tyson kissing you again – quick, little kisses on your lips – before pulling away. “Just tell me if you want me to stop, okay? I’ll stop the second you want me to.”

You nodded in agreement. Not that you’d have to tell him to stop. If he was going to go down on you, there was no way in hell you’d ask him to stop. There wasn’t a force on God’s green earth that would make you ask him to stop. You closed your eyes as Tyson began slowly kissing his way down your body, pulling up your shirt to just underneath your breasts so he could kiss your soft tummy, dragging his tongue and lips along your skin before he got below your belly button. His hands went to your thighs, spreading your legs apart for him.

“You’re so beautiful, Hazel.”

A warmth washed over your body at the words. You watched as he got between your legs, bringing his finger up to feel you. You flinched slightly, already so sensitive. You could see a smirk on Tyson’s face as he brought an arm around to keep your keep your hips down.

There was no precursor for Tyson – no tentative licks or little flicks of the tongue first to ease you into it. He just went right in. He’d waited long enough. It made your jaw drop, a mewl leaving your mouth almost instantly. And he didn’t stop from there. He lapped at you like you were his last meal on earth the entire time he was down there, making you bunch the bed sheets into your fists, your knuckles white. As your moans got louder, you couldn’t help but start writhing in bed. But his arm across your hips was limiting your ability to move, which just made it all the better. You reached down to grab on to some of his curls. He looked up at you with his blue eyes and you almost came right then and there.

“You alright?” he asked quickly.

You nodded. “I’m almost embarrassed to tell you how long I’ve dreamt of you doing this to me.”

You watched as the corners of his eyes crinkled. “Am I better or worse than your little fantasies?”

“Better,” you said automatically. “So much better.”

The vibration from his proud little chuckle just made the experience even more pleasurable. After a short while, you could feel a warmth take over your body, and you knew you were close. You verbalized this to Tyson, who kept doing what he was doing and didn’t change his rhythm at all – thank God. Eventually, you felt your orgasm overcome you, your body writhing at the feeling. You tried to stop your legs from coming together and squeezing Tyson’s head between your thighs, but he didn’t seem to mind when you couldn’t control it anymore. He moved in tune with each buck of the hips, each squirm, never taking his mouth off your pussy, even for a second.

When your orgasm subsided, and you tried to catch your breath after all the moaning and calling out of his name, Tyson kissed the inside of your thighs before moving back up your body. You were desperate to kiss him and crashed your lips onto his when he was close enough. “So sweet,” he mumbled against your lips.

“Christ almighty, Ty.”

He continued kissing you, slow and steady and full just like before, moving to pull your top off. You played with the waistband of his sweatpants for a bit, just to tease him, before pushing them and his underwear down all in one go. You could feel how hard he was then, his cock resting between you. “What other little fantasies have you had about me?” he asked.

You were not prepared for that question. And you were not prepared for having to think about answering as he was kissing his way down your chest. “How much time do we have?” you tried to joke.

“Tell me,” his voice was firm, right before he took a nipple into his mouth.

“I’ve dreamt of it all, Ty,” you admitted, closing your eyes to savour the feeling of what he was doing. “I’ve been dreaming about you since I was, like, twenty-one. That’s a lot of time. What about you?”

He stopped what he was doing, coming back up and bringing one of his hands up to move some hair out of your face. “D’you know how many times I’ve replayed Portofino and Tokyo in my head?” he asked.

So you weren’t the only one. What a feeling it was to know. “Yeah?”

“When we fell between the two beds…” he began, his thumb gliding over your lips. “You don’t forget things like that.”

You nodded because you understood. You had never forgotten that moment either, mostly because it was one of the few moments in your life when you felt pure, genuine happiness. “I love you, Tyson.”

He kissed you. “I love you too, Hazel.”

You kissed each other for a while again, your nails digging into the skin on his arms and back. It was only when he was biting down at the skin near your collarbone that he spoke again. “Will you let me make love to you?”

“No.”

Tyson stopped everything. He looked up at you. “No?”

“I know you can go harder than that,” you said. “I haven’t felt you in seven years, Ty. I need it.”

He was like a man possessed after you said those words, his hands and lips all over you with zero abandon. In one swift movement, he grabbed onto your hips and flipped you over on to your stomach. You got excited at the new position. “Is this okay?” he asked.

“You bet,” the excited grin grew on your face as you got on our hand and knees.

You positioned yourself and purposely crashed your ass into his hips, causing a groan to escape him before you could feel his hand between your bodies, stroking himself several times before using his head to tease your pussy. You gripped onto the sheets, arching your back and biting your lip. When he finally pushed inside you, you let out a cry. He felt just as good as you remembered, if not better. “Jesus fuck, Ty,” you couldn’t help but swear as you felt him fully in you. He was giving you a few moments – you knew that – but you were so desperate to feel him pump in and out of you that you almost resented the fact he wasn’t moving yet. “Fuck me, Tyson. It’s been seven years. Let me feel all of you.”

With every thrust, you could feel every inch of your body igniting on fire. His moans and grunts, the way his hands were gripping on to your hips, the movement of your bodies, the song of the sounds you were making – it all came together in the most pleasurable experience. You got louder and louder as he pounded into you just as you wanted. “God Ty, you feel so fucking good,” you said, flipping your hair over your shoulder to be able to look at him.

“Was this one of your little fantasies too?” he asked.

You nodded. “Yes.”

“Tell me.”

You sighed out, unable to form coherent thoughts. You knew this was only the beginning of the night. If you knew Tyson – and you did – he’d be asking you about all of them, and you wouldn’t be able to get out of it. Not that you wanted to. “We were doing exactly this, but…”

“But?”

“But you pulled me up by my hair,” you said.

To your surprise, you could feel him wrap some of your hair around his hand before tugging on it and pulling you up so your back was flush against his chest. He was gentle but still purposeful with his movements, knowing what he was doing to you. “Then what?”

You gulped. He had slowed his pace moving in and out of you, but the way you were positioned already made it feel so good. Your body shivered at what it would feel like when he lost all control. “You…you had one hand here to hold me up,” you said, grabbing on to his left hand and putting it at the base of your neck. “Just don’t squeeze,” you added quickly.

“I won’t,” he gave you a quick kiss on your shoulder. “What else?”

“Your…your other hand was here,” you grabbed on to his right hand, placing it on your pussy so his fingers were directly on your clit. “You were fucking me so good I was seeing stars, Ty. I woke up and started touching myself.”

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. “Was there anything else?”

You nodded. You took another deep breath. “You were…you were leaving marks,” you admitted. “All here…and here…” your hand moved over your neck and shoulders on both sides before settling back on top of his hand that was on the base of your neck. “When I woke up, after I touched myself, I went to the mirror to see if the marks were real. I was so sad I didn’t have them.”

Tyson’s lips began kissing at your neck and shoulder. “We’ll have to fix that, won’t we?”

“Yes please.”

Tyson’s lips went back to your neck and you could immediately feel him sucking at the skin there, no doubt leaving one of the marks you so wanted. Without warning, he began pumping harder and quicker too, building up a rhythm that hit the most perfect spot in you and made you cry out in pleasure over and over again. His fingers began massaging your clit, too, and it all truly felt like a dream, a dream you had dreamed for seven, eight, nine – maybe ten years now.

You could feel your throat dry up from how long Tyson had been fucking you. You knew you were close to your second orgasm of the night – but it definitely wouldn’t be the last. “Harder, Ty. I’m so close.”

You cried out when you felt just how hard he started to go, and soon enough, you saw those stars you had once dreamed of. The feeling was so intense, and just like the previous times with Tyson, you could feel the pleasure rush through your body from your head all the way to your toes, and down deep in your bones. He was still holding you up, but you felt yourself collapsing, on account of your legs feeling like complete jelly. But then you heard Tyson moan and felt him come inside you, and another rush coursed through your body – so intense that you had to put your hand over his and get him to stop teasing your clit or else you were sure you would explode and cease to exist. Whatever you had ever dreamed previously wasn’t as good as this – it was impossible to compare.

Your heart was beating out of your chest. You hung on to every last feeling of your orgasm until it passed, slowly. “Shit,” you could hear Tyson curse behind you, his head still on your shoulder. “Holy shit. Holy shit.”

“God, Ty,” you breathed out. His one hand left your neck, and the other hand left your pussy, and when they did, you felt yourself collapse onto the bed. Apparently your legs were still non-functioning. You began to giggle at just how fucked out you were, shifting yourself over to your back.

Tyson smiled too, albeit nervously. “I don’t know if giggling is the best reaction here.”

“It’s a good thing,” you let out as he sunk down beside you. You turned your head to look at him, so he could see it in your eyes. “Trust me.”

Tyson giggled too then. “I’ll take it.”

“You’re gonna have to start getting used to it. Especially tonight,” you said. You rolled yourself on top of his chest, looking down on his face. “I mean, I’ve had so many other little fantasies…”

“Baby, I’m just getting warmed up.”

***

19th July 2023

and if you never bleed, you're never gonna grow and it's alright now

The nail bed wasn’t supposed to fall down Tyson’s back and arms, but of course Tyson couldn’t take the spot lightly. And because Tyson couldn’t ever take a spot lightly, his back was now all scratched, gashes and little holes down his entire left side – the same side you’d had to bandage and put ointment on just seven weeks ago. At least there were no thumbtacks.

Once he had finished pulling said thumbtacks out of Kota’s back, he hauled himself onto a training table and a trainer began assisting him. Cotton swabs, disinfectant – there was even a stitching kit ready to go. Matt was on the phone with Dana, Nick was Facetiming with Ellen, and Kota was in his own world. It was a good a time as ever to stand next to Tyson.

You weren’t crying this time. This was already a huge success.

The trainer had cleaned his hands first, bloody from the wreckage in the ring. You watched as the trainer wiped away the blood on his face, disinfecting the area and making him wince. When the trainer moved to his back, Tyson looked at you.

“You okay?” he whispered.

“Yeah,” you nodded quickly. “I’m not crying, so we’re leaps and bounds better than where we were several weeks ago.”

“Does it look bad?”

“It looks like you got into a fight with a bear at the cottage. But somehow, you won the fight.”

Tyson’s laugh was interrupted by a wince. It was obvious the trainer was disinfecting an area. He grabbed onto your hands, squeezing them at the next sting. You squeezed back. “I love you,” he said quietly.

“I love you too.”

As quick as a lightning flash, he brought your hands up to his lips to kiss them. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Matt watching, his eyes bulging out of their sockets with his eyebrows raised in shock. When he saw you looking at him, he smirked and mouthed only one word to you. Finally.

Everything was okay. Everything was alright.

#kenny omega #aew #kenny omega imagine #kenny omega fic #kenny omega fan fic #kenny omega x reader #aew imagine #aew fic #aew fan fic #kenny omega x oc #kenny omega x ofc #kenny omega x original character #kenny omega x original female character

197 notes · View notes

zi-i-think · 3 years ago

Text

Emotional Support Himbo

Pairing: Fred Weasley x fem!reader

Rating: SFW

Word count: 1200+

Warnings: none

Request: yes, @wist-elia

Prompt: Gen Z

23. “Will you be my emotional support himbo?”

AN: JSKINFINFS So almost a year later I have finally posted this. I'm sorry. I don't really have any excuse other than I've been busy and kinda forgot about them. I hope you like it nonetheless. It was basically halfway finished when I got back to it. I think this is the last request I had for the batch I got months ago so I might open the requests again in a bit.

*not my gif

Okay, let’s be completely honest here. Y/n was nervous as hell. When she found out that her mom got a job in the Ministry of Magic in London, she was happy for her, excited even. But transferring from Ivermorny to Hogwarts turned out to be the most nerve-wracking part of it.

It was her sixth year and the school was more curious about the TriWizard Tournament than the new girl. She was thankful for it, there weren’t as many people asking her questions. But it was certainly annoying when people completely forgot she was new and picked on her for not knowing the way around. They were in a castle where stairs changed every couple of minutes, she figured people would at least be a bit more understanding.

As the weeks went by, things got better, for sure, but y/n was still struggling to fit in. She had some friends that she met from her House and classes, but none of them were close and she still occasionally got lost. Originally, she relied on Quidditch to find her place in the big school, but with the tournament, they were canceled for the year. So without strong friends or a hobby, she was basically alone.

That was until one sunny afternoon.

Transfiguration had just ended, marking the end of the school day and the beginning of the weekend. But y/n had to stay behind for a bit discussing a not-so-great grade in her last paper. McGonagall was not lenient on grades, but the best she could do was give her tips and points for the next time.

And once the discussion ended Y/n was eager to leave the class and go back to her dorm where she could take a nap or read a book. But once the door shut behind her and she stood out in the cold hallway, the realization settled in. She still wasn’t sure how to get to the Hufflepuff basement. She looked both left and right, down the long, daunting hallways wishing she paid more attention when walking back to the dorms with her roommates.

She took a chance and turned left, walked down some stairs, then up some again, then down, and with the complete wonder of how she got there, Y/n found herself in the lively courtyard. It was warm out and the sun was inviting, making it perfect for students to hang out and have some downtime.

And while the environment seemed like a great time, all the unfamiliar faces were scary to the new girl. She just wanted to get to her dorm. Spotting a small group of students wearing the same black and yellow tie she wore, Y/n pushed aside her fear for the moment and walked over.

“Excuse me?” She asked with a cheerful smile, getting the attention of one girl with brown hair and glasses. “Could you tell me how to get to the Hufflepuff basement?” She kept it simple, that way there'd be less room to say something wrong.

The other girl smiled and her head tilted to the side a bit in amusement.

“You’re the new girl, aren’t you.” She asked. But not in a friendly or curious manner, but in a taunting, humored way.

“Well, yeah,” Y/n answered with a shrug.

“And you don’t know where the Hufflepuff basement is?” She started the chuckle, her friends following along. “Honey, it’s been weeks, figure it out.”

And with that, she turned her head and kept giggling. Her friends chuckled along lightly, but largely just ignored that y/n was standing right there.

Y/n stood there dumbfolded for a moment. But each passing moment that she was standing there, her embarrassment grew and she took a few steps backward to leave the courtyard. She kept her head low to hide any tears that were threatening to spill out of her eyes. Her chest felt heavy and her throat tight.

It felt like everyone in the courtyard was now staring. Like on her first day where she was put with all the first years to be sorted. Like a black sheep. But now it felt like they were judging her.

Still, y/n felt too embarrassed to look up and ground herself back into reality. To see that no one was actually paying attention to her. Well except for one particularly bored Gryffindor. Fred Weasley sat up against one of the columns with an apple in hand when he noticed the new Hufflepuff loosely composing herself.

He noted two things about her. One, she was pretty. Definitely his type. And two, she was nervous. He didn’t recognize her from his previous years. There was no way she was in her first year, but she was also in Hogwarts uniform, so she wasn’t from Beubaxton.

He bit into the apple just enough to hold it in his mouth and pushed off the column he was on. Y/n had turned from the courtyard into the corridor of the school figuring that it was better to walk anywhere than wandering the yard aimlessly, walking towards the Weasley. He bit into the apple and right before she passed and then started walking right beside her.

“Apple?” He offered the half-eaten fruit to her.

Y/n jumped a little. She didn’t even see him approach her. She looked at him and then the apple. Her brows furrowed in confusion and her cheeks reddened in embarrassment. It was obviously a trick to make her feel even worse about herself.

“Are you offering me an apple that has basically been eaten already?” She asked in annoyance.

Fred then just realized how insensitive the gesture was, so he tossed the apple into his other hand and chuckled at himself.

“I suppose I was. But, we can always go to the Great Hall for another one if you’d like.”

“Honestly, the only place I want to go to is the Hufflepuff common room.” She huffed, wishing this boy would just go away.

Fred’s face twisted in confusion then looked around the hall they were walking down. “You do realize you’re walking the wrong way.” He found himself laughing.

Y/n stopped on her tracks. That was it. She was embarrassed and alone, and on top of that, a Gryffindor was laughing at her. Tears were finally starting to drip down her cheek. “I knew that.” She lied through gritted teeth and turned around the other way.

Finally noticing that he might have done something wrong and that this girl had no clue where she was going, Fred stopped laughing and turned around as well to walk with her.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize you were upset.” He said. Y/n was now wiping her tears with the sleeves of her cloak. “The kitchens are in the same hall as the Hufflepuff common room. I know that much. How about, I walk you to the kitchens and you should find your house from there.”

Y/n looked up at him with slightly puffed eyes. “You’re actually being sincere?” She asked.

“Don’t get used to it, I’m not usually.” He chuckled. Y/n couldn’t help it this time. His laugh was infectious.

“Alright, I won’t.” She grinned and then stuck her hand out to shake. “Y/n L/n.”

“Fred Weasley.” He took the girl’s hand and kissed her knuckle rather than shaking it.

“You’re odd.” Y/n laughed at the strange gesture. “Will you be my emotional support himbo?”

Fred’s eyebrows furrowed and his lips were pressed tightly together as he thought. “Not completely sure what that means.” He admitted. “But yes.”

“Wonderful.” She smiled.

#fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley #harry potter #hogwarts

157 notes · View notes

bookishofalder · 4 years ago

Text

Night Changes [Six]

Summary: In which Poe and the reader recover, and feelings intensify. A mission brings them closer, and memories give us insight into their pasts.

Warnings: Language, violence, smut, fluff, emotions, angst. Everything you came for.

Poe was wandering aimlessly, his feet scuffing along the dirt road as he kept his eyes focused downward, his cheeks stained with tracks of dried tears. His unruly curls were falling into his face, somewhat shielding his eyes from the lowering sun as he ventured around his neighbourhood. When another sniffle threatened, he cleared his throat aggressively and choked it back.

His father told Poe that it was more than okay to cry, as much as he wanted and for as long as he needed. It wasn’t that he was ashamed of crying and showing his emotions, nor was it why he hadn’t yet gone back home. It was just...he was tired; of crying, of feeling so enormously miserable. And now that the funeral and life celebration was over, it felt suddenly very final. Like the second he walked through the door tonight, it would hit him that she was never coming back.

That she was lost to the stars, forever.

It still didn’t feel real, not fully, and so when they were making their way home a short while ago, Poe froze up when they turned the corner onto their lonely stretch of road. He couldn’t bring himself to continue walking, and after a few moments, his father had glanced around to find Poe standing several feet back. A look of sorrow and understanding had crossed his face before he pulled him in for a tight hug and suggested that he take a walk. Told Poe to take his time and come home when he felt ready, that he’d be waiting up no matter the time. Dad was good like that, never pushed but always seemed to understand, to tell Poe he was seen.

He was on a street not too far from home now, the sun low and golden and the temperature easing just enough, though Poe was still sweating a little. He was considering removing his sweater when a voice to his left cut through the air very suddenly.

“Duck!”

He did, not needing to be told twice even though he wasn’t sure what he was avoiding. Glancing up, Poe saw a large red ball fly over his head and instinctively reached up and caught it before it could get too far. When he looked around, standing back up, a boy that looked to be his age was running toward him, his eyes crinkled in a friendly way as he pulled a face that conveyed his apologies.

“Wow, sorry!” The boy said, coming to a halt in front of Poe and panting. He pointed at the ball, “I was aiming for my sister’s head, but I’m not the best kicker.” He admitted, and Poe smiled at the boy’s candour.

“That’s okay, you missed me too,” He held the ball out for the boy, but before he could hand it over a girl, who looked to be a couple of years younger, came barreling over. Her face scrunched in anger that Poe wanted to think was adorable, but it was also kind of scary.

That was the first time Poe saw you.

“Charlie mommy said not to do that anymore!” You shouted, ripping the ball from Poe’s hands and then aggressively tossing it toward your house. It bounced until it hit the duracrete side, rolling to a stop. “You’re a massive-“

“Hey, don’t swear in front of-oh,” The boy paused and looked back over at Poe, who was standing somewhat awkwardly as he watched the siblings exchange. “Sorry, what’s your name?”

You were both looking at him now, your faces friendly and open. “I’m...Poe. Dameron. Poe Dameron.” He mumbled nervously, suddenly feeling too tired and hot. His face flushed a little from the heat and embarrassment, and he just knew you were both going to think he was a real loser.

“Poe Dameron, nice to meet you, buddy! I’m Charlie and this pipsqueak-“ The boy-Charlie- broke off to ruffle your hair as you rolled your eyes, “Is my sister (y/n). We’ve seen you around before, you must live close.”

Poe nodded, “Yeah, just over by-“

“Why are you dressed like that?” You asked suddenly, a hand shooting out to pluck at his black sweater.

Poe hesitated, unsure of how to explain without immediately scaring both of you off. You were surprisingly serious for a little kid, your big eyes sweeping over his face and taking in his red eyes, before again taking in his outfit.

But when you looked back up at met Poe’s nervous gaze, your lips tugged up ever so slightly in a way that...well, it made him trust you. He didn’t know why, but he looked between you and the equally friendly face of your brother and didn’t sense a shred of hostility or insincerity.

“My mom just died, today was,” He took in a shuddering breath, the words heavier to admit than he ever could have imagined, and yet just saying it out loud was surprisingly freeing, “The funeral. I was just...I wasn’t ready to go home yet, I guess.”

Poe had stared at your bare feet as he spoke, focusing on the wiggling toes because he didn’t want to see the pity on your faces after spending the last few days receiving nothing but pitying looks from everyone he’d ever known. He was entirely caught off guard when he heard you give a little gasp, then launched yourself into him, your arms wrapping around his waist and pulling him into an unexpected, firm hug.

“Poe that’s awful,” You whimpered, peering up at him with tears eyes.

Poe felt it then, the shift inside of him that he wouldn’t realize for a very long time was his universe colliding with yours, the staggering sensation of his soul meeting your soul for the very first time. He was too young to know this, of course, but the intensity of his feelings was felt nonetheless. The first thing he did recognize was that he really, really wanted to prevent you from looking so sad.

Charlie’s hand clapped down on his shoulder as Poe gazed down at you in surprise, only seconds had passed, “We’re really sorry about your mom, Poe,” He smiled sadly as he spoke, shaking his head a little. After a moment his gaze shifted to you, “Kid, he’s already warm! Give him some space!”

You almost seemed surprised at your reaction to Poe’s news, though upon hearing Charlie’s admonishment, you quite suddenly jumped away from him, as though you had been electrocuted, all while furiously apologizing to Poe.

You were so adorable and sincere that Poe laughed. For the first time since his father had come into his room and kneeled next to the bed with the most heartbreaking expression to tell him his mother had died, he laughed. Full bellied, the muscles in his face stretching upward into a wide grin, Poe Dameron laughed. There was only a slight pause before you and Charlie joined in, your pealing giggles filling his ears as Charlie held his shoulder and stars, did it ever feel good.

Poe was still just a kid, even though his mom had died and he’d had to suffer through heartbreak that no child ever should, he was at heart still only ten years old. Yet as he stood on the front lawn laughing with the Horn children he was overwhelmed by the feeling of home he found in you both. He knew this was the start of something incredible.

Charlie gestured toward the ball once the laughter began to fade, “Do you have to go home yet, or do you want to play with us for a bit, Poe?” Charlie asked, gesturing toward the ball.

You were nodding eagerly next to him, and with a glance at the sun to confirm it wasn’t yet too late to stay, Poe smiled at his new friends, his eyes meet yours as he answered. “I’d love to.”

————-

Your hips swayed lazily to the music as you eased your way through the evening crowd gathered at Maz Kanata’s cantina. Poe kept close behind you, his face relaxed but his eyes flicking carefully around the room, watching for signs of trouble, his senses on high alert. He kept his face neutral, holding back the frown he found himself tempted to make as strangers' eyes fell down your body when you passed them, drinking in your curves.

You found an empty booth and sat, propping your legs on the seat across from you, the picture of ease and comfort when you smiled up at Poe. He tried to mimic your relaxation, but you’d always been much better at acting a part than him when it came to the cause you both fought for. He had trouble pretending to not be on edge, and so he kept close to you. Not just for safety, but also to be considered a protective partner, rather than an undercover Rebel.

With a small wink, you patted the seat next to you to give Poe permission, that you knew he needed, to sit close to you. He flung an arm behind you, resting against the booth seat, and spread his legs wide in hopes of appearing at ease. Your hand patted his knee briefly and he had to actively work at not tensing under the heat of your touch.

You sat in silence together for a few minutes before Jess Pava cut through the crowd to join you, her hands holding four drinks carefully that you jumped up to help her with. Your body leaned over Poe’s as you plucked two drinks from the fellow pilot’s hands, and he had to take a small breath to steady himself due to your proximity. Stars.

‘Your system is entirely flushed of the pollen, Commander. We ran the extra tests you requested and they came up the same as the previous.’

‘But I feel so...you know what, never mind. If you say it’s gone, then I believe you.’

You handed him his drink and he raised it in thanks, then pretended to take a sip. None of you would be drinking this evening, because you were working but it would have looked suspicious if you’d all sat down in the cantina without them.

“Thanks, Jess,” You sat back down, your thigh only inches from Poe’s. He watched Jess toss you a flirtatious wink and rolled his eyes in amusement as you flushed in response. She had always loved to flirt with you.

“Well, I’m not sure when exactly our friend will arrive but he can usually be counted on to be on time when there are free drinks.” Jess rapped her knuckles on the table, her eyes drifting around the room casually. She’d been based at an outpost nearby Takodana and was the lead on the current intel handoff that required Poe and you.

You scoffed, “I don’t care if he’s late. But if his intel isn’t as good as he claims, I’m shooting him before I ask questions.” Out of the corner of his eye, Poe saw your fingers twitch on your shooting arm; as though you were tempted to pull the hidden blaster from your backpack.

Poe nodded in agreement, “Not that it isn’t lovely to see you, Jess.”

She laughed as Poe grinned, sitting back into her seat to get more comfortable while waiting for the contact to show up. Each of you was dressed to look like casual, tired travellers. In various shades of khaki, Poe wore a light linen shirt tucked into his pants, his blaster hidden in the waistband at his lower back, his regular boots exchanged for a worn pair of travelling boots that were anything but comfortable. You were wearing the same light linen, though the tunic you wore was tighter fitting, tucking into loose-fitting shorts that hit mid-thigh, the look revealing a lot more skin than he was used to seeing.

It was distracting, you were distracting to him, especially as you sat so close to him that he could feel your body heat, smell your shampoo.

Poe and you had been released from the med bay two days before this mission on Takodana. He’d returned twice to demand further testing, unbeknownst to you because he wanted to be certain he would never hurt you again. He’d woken up feeling pretty spectacular, that first day after receiving what Tahla told him had been special transfusions to clear out the pollen. His friend had said it would feel intense, the new clarity in his mind, because he’d spent nearly a month unknowingly gripped by a fog that only increased each time Poe and you touched.

And stars, it was true how free and open his mind felt now. It was like losing a large amount of weight all at once, and with his newfound clarity, he thought there would be a substantial decrease in his attraction to you-enough, that is, to stop his thoughts from wondering and his heart rate to increase every time he so much as looked at you, but that hadn’t happened. Instead, it was like the exact opposite had occurred; free of the effects of the pollen, Poe was no longer confused or overwhelmed by his feelings, rather they had all seemed to be glaringly obvious.

Now, instead of looking at you and remembering what had happened after the pollen exposure, Poe simply became distracted because you were beautiful. Equal parts protectiveness, adoration and attraction surged within him anytime he glanced your way now, and it didn’t feel wrong or confusing any longer. There had been a few times now where you’d looked at him similarly, and he wondered, or rather, hoped, that maybe you were feeling the same.

With a low sigh, you shifted next to Poe, recrossing your legs as your feet rested on the seat opposite, and Poe’s eyes automatically swept over your form. He sensed your apprehension and impatience and let his hand fall forward slightly, sweeping some of your loose hair away from your neck. His belly warmed when he saw you shiver a little.

Pulling his gaze away from you, he glanced around the room once again. Maz Kanata’s was a neutral territory, which meant that coming in disguise was as important as it was to keep your blaster nearby. The place was filled with a mixed bag of smugglers, spies, travellers and more. There was no telling who could be in the room and with you at his side, Poe was hyper-aware of the risks that being members of the Resistance held and he was as eager to leave, with the intel, as he knew you were.

“Oh, here’s our green friend now,” Jess’s voice pulled Poe from his thoughts and he glanced around, spotting the Twi’lek man approaching their table with an easy-going smile.

“Fucking finally,” You murmured to Poe, your warm breath brushing against his neck and raising goosebumps along his skin.

He was starting to wonder if you were doing these things on purpose, now.

Medical Bay Two Days Prior

You awoke somewhat rapidly with a gasp, almost sitting up as you came to, only a hand on your shoulder that seemed to be expecting the reaction cautioned you to remain laying down. You allowed your body to relax, your eyes still shut.

A distant and possibly familiar voice was speaking to you quietly, though you couldn’t make out the words yet.

To wake yourself up properly, you pulled in a deep breath and focused on yourself for a moment, noticing how good you felt, your body light and pain-free. And your head...it felt so clear.

The memories came back, then, of walking down the hallway toward the hangar with Poe, his hands touching you more and more like he couldn’t help himself. How good those hands felt until each of you was falling to the ground in twisted versions of ecstasy. It had been painful, terrifying, and you remembered clinging to him both in panic and for safety as you screamed, Temmin appearing and then it all slips away, the last thing you could recall was the stinging sensation in your arm. It must have been a quick dose of bacta, enough to keep you from dying even though you still passed out from the overstimulation of everything.

As you thought of Poe, panic began to rise within you and you heard the resulting increase in your nearby heart rate monitor. Had they been able to save him, too? Or had he...oh, what if he-

“Major, relax, you need to calm yourself. You are alright. Commander Dameron is safe as well-yes, that’s right, breath for me, Poe is safe, good, good.” The voice next to you was soothing, the firm hand on your arm rubbing up and down gently as your heart rate decreased.

Poe was safe. Your Poe.

And then the clarity hit, no longer blurred by your panic over Poe’s condition, and the monitor picked up the brief spike as your mind caught you up. It was like...the pollen had mangled and warped your feelings, pushing back everything that mattered most to focus on what your body wanted, what it wanted your bodies to do. It left you both in need, even after you worked through the initial exposure, and you hadn’t even realized it. It was like a filter on your brain, not blocking out the real stuff, but keeping you more and more focused on Poe in a sexual way the more you touched, until it all became too much.

But now you could feel everything real and it was almost too much to suddenly bear. You knew you’d forgiven him, that you’d each begun repairs on your broken friendship, falling back into a comfortable pattern...but stars, it was so much fucking more, wasn’t it? You were completely-

With another gasp, you opened your eyes before the realization could send you into a panic, and the Healer next to you prevented you from sitting up again, coming into focus now as you adjusted to the sunny medical room. You saw a privacy curtain around your bed, then looked at the person standing over you.

You blinked in surprise as you gazed at the Healer because you knew him.

“Tahla!” You cried out in delight, and he let you move finally so that you could pull him down to you for a bone-crushing hug. He laughed, a rich baritone he definitely hadn’t had when you last saw him on Yavin-4 years ago.

“Hey kid,” He said, pulling back to gaze down at you with a wide smile, “Welcome back. How do you feel?” He searched your face in a way that told he was there in a professional capacity as much as a friendly one.

“I...well, shit,” You stammered, struggling to sit up. He helped you, adjusting your pillow behind your shoulders and then pulling your blanket up a little. “My head feels so clear, I can’t believe it.” He nodded knowingly as you gazed up at him, looking at his Healer uniform, then to the medical droid next to him waiting for instructions.

Noticing your shift in focus, Tahla pointed in question to the edge of your bed and you nodded, scooting your legs out of the way so that he could sit. He settled, then took one of your hands into his own. “It’s been a few years, hasn’t it?” He asked you softly, “I’m sorry about that. And for not being able to make it to Charlie’s funeral, either.”

“You don’t owe me any apologies, Tahla Martell, you should know that,” You replied quietly, squeezing his hand, “Not after everything you’ve done for me.”

He sighed, nodding his understanding as you both remember your last few months on Yavin-4. He then glanced back at you and despite the faint laugh lines around his eyes, the more dense peppering of facial stubble, you thought he looked much the same as he had all those years ago. Based on how his eyes were roving over your face, you believe he was thinking the same thing.

“I suppose it goes without saying, but I am a Healer now, a specialist actually. In foreign contaminants. My team was responding to the General’s request for assistance, but when I saw your name and Poe’s name on the patient files, I decided to come myself,” He explained, tossing you a little smile that told you he just knew you’d get yourself into trouble someday. You grinned back at him. “The Healer’s here put you both into temporary medical comas, and once I arrived yesterday I was able to complete the transfusions required to clear your system of any and all lingering toxins.”

Frowning now at the memories of the last month, you shook your head, “Tahla, I really fucked up on this-”

“No,” He interrupted softly, and you felt yourself flush a little from the sincerity of the look he was giving you. “You didn’t. That pollen is one of the more lethal ones known to us in the field. The fact that you were both able to survive this long...and once you were exposed, you were both technically compromised. The pollen didn’t want you to report the exposure, that wasn’t a lapse on your part,” He paused, thinking over his next words carefully as you waited patiently with your guilt-ridden heart sitting in your throat. “One could argue that had there not been a delay in your return to base, meaning the three-day travel, it could have been more likely you’d have reported what happened. But because you and Poe were exposed together, worked out the initial effects together, and subsequently remained within close proximity during the travels home, there was absolutely no chance of either of you making that correct call.”

You let that linger for a moment, closing your eyes as the build-up of emotion swelled. It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t fuck up. Though, you couldn’t help but wonder how far-reaching the pollen’s hold on you was. When you opened your eyes, Tahla was watching you closely with an expectant expression, as though he sensed the direction of your thoughts.

“Did-did it affect everything I did and said? That P-Poe-?”

“No, just the more, shall we say, primal parts,” He said thoughtfully, “I read the report you did submit, and I found it interesting. You stated the trip home was fairly uneventful. Was that true, to your recollection?”

“Oh,” You thought back to those three days after you’d made up with Poe. “It really was.”

Tahla bobbed his head in thought, “It’s unique, I think, that exposure happened to two people who had a pre-existing friendship beyond being mere teammates. At least in our reports over the years. Do you recall wanting to touch Poe, but not allowing yourself to do so?”

You stared at Tahla in surprise, “Yes, right after we rolled through the bush that they were growing from. Why?”

He ran a hand over his jaw, brows furrowed in thought. “I think the pollen had its work cut out for it, getting you both to ignore your instincts to protect one another. If you were fighting it that early, well, that’s the first time I’ve heard of such a thing,” He tapped over his lips now and you could practically hear his scientific brain whirring away. “Even the timeline here is beyond anything I’ve ever come across. You were both able to resist initially, then worked the first dose out of your system. But when you came back to base, you were still fighting against the urges and that is...something else. The more you touched, the harder it was not to touch, am I right?”

You wanted to feel more embarrassed at the questions, but you were too caught up in what he might be getting at to give a damn. So instead, you nodded, “Harder not too, but felt more dangerous to continue.”

“I think the preexisting friendship played a major role here, it allowed you both to walk around nearly for a month when you should have been succumbing within a day after the initial-hold on, what symptoms have you had since you’ve been back, other than what we’ve discussed?”

He gave you an intense look then, and now you flushed a lot because you were hoping not to have to talk about the dreams. “I was uh, having dreams. Nightly, or like really early in the mornings. They woke me up.” You bit nervously at your cheek.

Tahla, ever the Healer at heart, got straight to the point. “You were having sexual dreams that woke you up because you orgasmed?”

You pulled your hand from him, covering your face, “Yeah, but it was like only a second or two of relief. And then I’d be worked up all day...tried, you know, before bed to see if it helped, but nothing did.”

“Huh,” Tahla grunted, going quiet for a few minutes as he thought. You suddenly felt very grateful you were having this conversation with him and not any other Healer’s. Stars. “Remarkable.”

You peeked out from behind your hands, “Tahla, are you saying that because Poe and I care for each other so much, we were able to fight against the pollen to a degree? That what happened the other day was the result of too much touching after so much time resisting?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying, or theorizing at this point,” He replied, and you huffed out a breath. This was too much to think about. He seemed to sense your exhaustion and reached out to grip your shoulder. “Back to the initial question, though, you were both still yourselves underneath the underlying desire to, well, you know.”

He laughed a little shyly then and you smirked, quirking a brow in surprise. “Oh now he gets shy,” You giggled, “Stars, Tahla.”

“I know,” He agreed, laughing along with you, “I suppose it doesn’t make sense for us, considering our history. It was my poor attempt at being delicate after asking such personal questions.” He blushed a little and you couldn’t help but grin at him.

You shrugged, “Honestly, I’m glad you’re asking. I want to understand it all, and I’m sure Poe will want to as well. Have you spoken to him at all? Is he awake?” You wanted to see him, tell him everything was okay now.

Tahla opened his mouth to reply, only another voice cut in from the other side of the curtain. “I’m awake, sweetheart.” Your friend stood then and walked around to the other side of your bed, pulling the curtain along as he did. You watched Poe come into view, sitting on his bed with his legs over the side, and you knew straight away he’d heard everything. Meeting his gaze, you felt your stomach flutter in a sudden wave of nerves, because there he was.

Your Poe.

Tahla was saying something to him, but you couldn’t focus on what because you were lost in his eyes, drinking in his features, the soft expression on his face as he gazed at you, and you realized that whatever Tahla had done to cure you of the pollen, it had worked. Because you were looking at Poe now without any barriers-no pollen, no grief, no anger-and you felt like you were back on Gold team, the night before Charlie died, walking across the cantina as Poe watched you and you started to realize how you felt...

He pulled his gaze away, meeting Tahla’s outstretched hand and you looked to your hands where they sat in your lap. You swallowed, your mouth suddenly dry, though the hovering medical droid passed you a cup of water moments later and provided a nice distraction from your thoughts.

“Well, you’ll both remain here for a few more hours just for observation, but I’m releasing you at dinner time. You’re cleared for duty, so I’m sure you’ll be in the field as of tomorrow.”

“And we...you’re sure, one hundred percent sure, that nothing else can happen? That I-we-“ Poe broke off awkwardly, and you kept your eyes on the drink in your hand.

“I’m completely, entirely sure, Commander.” Tahla assured you both, “Listen, I’ll be off by dinner time so I’d love to catch up if you’re both up to it?”

You glanced up, meeting Tahla’s warm eyes, “That sounds great, Tahla.”

You saw Poe nod out of the corner of your eye, “Yeah man, see you then.”

He left you then, not before reminding you both to relax, and throwing a wink your way that you knew Poe hadn’t seen. When the door shut behind him, you were both silent for a long minute, though you could sense Poe looking at you. And you felt...nervous, under his gaze now, though you wanted to look at him as well, you were afraid of what he might read from your expression. He’d always been able to read you well, and you him.

“How are you doing, sweetheart?” He finally broke the silence, his voice low.

You clasped your hands in your lap, then looked up and met Poe’s eyes. The heart rate monitor gave you away, gave you both away. Each of you gazed at one another, hearts racing, and you thought it felt really good to be looking at Poe, no pollen making it about sex. Instead, you looked over at your best friend and realized how much you cared for him. How much you missed him. How scared you had been to lose him again.

Before you could overthink it, you were out of your bed. It was only a few steps to his, just enough time for Poe to sit up straight, eyes bright, before catching you in his arms. You flung yours around his shoulders and pulled him close, stepping between his legs as you did. “Poe,” You murmured, and his arms tightened around you in response.

You slid one hand into the curls at the nape of his neck, smiling to yourself when you heard him give a low sigh in response. He pressed his face into your neck, making you feel safer than you’d ever felt in your life, wrapped there in his arms. You think you were both putting a lot of things left unsaid into the hug, neither of you quite ready to talk it all out, but silently agreeing all was forgiven.

And as clear as you realized your feelings were for Poe Dameron, you also knew that you weren’t ready to voice them aloud, no longer because you denied them, but rather because you feared they wouldn’t be reciprocated.

Poe didn’t trust the contact, despite the Twi’lek’s easy smile and friendly banter. His opinion was possibly coloured by the fact that Dario had first greeted Jess, whom he’d met several times, before promptly and very obviously dropping his gaze to check you out and then making a show of shaking your hand as Poe glowered at him. He would have remained angrier had he not noticed you shift a little closer to him once Dario looked away to take his seat.

“Listen, I think considering the shit I’ve gone through to give you this information, the least you can all do is enjoy another drink with me,” Dario stated, tapping his glass with a long green finger. “At least make me feel like we’re friendly, Jess.”

Jess rolled her eyes, her jaw tight, “Don’t pretend to suffer more than you do, Dario, it’s unbecoming.” The Twi’lek barked laughter in response. Jess sighed, “We can stay a little longer, and then we’re giving you your credits and you are giving us our intel and we’re leaving, got it?”

“Fine, fine,” He relented, glancing around at the three of you, “Well, who's buying this round?”

Poe wasn’t about to let the man out of his sight, something that you understood just from the set of his shoulders because you sat forward instantly, “I’ll go,” You shot Poe a look that said you were just as annoyed as him before standing up and stepped past him carefully.

Dario noticed the way Poe’s eyes determinedly stared at the table when you stepped over his lap. And he didn’t let it go unmentioned, either, “So are you two a thing or do you just enjoy the heavy sexual tension you carry for one another?”

Jess tried to hide her laughter in her drink, giving Poe an apologetic sort of look when he glared at her. “You said friendly, not friends. I’m not going to let you braid my hair and ask about feelings and shit.” He huffed, to which Dario simply chuckled, raising his glass at Poe.

“Sorry, sorry. Just wanted to be prepared if you suddenly started going at it on the table.”

“You know what man,” Poe growled through clenched teeth, leaning forward, “You suck at making friends.”

Dario raised his green hands in mock surrender, “Then you won’t mind that a smuggler just pinched her ass?” He jerked his chin toward the bar and Poe whipped his head around, seeking you out in the crowd.

Sure enough, you were leaning against the bar and a large, unruly-looking man was standing way too fucking close. Poe was out of his seat in an instant, catching your eye as he approached. The thing about places like Maz’s was that if a little traveller woman like you suddenly pulled out highly skilled hand-to-hand combat moves, it would draw a lot of attention, which your group was rather eager to avoid. Poe, on the other hand, could easily get away with what he decided to do the moment he saw you flinch, the smuggler having pinched you again.

Wordlessly, he pulled you close with one hand and grabbed the back of the smuggler's neck at the same time. Before he could react to Poe’s sudden appearance, his face was smacking off of the bar. He folded somewhat comically, unconscious on the floor. Poe looked at the bartender now placing the drinks on the counter.

“Here’s a few extra credits for the trouble, man.” He passed them over, and the gruff-looking man merely grumbled his thanks, pocketing the credits and then directing a nearby droid to drag the man outside.

“That was satisfying,” You quipped at his side, drawing Poe’s gaze. You pitched your voice lower to prevent anyone from overhearing you, “I think you broke his nose, flyboy.”

Poe laughed, releasing his hold on you but moving his hand to rest on your lower back, just in case anyone else thought they could come near you. “You good? I can go outside and finish him off, you know.” He was only half-joking, and you arched a brow at him before reaching out to pick up the drinks, passing two to him to carry.

“If I can resist the urge to kill him, then you can too,” You replied, leading the way back to the table. “But thank you all the same.”

Before he could reply, Poe met the amused expression on Dario’s face and frowned at him over your shoulder. Jess was determinedly looking anywhere but Poe, which told him enough about where her loyalties were. And while you’d been all smiles for him moments ago, evidently your patience had been torn to shreds from your interaction with the smuggler.

“Alright, here’s your fucking drink,” You growled, slamming the glass on the table in front of Dario, “Now hand over the intel or I’m kicking your ass.” Poe had to bite back a proud smile.

Dario exhaled as he gave you a weary look, “Wow, you’re kind of scary when you get all worked up,” He admitted, shooting back his drink in one go, “Since I don’t think you really want to be my friend now, I’ll give up on the attempt here at civility.”

You gave a cold laugh as Jess leaned toward Dario, “Look, you promised me good intel, good enough that I called in these two to get it straight from you rather than risk it hopping between squadrons. Hand it over and you get your credits and a continued pass from our people to remain on Takodana peacefully.”

With a roll of his icy blue eyes, the Twi-lek man reached into an inner front pocket of his jacket and pulled out a data stick, passing it to you. You grabbed for it but Dario didn’t let go straight away, instead leaning forward to meet your eyes levelly as you both held the intel. “Probably should mention one thing,” He began, and Poe felt himself go rigid, eyes on Dario.

“Oh yeah?” You replied coldly, giving another tug on the intel.

Dario let go of it, “The man I stole that from has a lot of people working for him and I may have been made a few minutes ago. More than likely there are First Order officers on their way, which is why you’ll be happy to hear I no longer want your money. Just sneak me out the back with you and I’ll be on my merry way, deal?”

Poe’s eyes flicked around the room, seeing no immediate threats but fully aware that sneaking out was going to be an issue with so little warning. You had stiffened, then quickly pushed the data stick down the front of your shirt into your chest band before reaching across the table and grabbing Dario’s shirt roughly, tugging him close. “You motherfuck-“

Jess was already typing into her comm as you let loose on Dario, unleashing the fury of your words in place of kicking the shit out of him and Poe continued to survey the room. “Poe,” Jess said, and he glanced toward her, “I’ve got back up coming in for a distraction in two. You’ll have to go out the doorway to the south, take a long way around to your ship.”

“Well, it was great seeing you again, Jess,” He replied lightly, “We’ll have to do this again sometime. Everything, the bad drinks, the toxic masculinity, our idiot Twi’lek the Major is currently teaching a new language. Really, it’s been wonderful.” With a final laugh, Jess reached over and patted your head in farewell, winked at Poe, and then sprinted away from the table to meet her backup outside. The distant sounds of shouting and a sudden loud bang was all the warning Poe needed a minute later.

Grabbing you by the arm, Poe quickly stood and began toward the exit, hearing rather than seeing that Dario was still there because he was cursing as he stumbled along in your angry grip. Pushing through the doorway, he heard Dario cry out in pain and glanced around to see him reaching for his shin. You had kicked him. “Sweetheart, need you to-“

You were on your wrist comm before he finished, “On it,” You said, running a scan of the immediate area, which thankfully came up clean, “It’s your lucky day, Dario, you get to live to see another. I’d say farewell, but I wouldn’t mean it!”

Poe laughed, then pointed into the tree line, “Go that way as long as you can before circling back to your ride, they’ll be gone pretty soon.” He told the Twi’lek, who grunted his thanks and tore off in the direction Poe had indicated. “Which way?” He asked you, knowing you had the entire area memorized in preparation for this mission.

You nodded to his right, adjusting the bag on your shoulders, “That way, there’s some water we can lose them in. Unless you’ll let me go and kill Dario-“

“I’ll let you kill him if we ever bump into him again, I promise,” Poe grabbed your hand and started running, neither of you unaware of the danger you were in with First Order troops nearby. Once safely in the cover of the trees, he continued between breaths, “Though I think it’s safe to say he’s going to be in hiding for a while.”

“He won’t be able to hide from me if this intel is anything but as good as he claimed,” You grumbled, your grip on Poe’s hand tightening as you jumped over thick roots, “You think Jess is alright?”

“Of course,” And he wasn’t lying, he knew she would be long gone by now, seeing as this was more her territory than anything. “You should really be more worried about us, sweetheart.”

You giggled, “I am! Listen, I know we said we’d go straight around to our ship but with Dario out there knowing that it’s probably best we hide for a while.” You left it unspoken, but it meant that you’d be camping in the dense wilderness as you hid from the First Order with highly sought-after intel that they didn’t want in the hands of the Resistance.

“All in a day’s work, eh?”

You sighed heavily in response. Jumping into the ankle-deep stream, you began walking in the opposite direction of the ship, further into the forest. Poe felt the water soak through his socks in seconds and couldn’t help but agree with your angry reaction back in the Cantina. Careless or intentional, Dario had all but ensured Poe and you would be on the run until you could get off of this planet and escape in hyperspace. And he had wet socks to top it all off.

“It’s open!” You called out, glancing up from the dining table where you were sealing the last few boxes of your mothers' things, to see Tahla Martell standing in your doorway. “Hey, Tahla.” You said warmly, moving to greet him in the hallway.

“Hi kid,” He replied, pulling you in for a hug, “I know you’re leaving first thing and you already said your goodbyes to us all, but I didn’t want you to be alone on your last night on Yavin-4.” He held up a covered dish that you caught the scent of, his mother's lasagna.

Warmth spread through you at his kind gesture, “Tahla, that’s so sweet of you,” You had to clear your throat, blinking back tears.

It had been a rough few months since your mother had passed, the house you’d lived in with her for over a year without Charlie and Poe seeming far too big now with just you wondering the lonely hallways. Packing things into storage was at least somewhat therapeutic, and you were keeping the house, but you knew you wouldn’t be visiting anytime soon. It just felt wrong to sell it until you saw Charlie in person and discussed the options.

And you felt a little guilty too, with how excited you were to be headed to the Resistance base the next morning. You’d be seeing your brother and Poe again after two years apart and you couldn’t wait. The fact that your friend understood your mixed emotions and shown up with dinner was...beyond appreciated. Tahla had always been good to you, even when you were younger and Poe had caught you kissing and punched him for it. He hadn’t done anything other than saying he’d prefer to be friends and a friend he’d remained all of this time.

“Are you hungry now?” He asked, and you nodded before moving to the kitchen and realizing you packed up all the plates. Tahla followed you, placing the food onto the table.

“Uh, you okay with eating straight from the dish? I think I have some forks...” You glanced around and spotted the box with cutlery, popping it open and pulling out utensils. Tahla laughed and sat at the kitchen table, taking the cover off of the food. You joined him, moving your chair close and passing him a fork before you both dug in.

You ate in comfortable silence, eating your fill and then sitting back in your seat and pushing the rest toward Tahla while you held your full stomach in content. You looked around the bare kitchen, another wave of nostalgia and emotion bubbling up.

“It feels sadder because it’s not how you pictured it,” Tahla said, breaking into your thoughts. You looked up at him, confused, and he clarified. “You were supposed to be leaving while your mom fussed over you and promised you she’d spend all of her free time with my mom, that she wouldn’t be lonely. She was supposed to take you to the flight dock and wave at you when you boarded, tell you to give Charlie and Poe hugs from her. It’s okay to be sad about how it is instead.”

Emotion swelled again and you nodded because he was right. Your mother was supposed to be here, you were the one that was leaving her, it shouldn’t have been this twisted version, where she left you by way of a sudden and fatal heart attack as you shopped the market together one morning several months before. Tahla and his mother had been at the market as well, a few booths away haggling when they’d heard you screaming, and Tahla had had to pull you away from your mother’s still, peaceful-looking body as his mother checked her pulse and called for Healers. He’d held you for hours, eventually bringing you home, only leaving when you insisted he could come back first thing in the morning.

You ducked your head down as tears spilled onto your cheeks, ashamed to be crying in front of Tahla. He put down his fork and shuffled closer, pulling you in for a gentle hug, patting your back, “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to upset you, I could just tell-”

“No, you’re right,” You interrupted, pulling back only slightly and wiping a hand across your face, “Y-you understand, and I’m grateful. You’ve always been an amazing friend. I’m going to miss you, you know.” You tried for a small smile, and he returned it with his warm one. You sighed, “I just wish I was leaving this place...my home, with better memories. Alone for the last few months, packing things up, sorting out mom’s will, it’s not how I pictured it.”

Tahla nodded in understanding, “I’d tell you to focus on the fact you’re seeing Charlie and Poe, but I know it doesn’t help with this part.”

“I appreciate it all the same, Tahla,” And you leaned back in to hug him again, knowing he’d probably be leaving in a few minutes and wanting to enjoy the last moments of peace before you were alone in this whole house again. “This is a good memory, though, so thank you.”

He chuckled, the vibrations moving you as you leaned into his chest, “I know the lasagna makes it seem like mom sent me over, but I was planning on stopping by either way,” He admitted, his eyes finding yours again when you leaned back. “Didn’t seem right to let (y/n) Horn fly away from home without a proper goodbye, and by that I mean I selfishly wanted to be the last person you saw.”

You quirked a brow at his joke, Tahla was always ready to flirt with you, “Oh yeah? Well, I’m glad you did.” And while your words were light, the tone of voice you used surprised even you, coming out a little more sultry than either of you expected.

You saw Tahla swallow in surprise, his wide eyes flicking from yours, then down to your lips as you wet them. Boldly deciding to go for it because he was your friend and it was your last night at home and he was handsome and kind and sweet-

Tahla closed the distance, pressing his lips to yours and you moaned in response, gripping his shirt. Opening your mouth to deepen the kiss, you smiled because you both tasted like lasagna. Beneath that, though, you could taste the warm, masculine undertones of Tahla Martell, and based on the low rumble in his chest and the way his hands tightened on your waist, he could taste you as well.

It was kind of like one of your books, how you ended up in your bedroom down the hall, clothing stripped as you moved together until you were hitting the bed and he was pulling away from your mouth to move his lips down your bare body. The sun was low now, casting your room in a gentle golden glow and for the first time in some time, you were feeling something other than grief and loneliness in your bed.

The fact that it was with your friend Tahla...while you’d admit you had always imagined your first time with someone different, you had accepted a long time ago that it wouldn’t happen that way. He was older and more experienced and had spent two years worlds away and free to do whatever he wanted. And Tahla had always been your close and trusted friend, he’d been there for you before your mother died and since, and now he was moving his lips and tongue across your most sensitive areas like he couldn’t imagine a better way to be spending his time.

The empty house was filled with your cries and moans as Tahla, who admitted it wasn’t his first time, brought you to the edge and over several times with just his mouth and fingers before he climbed up your body and kissed you again. You moaned, tasting yourself on him, surprised at how turned on that made you, and then almost cried when he moved back and told you that you could stop here if you wanted, that it didn’t need to go any further but he would still stay the night, wouldn’t leave you alone.

You had intended to go all the way the moment he’d literally lifted you from your chair in the kitchen, but now you pulled him to you with a renewed sense of longing, telling him you trusted him, that you needed him. He didn’t to be told twice, his eyes searching yours one moment, then dropping down between your bodies as he glided his cock through your wet folds. He sighed your name when he pushed in, filling you slowly but entirely before stopping and allowing you to adjust to his considerable size. It hadn’t hurt as much as you’d feared, but the sharp sting was still enough to have your eyes pricking, and he leaned forward and peppered you with soft kisses and kind words, encouraging you to voice what you needed and tell him if anything was too much.

It had surprised you both when the pain had ebbed away and you were suddenly rolling your hips eagerly. Tahla recovered and braced his elbows on the bed and began a hard pace that had you practically begging for more, unrelenting even as you came around him. He grunted as he neared his orgasm, his pace slowing to draw the pleasure out as long as you both could stand. He let you roll him onto his back and ride him at an almost lazy pace, his eyes never shutting, even when you found just the right angle to draw the deepest groans from him, intent on watching your face. He’d seemed almost in awe of you like he couldn’t believe what was happening even though it had been...well, the sun had set so going on just over an hour, you had realized.

When you came again as you rode him and his name tore from your lips, Tahla went over the edge with you. He had grabbed your hips and held you down when he came, your name mixing with curses as he filled you.

And then you’d let yourself fall forward and shift, felt him slide out of you before cuddling in and realizing that he meant what he said, that he wasn't going anywhere. He even kissed you again between whispering his promises to remain, his praise over how good it felt to be with you.

You think you loved him a little then, but at the same time, you couldn’t help but think of how he’d done a good job replacing the man you’d pictured having your first time with and you knew that it was a good thing this had happened on the eve of your departure. You could love Tahla Martell but never fall in love with him.

Tahla woke with you in the morning, helped you gather your things, promised to check in on the place occasionally. And then he drove you to the flight dock, where he waved you off with a promise to see you again someday. His smile a little sadder but genuine and filled with enough affection to have you run back for one last hug goodbye, one last kiss on the cheek and a final thank you for being everything you had needed without even knowing.

“This is cozy, really very cozy,” Poe grumbled from where he sat on the cold ground of a small-make that, minuscule, cave that you’d found after several hours of hiking through the forest stream. “Just enough room to stretch out and feel the ache in every part of my body.”

You hummed in reply, rifling through the backpack you’d had strapped on during the journey. “I can only feel the blisters on my feet, everything else is nothing compared to those.”

Poe grunted in agreement, glancing down at his now bare feet. They were reddened and bloody from sloshing through the water for so long in cheap boots. “Think I’ll be fighting you on who gets to take out Dario now, sweetheart.” You laughed tiredly in response.

You were settled on the ground in front of him, pulling out items from the pack now; food rations, water, and a medical kit. He’d put a small light on, the glow barely casting, just enough to see each other. Poe watched you kick off your shoes and then peel off your socks, setting them aside with Poe’s to dry, before tearing open your ration and taking a bite. Plucking his ration from your extended hand, Poe copied you and together you ate in silence, the meal brief but filling. His eyes were already starting to droop, the busy day catching up to him.

You pulled out some small bacta patches from the medical kit and pointed to his feet, “I’ll do yours if you do mine,” You smiled, and he chuckled lowly, nodding.

You held out your hand for his feet and he carefully adjusted his legs to plop them into your lap, reclining back on his hands. He watched you work, tugging the light closer to see his blisters better and place patches over each one, which instantly eased the discomfort. When you finished, you squeezed his leg before pulling out a cleaning wipe and working it over your hands. You glanced up very suddenly, catching Poe as he watched you.

He held your gaze, wishing he could read your mind. He could tell you were equally as annoyed with the way the mission had turned out as he was, that you were relaxed over the current predicament because you’d both escaped the close reach of the First Order plenty of times before. You were tired, too, but there was something else about the way you looked at him that sent heat up his back, and he felt grateful again for the freedom from the pollen-now he knew his reactions to you were genuine, and he felt the depths for which they went, the intensity, the rightness of it all.

“I feel like we’re thinking the same thing right now,” You surprised him by saying, passing him a package of patches, then switching places to rest your feet in his lap instead. Poe caught your feet in his hands deftly.

“What’s that?”

You tilted your head, a small smile tugging your lips upward, “That it’s nice to be around each other without any other bullshit affecting us-pollen or anger, I mean.” Poe wasn’t sure if it was your intent or not, but something about the tone of your voice had him flushing, and he returned your smile quickly before dropping his gaze to your feet.

He set to work, wanting to laugh at how small your feet were, before replying, “I was thinking that, yes,” He admitted, carefully placing the patches on your blisters. “It’s nice...nice to know what I’m feeling is real, now.”

“Yeah, it sure does,” You agreed softly, sighing a little when he placed the final patch over a particularly nasty-looking wound. You tossed him a wipe and he cleaned off his hands as he moved his eyes from your feet to your face. “Thank you.” You added, wiggling your toes happily.

Pulling your feet from his lap, you returned to rummaging in your backpack, first finding a couple of pairs of clean, dry socks for you each to put on. You then pulled out two thin, rolled-up blankets. Poe sighed, “I’m guessing you don’t have a couple of comfortable fold-out cots in there, Major?” He teased, and you giggled while shaking your head.

“Just some lovely, extra scratchy cameo blankets, Commander,” You passed him one of the pitiful little blankets. They were made of a material mixture that worked to confuse heat signature detection more than they provided any warmth or comfort, but they were better than nothing. That’s what he told himself, anyway.

It took no time at all to prepare to sleep, though as Poe shifted around on the hard ground he wondered exactly how he would achieve it. Usually, he was content to pop a jacket under his head, but the planet was warm enough this time of year that you’d only packed a couple of very thin raincoats as a precaution. You clicked off the light and laid next to him, a few inches separating your bodies as you tucked yourselves into your blankets and tried to get comfortable.

It was maybe three minutes later, staring into the pitch black, the Poe gathered the courage to throw out a suggestion. “Proposal...” He spoke softly into the darkness and heard your head turn toward him.

“Go on then,” You replied, though he could sense you had probably guessed what he was going to say, seeing as you were no doubt as uncomfortable laying flat on the rocky ground.

“How about we roll your blanket into a makeshift pillow, you come here and share mine, and we actually get some rest?”

Instead of replying he heard you sit up and felt a brush of air across his face from you lifting your blanket to straighten it and roll. Now that he’d offered up the idea, however, Poe tensed slightly at the realization that he was moments away from holding you in his arms. He felt his face grow warm and felt grateful for the impenetrable darkness the cramped cave provided.

“Lift,” You said at the same moment your hand found his head, tapping. He raised his head and you slid the rolled blanket underneath, providing immediate relief. Poe slowly reached out for you, hesitating when he found your back, then curling it around you when you shuffled into his side and laid against him. After a moment, your head dropped down onto his chest, though your body was almost rigid against his. Another instance where the ability to read your mind would come in handy.

“Relax, sweetheart,” He murmured, turning his head and pressing his lips to your hair. He adjusted the blanket, ensuring it covered you both, then rested his hand on your hip. He thought you might not listen, you still seemed frozen against him, but Poe was smiling a moment later when he felt your entire body melt into the side of his before your hand came to rest over his heart. The position was so familiar, a lifetime of nights together growing up just like this, that he almost couldn’t bear it. “That’s it, sweet girl, get some sleep.”

He couldn’t have said what happened after that, because you both very promptly fell asleep, warm and safe in one another’s arms. Despite being on the cool, hard ground in a cave in the forests of Takodana, hiding from the First Order, Poe had one hell of a good sleep that night.

—

You were staring through a gap in the trees towards the shipyard outside of Maz Kanata’s castle, sitting entirely still in the morning light that filtered through the trees as you surveilled for any sign of First Order troops. You’d bee on watch for twenty minutes while Poe ran around the perimeter, and you were on edge. You didn’t like having to separate, afraid if one of you was captured you’d be less likely to get away without backup, but there was nothing to be done for it.

You might also be a little worked up from spending the night wrapped in Poe’s arms, but you weren’t focusing on the right now. You definitely weren’t fixating on the way he’d spoken to you to encourage you to relax, nor of how he’d called you ‘sweet girl’ and seemed unaware of the effect that had on you. And you certainly were not remembering how, upon waking up at dawn and enough light came into the cave, you had realized how wrapped around one another you were. At some point in the night, you’d both shifted, legs tangled and Poe’s head nuzzled into your neck, an arm wrapped over your body in a way that made you feel safe at the same time revealing how small you felt compared to his broad, muscular frame.

But most of all, you were absolutely not thinking about how Poe had woken up moments after you, lifted his head to peer down at you with heavy-lidded eyes, and then just held your gaze with an unreadable expression on his face that had left you breathless. It was like he’d pinned you to the floor with that fucking look, and you weren’t sure if it was a minute or an hour before your comm alarm went off, indicating an incoming message, and you tore your eyes away to read the message from Jess, who’d managed to send through that it was safe to return to your ship.

In fact, you were so focused on your mission, so completely not obsessing over the last twenty hours, that you were not at all surprised when Poe suddenly appeared at your side, panting slightly from his run.

He saw you jump in surprise. “Did I scare you?” He joked, and you grumbled in response, though this was worse than denying it outright and he started to laugh, before pointing ahead to the pathway “We can take that, head straight for the ship, everything is clear ahead.”

Click.

All it took was the sound of a blaster’s safety clicking off for Poe to grab you and whirl, shielding you completely from the enemy who had snuck up on your six. It took a second for you to steady yourself, then you had to peer carefully around his shoulder to see who it was. The familiar green form stood a few feet away with a grimace, pointing a fairly old-looking blaster directly at you and Poe.

“Dario, you fucking-“ You snarled, attempting to move around Poe but his arm shot back and held you behind him with surprising strength, and you stilled.

“I know, I know,” Dario drawled, unmoving, “Honestly, I had no plans to do this but the First Order put a pretty decent reward out for whoever manages to capture you two. Figured I could get back into their good graces, clear my ledger, you know how it is honey.”

Poe had left his hand resting at your hip, and at Dario’s words, his grip tightened. You were pressed against his back and could feel the tension, the coil in his muscles ready to snap. “Buddy, you do not want to try this. Handing us over to the First Order only puts a massive target on your head-and the Resistance doesn’t play games when it comes to betrayal.” His words were laced with venom, his voice low.

You’d seen Poe like this only a few times in your life because usually when it came to being cornered by enemies he was cocky, mouthing off to distract until he could come up with a plan. Today, however, Poe was almost frightening to you, his focused rage as intense as it was. You pressed a hand into his back, just to do something to calm him-this was one Twi’lek, surely you could take him before he called for back up, when your hand brushed over something hard.

His blaster.

Yours was at your hip, and you knew it was too risky to go for it with Dario pointing his own at Poe’s heart. You wouldn’t even attempt it, however, the blaster tucked into the back of his pants, hidden beneath his shirt, was more than ideal. You just had to time it right.

“Look, I’m more sorry than anyone that it’s come to this. But you two are valuable, did you know that? I certainly didn’t,” Dario took a half step closer, his eyes moving from yours, where you were still peeking from around Poe, and then up to Poe’s, “I will do you one favour though. I won’t tell them how close you are; hopefully, that’ll keep them from torturing you in front of one another-“

Your temper flared again, “They wouldn’t get anything out of us regardless, Dario, that’s why this is fruitless. You hand us over and you’re only letting us die!” As you spoke, you dropped your hand to pull Poe’s shirt from his pants, sliding your hand underneath to grip the blaster.

“Don’t,” Poe said firmly, his eyes still on Dario. You knew it was a command for you, and you hesitated.

Dario sighed, “I have to, and I’m sorry about this but I’ll have to shoot you, big guy because I can’t risk things getting physical,” He lowered the blaster to aim for Poe’s leg, “I hear the First Order have excellent medical staff, so-“

You felt Poe’s grip on your arm adjust, and realized he was going to try and throw you out of harm’s way and take the shot. Now, you didn’t hesitate, pulling the blaster out, clicking the safety off and aiming it at Dario’s head before he realized what was happening. With no other choice, Poe let you go as you stepped from behind him.

“That’s good, you’re going to need them.” You seethed, watching in amusement as Dario tightened his hold on his blaster, gritting his teeth to outgun you. He didn’t stand a chance. You shot his arm first, forcing him to drop his weapon, and then fired two more shots; one to the opposite shoulder, and one to the leg. He cried out in agony and you marched forward, flipping the blaster in your hand to grip the heated shaft, and drove the blunt end into the side of his head.

Dario sagged to the ground, unconscious.

“Well, I’ll hand that one to you,” Poe spoke from behind you, and you glanced around to find him watching you, hands on his hips, smirking in a way that didn’t meet his eyes. “Even if you did ignore my order.”

With a sigh, you held out his blaster for him, watching his jaw clench as he took it from you. “You put that in the report. And I’ll put in the part where you shoved me behind you,” You quipped, quirking a brow at him. He knew it wasn’t protocol for him to have protected you like that, and as much as you were touched and your heart was racing over how instantaneously he had reacted to ensure you were safe, you weren’t going to let him chew you out for doing the same. “Now can we leave this fucking forest, flyboy, or do you want to punish me first?”

You hadn’t meant the words to come out so...charged. You were worked up, still reeling a little over the fact that Poe was almost shot, and you wanted to leave before anything else happened. He had been watching you like he expected your initial remarks calling him out for the break in protocol, seemingly amused. You weren’t sure what he was going to shoot back at you, and you didn’t find out because the moment you tacked on the last line, his expression went blank and he simply stared at you for a very long moment.

You couldn’t look away from him, despite the heat crawling up your neck from embarrassment. You weren’t even sure where the words had come from, because they were enormously similar to how you and Poe used to speak to one another, teasingly, but you’d said it with so much more attitude. Like you were flirting without caution, and it caught him entirely off guard. You wished you could read his mind, as his eyes, now brighter than you’d seen them in a while, searchd your face.

“Let’s...let’s go,” He finally looked away, his eyes flicking around the forest, then to the still unconscious Dario, and then to his blaster. You weren’t sure, but you thought his voice came out a little more husky than usual, and heat pooled in your core as you briefly wondered what being punished by Poe Dameron would feel like.

Poe stood under the hot water, eyes closed, replaying the last few days in his head. His fresher was one of the few places he could be completely alone and he was taking advantage of a quiet afternoon to himself.

After returning from Takodana that morning, he had taken the intel from you to give to BB8 to begin decryption, and you had gone off to begin working on your mission report. Usually, you did this right in the hangar, but today you’d given him a shy smile, and then marched off. He hadn’t seen you since, though he was sure he would find you in the dining hall for dinner.

He was worked up from the mission, that much he knew for sure. It hadn’t gone as planned-when did they ever?-but he was, well, fucking impressed with you. You’d always been something else when it came to being pinned in a corner, though thankfully he’d only seen it a couple of times. But today you had been like a warrior goddess, shooting Dario without even a tremble in your finger and then knocking him unconscious like it was an afterthought. You made it all look easy.

He tried to admonish you just a little for ignoring him, but you had been right that he wasn’t one to talk about breaking protocol. And then you hit him with that flirtatious little line, wetting your fucking lips as you said it, appearing a little shocked at your boldness. He’d had to force himself to go blank, fearing your ability to read him like a book, while he watched you squirm under his gaze.

That pollen had nothing, nothing, on you. An innocent remark from you and he was bulldozed, ready to drop to his knees and tell you he’d give you whatever you wanted, needed, even if he had to fly across the galaxy for it. And you had no idea, he could see that you just didn’t know how much of a hold you had on him, on his heart. Poe had gone back to the med bay the other day, before the mission, and confirmed twice over with Tahla and his team that he was clear of all toxins because his feelings were so intense.

And he’d realized that what he was feeling was so much more real and right compared to the foggy desire that the pollen had caused. And he knew now, after watching you in action in the cantina, and then as you found a safe spot to hide for the night, and certainly in the morning when he’d woken up wrapped around you and gazed into your sleepy eyes, that he loved you.

That he was in love with you.

There was no one else.

And there never would be, because you were his soulmate.

Stepping out of the shower, Poe dried off and began dressing. His mind was flipping through old memories, some from when you were kids, others from after you’d joined the Resistance, each of them evidence to support his realization. He was fastening his trousers when a knock sounded at his door, and he wandered over and hit the release button without thinking, so lost in thought as he was.

“Hey, Poe, sorry I...uh...” You faltered, wide eyes falling comically down his bare torso before snapping up to look somewhere above his eyebrows. Your voice came out almost in a squeak, “Just seeing if you wanted to get dinner.”

Seeing you get flustered looking at him made Poe sweat. He stepped away from you and went to his dresser, pulling out a black tee. “Sounds good,” He replied slowly, then glanced back over at you and grinned. “You want me to throw some cold water on you, sweetheart?”

His joking had the desired effect, instantly clearing the tension from the room. You laughed, rolling your eyes. “I’ll be fine, flyboy.”

“I don’t know, I recall a day at the river a long time ago, pulling off my shirt and then you falling out of a tree...”

You scoffed, then stuttered, stepping into Poe’s room, “I-that’s not, I was talking to someone. It wasn’t because of-Uhg!” You flipped him the bird then, unable to form a clear sentence in Basic. Poe was laughing, enjoying the teasing banter as he walked over to his desk and picked up his wrist comm, glancing at the time.

When he looked back up, expecting to see you still laughing shyly, he was surprised to find you frozen, eyes glued onto something over his shoulder. His brows came together in concern, “What’s up?” He looked around, following your sightline.

At first, he was momentarily confused because you were looking at his corkboard. But when his eyes fell to the picture of you, Charlie and him he realized you didn’t know he had it. He’d seen it in your room a while ago and had almost started sobbing on the spot. But you hadn’t come to Poe’s room before this.

Poe turned around to find you with a watery smile, your gaze fixed on him in an intensely affectionate way. “You kept that all these years?” You sounded winded, eyes locked on his. Poe swallowed, nodding, and felt himself blush.

He couldn’t look away if he wanted to.

He didn’t want to, though. He was pretty certain he could remain on this spot in his room as he burned under your gaze for the rest of his life. A million questions formed in his mind and he didn’t know where to start, what to say first.

The silence was broken by the sounds of footsteps in the hall. Pulling both of you out of the moment to look around at Poe’s still open door. Tahla appeared then, breaking into a grin when he saw you both. “Hi! Glad I caught you both, I was hoping to join you for dinner?” He stopped in the doorway politely.

As disappointment washed through him, Poe relaxed his stance and tossed Tahla a grin, “And here (y/n) was asking me to dinner too, I’m more popular than I thought!” You giggled, shaking your head in amusement, but Poe could see you bite your lip when you glanced back at him.

He thought maybe Tahla was giving you both a knowing look, but it slid off his face when you turned to walk out of Poe’s room. Grateful for his lack of comment, Poe clapped Tahla’s shoulder once in step with him in the hallway, and his old friend winked at him in response.

—

34 ABY

Poe knocked on the door of General Organa’s private quarters, repeating the motion desperately until it finally slid open and he burst through, eyes searching until they landed on Leia. She gave him a knowing look like she’d been expecting him. Of course, she was, she knew what was at stake now.

“General,” He glanced around, confirming they were alone. “You know what I know. Please help me.” He didn’t care how desperate he sounded.

Leia sighed, nodding kindly, “Of course I will...but Commander, Poe, it’s not going to be easy. There’s always going to be danger-“

Poe rubbed a hand over his face, “I know, I know but I have to do something. Tell me the safest planet, and then I’ll go to Jakku, I’ll find Lor San Tekka. I’ll complete my mission.”

The General stood, her expression soft, “You won’t be able to-“

Poe shook his head, “I know.” His voice broke.

“Then I know just the place.”

Did you enjoy this chapter? Consider leaving a comment or reblogging to ease my inner turmoil as a writer. I’d love to hear your thoughts!

Taglist

@mermaidxatxheart @foxilayde @eleinemk @paintballkid711 @mylifeisactuallyamess @20th-centu-fairy-girl @deitysnips @cannedsoupsucks @ubri812 @poedameronloverx @hoeforthefictional @astrological-bitch @itsnottilly @itsdameron @alex-sulli @generousrunawaydonut @wildmoonflower @onlyferorder66 @afootnoteinyourhappiness

#reader insert #fanfic #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron #angst #fluff #multichapter #night changes series #friends to lovers #star wars #poe dameron fanfic #poe dameron imagine #poe x reader #poe dameron x female reader #poe dameron smut #oscar isaac

177 notes · View notes

janetbrown711 · 4 years ago

Note

"Wait- where are you going?" Wakko

If Wakko heard another word about that stupid disneyland prince, he was going to scream.

Every since that party he was all Yakko would talk about. Except in the rare moments where Yakko would instead talk about Disneyland and its "fascinating history".

"Wakko, did you know they were in a war just a few years ago? It was between-"

"Max is first in line in his kingdom too, I wonder what that means for-"

"Wakko, did you know their colors are blah blah and blah?"

"Wakko did you know Max has brown eyes-"

"Wakko, Max blah blah blah blah blah-"

Every. Single. Conversation.

Sure, at first it was fun (hilarious, even) to poke fun at Yakko and his newfound crush, to make him act stupid for once. It was also really funny when he teamed up with Dot and forced him to interact.

But now? Now he was confident he was regretting that move with every fiber of his being. It never ended- just "yakyakyakyak" about Max. Hell- Wakko was pretty sure if he ever saw the guy he'd bite his face off just so Yakko would finally stop talking about him.

Wakko tried asking his mom to ask him to stop but she just chuckled and said it's a harmless crush and the yakking about Max will go away eventually.

Weeks passed, and nothing changed.

So, to punish Yakko, Wakko purposefully stopped hanging out with him. If he wanted to talk about his stupid crush he could talk about it with Dad or Dot or someone- ANYONE who wasn't him.

...

Another week passed and it was like Yakko didn't even notice. He never looked for him, never got confused when he suddenly left a room, none of that. At diner, he'd hardly even glance at him. His head was too full of that stupid prince to even notice.

He spent a lot more time with his mom instead, which he didn't hate. He loved cuddling with her or curling up on her lap during a meeting, while she stroked his ears softly. Plus- sometimes she'd actually ask for his input (something Yakko clearly had no interest in as of late). At least he felt useful somewhere...

Oh yeah, and he went to see Doctor Scratchnsniff, but... well... eh? Wakko didn't really like him and how he'd poke at him, and Wakko usually just preferred to cuddle up to his mother while in the office instead of talking. He was weird. Wakko didn't like that.

Be that as it may, Wakko still enjoyed the time he spent with his mother after a year of having her gone, and was happy she was trying her best to make him feel better.

However, all that changed in an instant, when one morning at breakfast his mother announced she and Yakko were taking a trip to Disneyland together, leaving the rest of them behind.

"What? Why?!" Wakko shot up in his chair. Everyone turned, shocked at the sudden outburst.

"It's for diplomatic reasons, Wakko. It's part of my duty as Queen to get acquainted with our allies, and it's important for Yakko to do so too," Lena explained lied to him.

"It's for that stupid prince, isn't it?!" Wakko glared daggers at his older brother.

"Well- i- uh-" He fumbled, which only made Wakko angrier.

"Wakko, please," Lena placed a hand on his shoulder, which he brushed off, jumping down from his chair and running out of the dining room.

Where exactly he was going he didn't know, but he had a feeling no one was going to chase after.

He ran for a very very long time, before realizing he should probably slow down, but before he did he crashed headfirst into none other than Doctor Scratchnsniff and the two of them went crashing down.

"Ahh... Wakko? Are you okay?" The doctor asked, rubbing his head. Wakko looked at him silently, before sniffling and rubbing his head too.

"Something the matter? Is it about Yakko?" He asked. Wakko frowned.

"Ah... I see. It's his trip, ya?" The doctor said, getting up. Wakko growled, staying on the floor.

The doctor sighed. "My doors are always open if you need an ear," he said before leaving. Wakko continued growling until he was out of sight.

He did not like that man.

Eventually, he heard footsteps behind him and he dashed into the nearest room, which was stone and dark and empty. He made sure to lock the door behind him and held a hand over his mouth so no one could hear him breathe.

"Wakko?"

It was his mom.

"Wakko, darling, I don't mean to abandon you... it's just... as queen, there are certain duties I must fulfill that you can't always follow," She said softly.

Wakko remained silent.

"Your brother and I love you very much, you know that, right?" She placed a hand on the door.

She could say what she wanted, but he knew they planned this on purpose. To go see that stupid prince. Ugh.

Eventually, the queen sighed. "We'll be back by tonight. I'll still be able to tuck you in if you want."

He remained silent, stewing.

"I'll see you tonight... I love you," she said, before leaving.

Wakko waited a while in there. It was an overcast day. Not heavy enough to rain, but enough that the room was grey and barely any sunlight was getting through, leaving him cold and mostly in shadow.

Wakko didn't like being alone. In the cold. In the dark. Against the stone flooring. It sent chills down his spine and a heavy feeling in his chest.

It reminded him of the tower.

After a long time, he eventually got up and wandered aimlessly, not knowing what to do without his mother and storming far away from Dot and his father, who were probably doing their own thing by now.

Eventually, he made his way to a familiar doorway. He hated it, he hated it more than anything. It was a reminder of his grandmother- of her cruelty and hatred...

But every so often out of pure painful boredom he'd go and visit it.

Not the actual room- his mother had that locked with a real big lock and key, but just... the base. He'd sit there, and stare at it. Expecting something.

What he expected he didn't know.

Maybe for his grandmother to pop up and drag him back there for Yakko to have to save him again.

Maybe for it to collapse in front of him because of its uselessness.

Maybe for it to open up once more and he can look at the familiar prison once again, and feel... whatever this was some more.

Wakko grumbled and pulled his hat lower as he stared at the door to the entrance.

"You having a staring contest?" The voice of his younger sister caught him off guard.

"Wh-what are you doing here?" He asked, wiping his face. Dot sat next to him.

"Yakko's being dumb lately," She said, curling her knees to her chest. "He keeps talking about that prince."

"I bet he's not even that great. I bet he smells and has a stupid laugh," Wakko huffed.

"I bet he's dumb," Dot agreed.

"Yeah, he is dumb," He crossed his arms, thinking a moment.

"We need to stop them," He said. "Before he separates us from Yakko for good."

Dot blinked. "You really think he's trying to do that?" She asked, the question striking a nerve.

Wakko nodded. "Why else would Yakko not want to hang out? It's just like before... with Her," he seethed. Dot gasped, understanding the gravity of the situation.

"We have to separate them. For Yakko's own good," She said. "But... how? Mom and Dad are on his side," She pointed out.

"We'll have to find our own ways, but with our minds combined, I'm sure we'll figure something out in no time," Wakko said confidently.

"Yeah!" Dot said confidently. "We'll stop him and Yakko will be back in no time."

And so the two then swore an oath that no matter what, they wouldn't let this foreign prince- this Prince Maxamillion- take their brother away from them no matter what it took.

Now all they had to do was think up a plan...

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 The End

#animaniacs #my fics #wakko warner #dot warner #yakko warner #yax #trauma #queen angelina ii #feels #djsafkl;djlfd #sorry this took forever #and that it's short #my brain was dead lmao

113 notes · View notes

socialwriter · 4 years ago

Text

Circles

*Not my gif, credit to original post*

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Female Reader

Summary: You meet the blonde surfer boy you’re meant to spend the rest of your life with

TW: Cursing, my inadequate knowledge of surfing, underage drinking, smoking

1.7K words

A/N: @kindapinkskies and I apparently both love soulmate AUs so I wrote this oops.

Ever since the age of thirteen, you had had the tattoo of a small circle on your hip bone that matched your soulmate's somewhere in the world. Middle school girls would gush over their dream soulmates and the beautiful tattoos that graced their bodies, whereas of course you had no godly idea what your soulmate even looked like and your tattoo was a fucking circle. How lucky were you?

You see, you aren’t able to see any other person’s soulmate tattoo until you grow to love them, whether it be platonic, familial, or romantic. Scientists thought that it was so that everyone would be more experienced in love by the time that they actually met their soulmate. You thought that it was a way to simply torture you with the what ifs and not knowing if the guy who you’d just gone on a miserable date with also had that little circle on hip.

Recently, you and your mother had moved to the Outer Banks, and she was convinced that this would be where your so-called soulmate would find you and you would live happily ever after. You, however, were not convinced. It had already been a week and you had yet to make a friend in town. It's not like you didn’t try, it's just that everyone that you came across was either busy working or a pompous asshole that stuck their nose up at you. So here you were, day 7 of wandering aimlessly around the Outer Banks, hoping that someone would take notice of the lost puppy dog look on your face. No luck, however, so you decided to grab a bite to eat since it was a little bit before noon and your stomach had started grumbling about ten minutes ago.

You decided to stop at a place called ‘The Wreck’. If what you’d heard from casual conversations around the island was true, then your meal here should be at least halfway decent. You enter an almost entirely empty restaurant, given it was just before the lunch rush. You ding the bell at the hostess desk, causing one of the girls in a group of teenagers around your age sitting at the back of the restaurant to stand and approach you. “Hi, welcome to The Wreck. How can I help you?”

You give the girl a small smile, she seemed pretty nice. “I, um, I was just stopping by for a bite to eat. I’m starved.” You tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, suddenly aware of the fact of how sad it was that you were here to eat alone.

“You a touron?” She questions, causing you to give her a very confused look.

“I’m sorry, a who now?”

She chuckles, shaking her head. “That’s what we call the tourists around here. So, you visiting?” She asks. You make an ‘o’ shape with your mouth at her explanation before shaking your head. “No, me and my mom just moved here about a week ago, so I just don’t really know anyone on the island or anything about it.” You explain.

She nods, a smile beginning to grow on her lips. “Well why don’t you hang out with me and my friends.” She gestured over to three guys and a girl sitting in the back, already watching. You send them an awkward wave, which some of them reciprocate. “That would actually be really nice …” You pause, realizing that you didn’t even know this girl’s name.

“Kiara. Carrera. But everyone just calls me Kie.” She informs you, holding out your hand for her to shake.

“Y/n L/n.” You tell her, shaking her hand before she leads you over to her friends.

“Guys, this is Y/n L/n. Y/n, this is Pope, JJ, John B, and Sarah.” She says, introducing each one of her friends, pulling up a chair for you before quickly going to grab you a bite to eat.

You suddenly felt very awkward under the eyes of these four strangers, willing yourself to disappear before Sarah decides to start up a conversation with you. “So, Y/n, did you just move here?” She questions. You appreciate her attempt at small talk.

Nodding, you tell her “Yeah, my mom and I just moved here like a week ago. We used to live on the mainland but she got a job offer we couldn’t refuse, so we moved to the Cut and now here I am.”

“Sweet, you’re a pogue.” One of the boys, you think his name was Pope, said. Before you could question him on what a pogue actually was (you were guessing there was more weird slang that you would have to learn), but before you could, the blonde, JJ you thought, spoke up.

“So you surf?” He questioned, leaning forward. You had to admit, he was pretty attractive, his blonde hair tousled in a perfectly imperfect way and his blue eyes seemingly piercing into your soul. You shake your head, never having the opportunity to learn. You answer seems to disappoint JJ, causing him to deflate and mumble “disappointing” under his breath, which earns him a whack on the back of the head by the third boy, John B. “Be nice.”

Kie then returns with some french fries and a sandwich for you to munch on, and the conversation moves on to something about a boat.

---

After the not so good first impression with JJ, the blonde had apologized to you and insisted that he be the one to teach you how to surf. While his apology seemed genuine, you were still slightly terrified of surfing. However, JJ assured you that it wasn’t nearly as dangerous or terrifying as you thought, and promised to be with you every step of the way.

He taught you how to swim out to the waves, when the perfect time to get up was, and which waves were a no-go for a beginner like you. Eventually, he had convinced you to actually take a spare board that John B had and go into the water, waiting until a wave that you could ride actually came along. He yelled at you from the shore to go for it, giving you a thumbs up and cheering you on while you nervously rode the wave. At the end, you smiled to yourself, loving the pump of adrenaline that came with surfing. You swam back to shore, squealing and pulling JJ into a hug, which he reciprocated with a chuckle. “I did it!!” You exclaimed, excited by your success.

JJ pulled back from the hug, smiling. “Told ya you could, I am the best surfing instructor you’d be able to get after all,” he said with a smirk, causing you to playfully shove his shoulder and roll your eyes. Something about JJ just felt right, like the two of you meshed together. You were two pieces of the same puzzle, and this feeling only continued to grow the closer you got over the coming weeks.

---

Sarah had insisted before your outing on the HSM Pogue the next day that you, her, and Kie have a girls night at her place. So here you were, up at 2 am, talking about nothing before the topic of soulmates inevitably comes up. Sarah tells you that her and John B had had a long love hate relationship before eventually getting together and discovering that they were soulmates. You had figured as much, if the subtle PDA and looks they’d sent each other at The Wreck earlier were anything to off of. Kie, similar to you, hadn’t found her soulmate, but told you that she was actively looking for them like you. “So what does your tatto look like Y/n? Where is it?” Sarah questioned, shifting on her bed which she was currently laying on.

“Oh, mines so stupid. Its a little circle, right here on my hipbone,” you said, pointing at the tattoo that you didn’t even know if they could see yet. At your description, however, the smiles on Kie and Sarah’s faces falter, both girls tensing and glancing at one another. “What, is that like a bad omen or something that I don’t know about?” You question, nervous by their reaction.

Kie awkwardly laughs it off, shaking her head at you. “No,no, its nothing bad. Just, I think you might find out who your soulmate is sooner than later.” She states, causing your brows to furrow. But she drops the subject quickly, and you don’t question her on it for the rest of the night.

---

All six of you were on the HMS Pogue goofing around. After Sarah and Kie had pulled John B and Pope off to the side before getting on the boat, the four had been treating you and JJ a little odd. You just brushed it off, thinking that you were just imagining the change in attitude. You were currently sipping a beer, resting your head on JJ’s shoulder while he smoked some weed. When you had finished, you stood looking at the rest of the group. “Anyone else in the mood for a swim?” You questioned, already pulling off your t-shirt to reveal a bikini underneath.

“Yeah, I’m just gonna dri-” JJ starts, dropping the newly opened beer in his hand when he looks at you. You look at him like he’s crazy, shuffling your feet to avoid them getting covered beer. “JJ, what the fuck!” you groan in annoyance, but he seems to not notice the mess he’s made, eyes fixated on your stomach. Everyone else looked on with knowing expressions, but no one dared say anything.

“Is no one going to clean up this mess but me?” You question, looking at every like they’ve gone insane. JJ moves to pull his shirt off, and you can’t help but roll your eyes. “J, we are not cleaning up the beer with your shirt,” you tell him, giving him a look.

“No, I..” he points to his hip. At the small circle tattoo that matches yours. Your eyes widen, and you look up at him, a silent conversation seemingly happening between the two of you. This boy, the one who you’d grown so close to, who you’d felt so complete with, was your soulmate. Suddenly everything became clearer, like your life had just started making sense. Knowing it was him, provided you with a sense of clarity.

You both slowly approached each other and JJ gingerly grabbed your hand, running him thumb over your knuckles. “Hi.” You said softly, a smile forming on your lips.

“Hi.”

677 notes · View notes

leafs-lover · 4 years ago

Text

Because Two People Got Drunk: 35

Chapter 35

Series Masterlist

A/N: Thank you to the anon who gave a suggestion for this. I honestly hadn’t considered it in the story; but it actually made sense given how little Fred and Y/N had spent talking about it.

Warning: Angst, swearing, mentions of cheating, smut

Word Count: 7100

You are in the lobby of the hockey arena waiting for Oliver. The twins are asleep in their stroller; you gently rocking it back and forth to help them nap. The game ended over twenty minutes ago and Fred went to the change room to help get him out of his hockey equipment.

It’s been a couple weeks since Fred’s injury; he has been home for most of it. When at the rink he has been spending his time with trainers off the ice. That was until yesterday, he managed to do a short session with the goalie coach and some basic drills but likely won’t be back until after Christmas.

You know it’s been hard for him, since that game the team fell into a slump. They have won a few games in regulation, but overall the team is struggling being outplayed and outscored. The hardest part for him is feeling completely helpless because he is sidelined.

As he started to improve he was able to spend more time with the kids; and Oliver has been loving getting all the cuddles from Fred. Today Fred decided to join you at Oliver’s hockey game.

You were a little unsure of the idea, not wanting it to be too much for him, but he reassured you he would be fine; and once Oliver heard you knew there was no way Fred wouldn’t come. After helping Oliver get in his equipment Fred told you he was beaming in the change room; his smile never fading, introducing Fred to everyone though he has already met them earlier in the season.

You look down at your watch; it’s almost 10:45, your stomach growling loudly. You ate breakfast at seven, but around now you normally would have a snack but forgot to pack something. The little baby in your belly really making the eating for two seem like a reality right now. Finally you see Fred leave the change room carrying Oliver’s hockey bag in one hand and holding his hand with his other.

Your son is practically skipping as he makes his way down the hall. As soon as he sees you he releases Fred’s hand and takes off running to you “Mommy!”

You catch him mid jump “good game buddy!” you say squeezing him.

“Did you see me?”

“Yeah you were great” you reply “you played awesome. Looked like your daddy in net” you say and he smiles at your words. The biggest compliment for him is being compared to his hero.

“Where is your dad?” you ask him realizing Fred hasn’t made his way to you.

“People wanted his picture” Oliver shrugs confused.

“Yeah people are excited to see him” you respond scanning around the hockey arena.

As soon as you sat down there was whispers and a couple kids came up asking for pictures. It’s something you have learned to get used to over the past few years.

Fred is always willing to take pictures with fans, especially kids. Every time he apologizes even though you have told him countless times you don’t mind. You love how he interacts with fans, and how taking a few minutes makes their day. While you understand how important fan engagement is, Oliver doesn’t understand the hype around it. To him Fred and all the other players are just people, normal people he knows.

“Did you see my save? The one I stopped with my stick” you hear Oliver ask and you dive into a conversation with your son about his game.

Your eyes find Fred standing with a woman and her son, who is Oliver’s age. You engage in the conversation with your son but can help and notice the large smile on her face, how her dark brown hair shines under the lights. While it’s not uncommon for Fred to talk to the parents of young fans, you notice how close she is standing and how her child doesn’t seem interested in him at all.

You gently set Oliver on the ground while the two of them continue to chat away. You drop random “uh huh” or an “oh really” but you lose all focus when you watch her hand touch his bicep while they laugh at something he said.

You swallow a lump in your throat and take a deep breath but it doesn’t stop you from feeling like the walls are shattering around you. You hear Oliver babbling away but his voice continues to fade away into the background. Your stomach almost jumps into your throat and your chest tightens. You tell yourself it’s nothing, that you don’t be concerned. And you almost believe it, that is until you watch her stroke up his arm.

“Mommy” Oliver pulls on your sleeve and grabbing your attention.

“Yeah bud” you say snapping your eyes down to his.

“I said I’m thirsty” he repeats.

“Oh” you reply with a shaky voice. You fumble into your bag and pull out your water bottle handing it to him. When you look back to where Fred was you notice he is gone and you turn your attention back to Oliver

Finally you feel the familiar touch of Fred’s hand on your back and he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. Your entire body stiffens against his touch, you reach down to take the bottle back from Oliver to hide the real reason you pulled away.

“Ready?” he asks taking the stroller from you, while you take Oliver's hand as he skips in excitement. The drive is filled with Oliver’s excited chatter from the back seat, you stare out the window not having much to say.

Fred’s hand reaches across the car finding your stomach, slowly rubbing over your bump. You relax into the seat, Fred chuckling while Oliver rambles on about his friends on his team. You replay the scene from the arena over and over in your head, you remember she was in the stands; her son having played against Oliver. But did she look towards Fred, did his eyes wander?

“Can I mom?” Oliver calls out and Fred gently nudges you with his hand.

“Hmm what was that?” you ask being brought back from your trance.

You feel Fred glare at you from the side of his eye “Kyle said I could have a sleepover at his house” he repeats “can I?”

You chuckle slightly knowing this is one of his friends on the team, after every game or practice he always has something funny to tell you that Kyle said or did. “I’ll have to talk to his parents” you respond.

“Yeah talk to them mommy” he cheers and Fred laughs shaking his head.

“We will but not today, we have the party this afternoon” Fred says pulling into your driveway.

As soon as the car is in park Oliver jumps out the car “when’s the party daddy?”

“In a couple hours” he says grabbing Noah “after lunch.”

Oliver runs into the house leaving his boots and coat in a pile on the floor and making his way to the living room. You take the twins and follow him while Fred takes his hockey equipment to air out. You have a relaxing afternoon, Oliver plays with his Lego and various toys, the twins nap and play on their activity mat. You rest on the couch scrolling through your phone aimlessly.

Multiple times over the next few hours you feel Fred’s eyes find you. His eyes are soft but full of concern. He can sense something is wrong, but he also doesn’t know if it’s just the pregnancy dragging you down today. Instead of asking he gives you time in case you are just tired, thinking maybe you just need some time to rest.

“The boys are cute” Kathy says giving you a hug while you stand at the snack table. You laugh lightly seeing the twins in plaid shirts and vests, one of them held in Fred’s arm while Oliver immediately took off to find his friends. You didn’t dress them, Fred actually had their coats on before you came downstairs so you had no idea all your boys were matching until you got here.

He bounces them in his arms and shoots you a smile when he catches you staring. He aims them towards you and their green eyes light up when they see you. A half smile crosses your face, but Fred senses the emptiness behind it and a scowl crosses his. You look away with a displeased groan grabbing a cup.

“How are you doing?” she asks as you pour some water.

“We’ve been good; now that Fred’s symptoms are mostly gone it’s been better. Oliver loves having him around though” you respond taking a sip.

“That’s great but I asked how you are. Seems like something is going on” she says softly. “Having him at home the past few weeks should be good. You two are almost nauseating to watch sometimes. You came in after him, and haven’t spent a second beside him and don’t think I didn’t see whatever that was” her index finger pointing between the two of you.

You laugh a little and turn towards her “we’re fine” you lie.

You hear her groans as she grips your hand pulling you down the hall to the bathroom, locking the door behind you. “Spill.”

You roll your eyes and back up against the counter. Anyone else wouldn’t have given you a second glance, some would have bought your fake smiles and those that didn’t would have assumed it was hormones or exhaustion from the pregnancy. But not Kathy; she knows you too well.

You start by telling her how it’s nothing and how you are overreacting; that you are likely reading too far into it. You get into the woman at Oliver’s hockey game, how they seemed to be really close, too close. You tell her how when he said something she touched his arm and gently grazed over his muscles.

You ramble for twenty minutes and at the end finish by saying how you have no idea what they talked about. It could have been about him donating time or merchandise for a charity event; that they were so far away you couldn’t hear anything.

You expect her to tell you you’re overthinking it. That it could have been nothing, or maybe she was trying to flirt with him but that doesn’t mean anything. That you can’t get upset over what strangers do. That just because she flirted with Fred it doesn’t mean he flirted back.

Instead she takes a deep breath and walks over to you, wrapping her arms around you. She holds you for a few minutes saying nothing. The silence is deafening; you swear you feel the walls closing in around you before you finally speak.

“During the playoffs last year when I was pregnant Fred kissed someone else.”

You can tell by her silence and that her eyes not meeting yours that she already knew that.

You thought saying those words would be liberating; finally telling someone what he did. Instead you feel yourself fall apart, sobbing into her shoulder. Your hands tighten around her back, clenching on the fabric of her sweater. Your body shakes against hers; warm tears staining her shirt.

Her hands gently run up and down your back; soothing you. You grip her shirt tighter, swallowing the lump in your throat until your eyes begin to dry.

“Sounds like you and him have some stuff to talk about.”

You thought this had been left in the past, you had accepted and processed it and dealt with all your emotions. But now after watching what should have been a harmless interaction you realize you have some unresolved feelings and paranoia. Likely because you never had a dedicated conversation about everything that happened.

You basically shut Fred out for days while you processed everything. You wanted to calm down and think over everything; make sure you didn’t say something you would regret. Once you had your time you were going to invite Fred to share your bed again and begin to have the conversations needed to move on.

Then the car accident happened. Fred tried to talk with you after but at that point it didn’t seem important to you. You had long decided you were going to forgive him, and with everything that happened focusing on your recovery and the twins seemed more important than tearing open old wounds.

You and Fred should have sat down; even for a brief conversation. What happened today should have been nothing, it shouldn’t have triggered you the way it did. Fred didn’t do anything besides stop to take a picture with a child; this woman decided to touch him. And he was at your side in under a minute of that happening, making it pretty obvious he got away as quick as possible. If your trust hadn’t of become fractured seven months ago you wouldn’t be in your head right now.

Once you return to the party you feel Fred’s eyes immediately find you. He can see the redness in your eyes and the puffiness of your cheeks. He knows you have been crying, but what makes it worse is you are blocking him out. You can feel the pleading of his eyes, but you can’t bring yourself to make eye contact.

He watches while you get a snack, while you chat with some of the women. He smiles watching you and Oliver decorate stockings, part of the Christmas crafts the team has set up. He laughs watching when Oliver shakes his, spilling the excessive amount of glitter onto your lap. To everyone else you seem happy, like you are having a great night.

You feel his eyes burning a hole in you and eventually find his gaze, his entire face lights up; he thinks maybe he was right, maybe the pregnancy is just tiring you out. But Fred sees the emptiness behind your eyes, the hollowness in the half smile. You swear you hear his heart fall as you pull your eyes from him.

“You ready for Santa” you ask walking up beside Fred a few moments later; bouncing the twins in your arms. They coo in response having no idea what you are saying. But Oliver who is clinging to Fred’s neck cheers in response.

“When is Santa coming daddy?” he asks eyes lighting up.

“I heard that his sleigh landed on the roof a few minutes ago” he says and you watch as Oliver’s eyes go wide. You hear some jingling of bells and Oliver drops down eagerly running to the group of children. The entire room erupts as he walks in, but Fred places a hand on the small of your back pulling you into his chest.

“You okay?” he asks softly leaning close to your ear.

You give him a small nod in response, his breath on your neck would normally ignite your core, send a dampness between your legs but today it doesn’t. Today it irritates you but Fred doesn’t stop trying to break your walls down.

“Don’t lie to me” he says pulls Lucas from you, his hand resting gently on your hip as he places a soft kiss on your temple.

“It’s nothing” you lie shifting on your feet to pull away from him ever so slightly.

“Are we seriously going to play this game (Y/N)” he groans. “Just tell me.”

“Not here” you hiss in response.

“So it is something” he says.

“Yes” you retort. As you begin to walk away you hear Fred sigh loudly but he uses his better judgement and doesn’t follow you.

He joins you for a family picture with Santa, and even asks Sid to take the twins so the two of you can get a picture just the two of you. Apart from that he gives you space while also remaining close.

You can tell he is bothered he comes up beside you a couple times and tries to talk to you, but each time his mouth falls shut and he saunters off. He has no idea what he did, and how could he? How could he know you’re actually bothered by something that happened months ago?

After buckling everyone in the car Fred climbs out of the back, you place your bags and coats on the floor before closing the door. When you turn around Fred is waiting off to the side. He opens your door for you but instead of getting in you walk into his chest.

After the immediate shock Fred’s arms wrap around you. You feel the tears prick the sides of your eyes, but you sniffle them away. He feels your body gently heave and tightens his grip around you, holding you close; his body keeping you sheltered from the crisp Pittsburgh air.

You sigh against him and pull away, wordlessly climbing into the car. Fred gently shuts the door and gets in the driver’s side, you can tell he is confused but he says nothing starting the drive home. It’s a silent drive, you staring out the passenger window, Fred turns the volume of the radio down until it’s almost inaudible, you don’t need to turn around to see that all your sons have fallen asleep.

Once home you carefully take Oliver to bed and tuck him while Fred does the same with the twins. You change into some pyjamas and begin your night routine. At some point Fred comes in the bathroom to brush his teeth. Normally he would wait in the bathroom for you, his hand resting on your bump, groaning when you reach for another product instead of being done and ready for bed. You would shoot him a playful smirk and he would resume his post patiently waiting for you finish.

But not tonight, tonight he leaves once he is done; letting you finish your routine alone. You wash your face, brush out your hair and pull it into a loose bun on the top of your head. When you are finally done you find Fred sitting on the end of the bed waiting for you.

“Hey” he says seeing you nervously playing with his hands

“Hey” you reply shooting him a soft smile. You sit beside him curling your legs up on the mattress.

“What’s going on?” he chuckles awkwardly.” I replayed today through my head a million times from every angle and I have no idea what I did” he huffs. “We had coffee in bed before the boys woke up and it was great. We had breakfast and got ready for hockey everything was great until the party. Something shifted and I don’t know what. Did I leave some dishes in the sink or some socks on the floor? Did I say something stupid, like what did I do?”

“Nothing” you whisper.

“No don’t say nothing. Something is wrong so tell me. What did I do wrong?” he shifts closer to you and rests his hand on your ankle. You see the pleading in his eyes as he gently lifts your chin.

“You didn’t do anything” you repeat, Fred shaking his head running his hand through his hair frustrated at your response. You grip his hand and bring it back down to the bed “you didn’t do anything…today.”

“What does that mean?” he scoffs.

“After the game when you were walking back to the lobby you were stopped for pictures and what not by some people” he nods slightly. “Well a woman came up to you, dark hair.”

“Yeah her son wanted a picture” he explains.

“Right well I saw that, but then the two of you talked for a couple minutes. She was standing really close and I saw her touch your arm, and I don’t know it made me jealous or something.”

“Babe I didn’t want anything to do with her, I basically ran back to you right after that. I mean she’s not my type you don’t have to worry” he replies.

“Wait I don’t have to worry because she isn’t your type” you rise to your feet walking away.

“That’s not what I meant, they are two separate statements” you hear the sound of his footsteps getting closer. “Even if she was my type you wouldn’t have to worry, you’re it for me babe” he comes up resting his hands on your hip his voice low and in your ear. “You’re the only one I have eyes for. Nobody else elske.”

“But that hasn’t always been the case” you say pushing his hands off your hips. “I mean seven months ago you kissed someone else.”

You hear him sigh behind you and you take a large gulp. You turn around to face him seeing regret fill his face. His face falls and you blink through your pain before continuing “seeing that today bothered me and I know it shouldn’t. I knew nothing happened but it really bothered me. Eight months ago it wouldn’t have, but after finding out about you…I…I don’t know” you shake the image from your head, trying to compose yourself.

Fred walks over to you and wraps his arms around you “I get it babe” he sighs .

“I guess I thought I was fine. That I was over it, it didn’t bother me. But it does bother me” you say choking on some sobs. Fred tightens his grip on you, completely engulfing you in his arms while you begin to sob against his chest. You clench his t-shirt while warm tears roll down your cheeks.

“Let’s talk about it then. Whenever you’re ready, and as much as you need” he says hands finding the back of your neck to hold you tight against him.

“I want to” you take a deep breath and wipe the side of your eye “now.”

You walk over to the bed and sit down crossing your legs, Fred joins sitting a few feet from you waiting for you to start. You sit in silence for a few minutes trying to find the words, not knowing where to start.

“I know you love me” you grab his hands in yours. “I know you would do anything for me, our family. But it’s not easy. We only got together because I got pregnant, if I didn’t I don’t think we’d be here.”

As you talk you watch his facial expression change; he stares at you like you’re crazy. Like he has no idea where that is coming from; because he never felt that way and doesn’t want you to. And it something that has been mentioned a few times, and you know it irritates him when anyone thinks that way. But it kills his to think you believe it.

“I don’t think that’s true babe. I mean yeah that brought us together, but we took our time. We built this right and we wouldn’t be here after all this time if we only were together because of you getting pregnant. It was almost two years after we got pregnant that we finally figured out or feelings and got together. If we were only together because of Ollie we would have been together from the start and it likely wouldn’t have been so hard. We both wouldn’t have gotten hurt so much in the process.”

“Okay but I get insecure because of that, and women constantly throw themselves at you which doesn’t help. But I was able to ignore it befre, let it all become background noise until you kissed someone. Now I see someone flirt with you and I can’t help but be jealous” you say through foggy eyes.

“I know I’m not always easy to be with” he shifts to be closer to you, pulling you into his lap “but I love you so much.”

“I never doubted that” you whine against his chest looking down in your lap. You nervously pick at your nails, trying to avoid eye contact “I just. I don’t know, I don’t know what I’m saying or what I want.”

Silence fills the air and you sense his hesitation “do you still want me, to be with me?”

“What” your head snaps up finding his dark eyes glazed with tears “of course I do.”

“Still want to marry me” he whispers afraid of the answer.

“Yes Frederik of course I do.”

“Do you want me to go to a hotel, give you some time –“

“No Fred I don’t want that” you almost snap at his questions. “I just need you to know that what you did hurt, and sometimes it still bothers me. The last time you cheated on me I was pregnant, and I’m pregnant again now so it’s hard. It’s hard because I want to trust it won’t happen again and I do trust it; until something happens and I doubt everything.”

You hear him mumble a fuck against your hair finally putting together your struggles. You practically hear the wheels stop turning as he finally has connected all the dots that led to your pain. It’s not that you are worried about him cheating, you are worried the stress of the pregnancy will get to him and it will happen again.

His hand rests on your waist, hesitantly finding its way onto your bump. You hear Fred sniffle as some tears land in your hair. The past 12 weeks you have had fears of Fred cheating on you again, dreams of that day and thanks to your pregnancy they have been vivid.

In some dreams it’s almost like you are replaying that day, you get sent a picture. Another dream or more like nightmare is you walking in to your bedroom and he is in bed buried deep inside another woman. You know these are just dreams but it doesn’t help your anxiety.

He runs his hand up and down your arm while you soak his shirt with your tears. He continues to try to soothe you but his attempts fail and you begin to sob uncontrollably. He holds you tight, you don’t even know for how long.

Finally your body relaxes and the tears in your eyes have dried, bottom lip stopped trembling. Your vision is still slightly blurred but you tilt your head to look at Fred showing your puffy cheeks. His face is wrecked with emotion; eyes wet with his own tears.

“I hate when you cry, but it’s so much worse when I’m the cause of it” he says laughing through his tears. You bring your thumb up to wipe his away, he gently rests his cheek against your palm.

“I love seeing you pregnant, I always have. There is something about seeing the woman I love carry my baby; words can’t even describe the feeling” you smile slightly at his words. “And I am so sorry I took what should be an amazing beautiful time” his hand lands on your stomach and he softly strokes over it “and put seeds of doubt into it. But tell me what you need to make this better. Whether it’s a night away, or a puppy or if you need to hit me whatever it is lets do it.”

“I don’t need or want to hit you” you laugh slightly. “And a puppy would be way too much work right now.” Fred’s lips gently land on your forehead as he rocks you back and forth. You relax into his touch bringing your hand through his beard and onto his chest. “I don’t know if there is any one thing; if the situation was reversed and I kissed someone do you think there is one thing that could fix it?”

He doesn’t respond. You don’t know if it’s because he doesn’t know or doesn’t want to say it; not that you were expecting a response.

“Honestly I’m drained; me and the baby just want to curl up under the blankets and get some sleep” you sigh.

“Okay” he whispers pulling his hands away from you.

Your body is weak as you crawl out his lap; slipping under the cold sheets. Fred sits at the bottom of the bed not sure if you want him to join. You fold the blanket on his side down and tap the empty space and he quickly fills it, not needing to be told twice.

He lies on his back not bothering to pull the blankets up his body. His gaze locks on your ceiling, but you can see his pupils shifting as he replays the conversation; or maybe that night eight months ago. You slide closer to Fred and rest your hand on his chest, using his bicep as a pillow.

His hand lands on your back and he pulls you in close, almost as if he’s afraid he’ll lose you. You can feel the tension exuding off of him and can hear his uneasy breathing. After the night you had you are mentally exhausted and practically fall asleep instantly, though you know Fred will be awake for hours.

The next morning you wake up on your side facing away from Fred, some of the morning light beginning to trickle through your blinds. You don’t need to look at your clock to know you are earlier than normal; the kids likely sleeping for another 45 minutes.

You roll over and Fred is staring at the ceiling the same position you left him in last night. The bags under his eyes and red in his pupils telling you he didn’t sleep well. While you were emotionally drained and fell asleep relatively easily, you felt Fred tossing and turning beside you which woke you up multiple times.

“Hey” he whispers a faint smile finding his face when he sees you. “How’d you sleep?”

Shifting in your sheets, you embrace the exhaustion carried over from the night before. Normally you would try to fall back asleep until the twins cried over the monitor or you hear Oliver footsteps running down the hall towards your room.

“Okay” you yawn. Fred smiles lightly brushing your hair from your forehead.

“Not sleep good?” you ask, he shakes his head in response.

“How could I?” he sighs turning his gaze back to the ceiling.

“Sorry” you whisper.

“No you don’t have anything to apologize for. I fucked up and your feelings are valid”

“I kind of feel better, I think maybe I just had to get it all out. Tell you how I was feeling” you say crawling over to him. It’s not a lie, you didn’t necessarily need anything to happen or for Fred to do anything He just needed to know how you felt, be aware of the problem. Maybe if you hadn’t brushed it under the rug many months ago your feelings would be resolved.

“I’m glad” he responds his lips hesitantly press to your forehead. You melt into his touch, your hand sliding up his shirt feeling his warm skin under your nails. You tilt your head gently pressing your lips to Fred’s.

You can sense his hesitation as you crawl on him sinking into the kiss. You know he can taste your morning breath but he doesn’t care, opening his mouth to allow you entrance. His lips are slightly chapped like usual as your tongue swipes along his lower lip; he moans when you suck on his lower lip pulling it back slightly.

His hands tentatively find your hips holding you on his stomach. Your tongue slides inside his mouth, your hand finding his rough beard and gently rakes through it. Your mouths move in sync with one another, his hands slowly begin to wander around to the back of your thighs before returning to your hips. You gently grind down on him, feeling his tip separated by some thin fabric between your cheeks. After a few minutes Fred pulls away leaving the two of you gasping for air.

“I’m sorry I made you feel like this. I never want you to be insecure, especially because of me” he whispers. He gently pushes you onto your back, him resting on his side. “You’re it for me, my other half; my better half. You complete me and I never want you to worry. No other girl has a shot with me” his mouth attaches to your neck peppering you with soft kisses.

“You are the only girl I want to curl up beside after a game. The only girl who will make me watch the Notebook only to turn it off with 15 minutes left because it’s too sad to finish.” You roll your eyes at that but can’t help a grin from crossing your face.

He crawls on top of you; your hands stroking along his biceps. “You’re the only girl I want stealing my sweaters, the only girl I want to kiss” he briefly presses his lips to yours. His knee gently finds a spot between your legs spreading them open a couple inches.

You moan ever so lightly you aren’t even sure Fred heard it until he smirks against your lips. “You’re the only girl I want to make those sounds come out of.” You clear your throat and bite your bottom lip as Fred’s mouth presses to the side of your neck. Your eyelashes kiss your cheek your body squirming while wetness begins to pool in your core.

“You’re the only girl I want to touch” he gently presses a kiss to your jaw bone, a finger trailing down your arm. “The only girl I want to taste” he licks along your collarbone. He places warm open mouth kisses on your collarbone finding its way to your sweet spot.

A light giggle falls from your lips as his mustache tickles your ear. You know Fred is enjoying this but he won’t touch you further until you allow it.

“Freddie” you moan and feel him smirk against your neck.

“Yes smuk” he mumbles against your skin as goosebumps begin to form.

“I need you” you moan out softly. Before you even finish getting the words out your shirt is off, his large hands finding your breasts, easily cupping them in his palm. His movements are soft and gentle as he waits for your response.

He massages your breast in one hand; gently rolling the nipple through his finger. You gasp at the feeling, them being slightly sensitive from the pregnancy. Fred eases his touch but doesn’t pull away; his mouth dipping down to suck on your other breast.

Your back arches in response soft moans escaping your lips. You expect him to continue down your body but he continues to work on your breasts for a few more minutes. You feel your cunt dripping your hands finding his hair. Instead of tangling your fingers in his hair you try to push his large frame down further and earn a deep seeded chuckle from him.

“Someone’s eager” he mumbles against you; soft curse words fall from your lips. His hand slides down your body slipping inside your pyjama pants. His fingers graze over your folds coating them in your juices. He smirks against your breast “very eager eh” he jokes feeling your wetness.

His large hands easily push your pants down your legs, they bunch just below your knees. He continues to suck on your breast while his hand caresses up the back of your thigh. He gives your ass a squeeze, pulling your body down the bed until your pussy finds his thigh.

He flexes his muscular thigh, your pussy trembling on him. You begin to slowly roll your hips in search of more friction. Fred lets out a soft moan at the feeling of his muscles pressing against your throbbing clit.

His hands find your hip, rough fingers digging in, encouraging the motion of your hips. His lips still wrapped around one of your hardened nipples. Breathy whimpers leaving your mouth as you grind your hips against him; earning a few low groans from him. Your moans turn to whimpers needing more contact.

“Fred please” you whine voice thick with need and desperation.

He releases his mouth from your breast and slowly trails down your body. When he reaches your pelvis he sucks hard likely leaving a mark; his nails digging into your hips. He hooks your legs over his shoulders his mouth places soft kisses on the inside of your thighs.

His arms wrap around your waist, pinning you to the bed as he bites up your thigh. Your head falls into the pillow and your eyes rolling into the back of your head. Even though he has barely touched you the anticipation almost has you going over the edge.

You gasp when his lips finally attach to your clit, placing some soft kisses on your folds. He pulls back, lips ghosting barely a centimeter from your skin causing your hips to buck up. Fred flattens his tongue and licks a stripe up; a dark groan leaves Fred’s throat tasting your wetness. Your back begins to arch but his grip tightens holding you to the bed.

His tongue slowly slips inside your walls and your hands tangle into his messy locks, gripping tight to the scalp as his tongue moves in and out of you. Your thighs tighten around his head, Fred groaning under you. His nose presses into your clit as whispered curse words fall from yours.

He flicks his tongue inside you, curling in your walls. His teeth gently graze your folds; you breathe out a fuck as the coil in your abdomen gets painfully tight. You aren’t sure if Fred heard you or if he can sense it, until you hear him hum in response.

You tremble knowing you are hanging on the edge, “I’m gonna cum” you manage to pant out. You feel Fred smirk below you but he doesn’t let up, continuing to fuck his tongue in and out of you.

Your eyes squeeze shut as the coil inside you snaps; your orgasm washing over you. Fred works you through your high groaning as you flutter around his mouth. An incoherent noise leaves your lips the heels of your feet digging into his back. Finally you come down from your high Fred’s tongue slowing. You are breathless as your eyes flutter open looking down to meet Fred’s gaze. His mouth releases your swollen bud and he drops your legs; pulling your pyjamas back up your legs.

He slowly crawls up your body, your juices dripping from his beard. He places a trail of soft kisses up your chest. Your hands release his hair sliding down to his beard pulling his face to yours. You guide his mouth to yours moaning when you taste yourself.

His tongue slides in but before you can deepen it you hear a cry over the baby monitor. You pull apart with a groan; Fred’s head turning to the screen.

“I think he’s still asleep” Fred says after a couple minutes “got a couple more minutes” he mumbles against your neck. He falls beside you pulling you into his chest while your head turns to look at him. He softly brushes your sweaty hair from your forehead.

“I’m sorry for yesterday” he says softly “and more importantly seven months ago.”

“I know” your lips gently press against his.

“If something bothers you please tell me” he says and you smile lightly in response. “And if you need to talk about what happened more, bring it up. No matter what.”

“I will, promise” you smile

“No matter how uncomfortable it’s better for us to talk these things through now then let them stew inside.”

“I know” you nod against him. Fred smiles down at you and brings his lips back down to yours. You gently play with the baby hairs on the nape of his neck. The kiss is soft and slow; his tongue swiping inside your mouth. When you pull away Fred’s forehead gently presses against yours.

Your hands gently play with his beard, a wide grin glued to your face. Fred crawls beside you his hand finds your stomach “any movements yet?”

“I’m only 13ish weeks babe” you laugh “that probably won’t happen for another five weeks or so.”

“I know I just love the little kicks” he places another soft kiss on your cheek when you hear another cry from the nursery.

“I got it babe” he whispers crawling out of bed. When the door closes you find your shirt knowing your time in bed will be ending soon. You hear the nursery door open on the monitor, and your gaze meets the screen. You feel your heart skip a beat watching Fred.

He pulls Noah from his crib, blowing a raspberry on his stomach. Noah’s little laugh is loud enough you can almost hear it down the hall.

He engages in a random conversation with him while changing his diaper and getting him ready for the day. Before he finishes Lucas stirs in his crib and Fred turns his attention to him repeating everything with him. After finishing he leaves the nursery and you hear his footsteps on the hardwood and the door slowly creaks open.

The twins faces light up when they see you and Fred crawls back into bed handing Noah to you. “Hi buddy” you smile pressing a kiss to his cheek. The four of you lie in bed, Noah babbling away on your stomach; Fred’s arms wrapped around the two of you.

You all lie in bed, you curled up beside Fred the twins crawling over you. You and Fred fall into an easy conversation the twins cooing around you. Lucas is sitting on Fred’s chest and you laugh when Noah sits on his face. It’s an easy morning; something you didn’t get when Oliver was this young. When he was around this age you and Fred were in separate apartments. It was during the span when you weren’t sleeping together; and your interactions were sometimes awkward.

You grab Lucas from Fred’s chest and Fred grips Noah’s waist lifting him off his face. He puts him on the mattress and begins to tickle your son, his little laugh erupting. His laughter echoes off the wall getting louder; it’s so loud you almost don’t hear the door creak open. You look over and see Oliver yawning in the doorway, rubbing his eyes. He slowly climbs up in bed beside you.

A large grin spread across you face watching as Fred wrestles Oliver into the bed and tickles the boys. Their laughter fills your bedroom and your heart watching your four boys. You rub your hand over your stomach smiling, knowing soon there will be another baby making your king sized bed seem even more crowded; just the way you like it.

Next Chapter

#because two people got drunk #frederik andersen #Freddie Andersen #fred andersen #frederik andersen x reader #frederik andersen fic #frederik andersen smut #freddie andersen smut #freddie andersen fic #freddie andersen x reader #fred andersen smut #fred andersen x reader #Fred Andersen Fic #nhl fic #NHL Smut

50 notes · View notes

dadsbongos · 4 years ago

Text

Brother’s Keeper

Movie/Game/Show: The Boy Dynamic: Brahms Heelshire/Reader (Platonic) Warnings: idk The Veldt spoilers if you’ve never read it (it’s really fucking good), the parents suck and they’re emotionally manipulative Summary: Brahms likes to play with his baby sister. ~~~

“What a pouty little face you have,” Mrs. Heelshire pinched at her daughter’s cheeks, stretching them upward, “Come on, let me see a smile.”

(Y/n) swatted at her mother’s hands, “I don’t want to.”

Brahms adjusted his tie as best he could for the family picture, letting his father take over after a minute of fumbling, “She’s not going to smile; little brat.”

“Hey!” the three-year-old girl whined, lips pulling into an even deeper pout, “You can’t be mean and the birthday boy at the same time, it’s not fair!”

The boy rolled his eyes, “You’re just upset your birthday isn't for five more months.”

“I’m seven, I’m too old for dolls,” (Y/n) muttered, not wanting to mention why exactly she didn’t want the porcelain doll, “Besides, he’s too fragile, if I drop him he’ll die.”

Death was a new fascination with the young girl after the incident. Though, to be fair, most fascinations didn’t last four years nor did they start with the horrific death of your older brother.

“Nonsense,” her father grinned, taking the doll from his wife and holding it out to his young daughter, “he was Brahms’ favorite.”

Brahms was a word that had become similar to “fuck” in the parents’ minds. Off-limits by the punishment of spanking or grounding unless you were one of them.

“Oh,” she murmured, carefully taking the toy and holding it to her side, “I never saw him play with it…”

“Too scared to break the poor thing,” Mrs. Heelshire reasoned easily enough, “Named after him.”

(Y/n) looked at the glassy object, “Why do I need to have him?”

“You’re going to take care of him, Brahms would want you to,” Mr. Heelshire brushed the girl’s hair from her forehead before leaving a small kiss to the patch of skin, “Be good to him, sweetheart, won’t you?”

Mrs. Heelshire nodded from behind her husband, “You wouldn’t want to disappoint Brahms, would you?”

She glanced between her pleading parents and the doll, pursing her lips before hesitantly nodding, “Alright, I guess…”

By the time 1999 rolled around and the only living Heelshire child was to turn eleven, there were no more friends to play in the house with. Emily, who in many ways had been an older sister to the girl, was murdered by some sick monster who lit the playhouse she was inside on fire. Well, maybe the killer didn’t light the playhouse on fire.

“You’re three, how are you going to take it from me?”

Instead, (Y/n) was left to play with her doll. With a party hat on her head, courtesy of the new grocery boy, Malcolm, she wandered aimlessly through the halls. Birthdays were no longer a celebration in the manor; unless it was Brahms’, of course. She held the doll to her hip, looking at the series of paintings decorating the wall; most of them portraying her big brother.

She frowned, settling a hand on the wall just below the largest mural in the hall. Her fingers brushed upon a small crevice dip in the split of colors in the striped wallpaper, brows furrowing at the ledge. She curled her fingers around it, beginning to pull when suddenly it popped apart from the wall. A panel opening up in the middle of the hallway, she looked down each end before climbing through.

Her eyes adjusted quickly enough, arms squeezing Brahms tighter to her form. She began creeping down the secret passageway, not noticing the sounds of her parents screaming her name.

A sudden turn and she took it. A curve in the path and she rounded it. Losing herself in the hidden walkways within her home. It was only when she realized how lost she was that panic settled in, “Mama…?”

She held Brahms even tighter, freehand leaving the doll to bang on the interior of the wall, “Papa! Mama?!”

It was half an hour before the panicking parents found their weeping little girl hidden behind a panel close to the fireplace. She was crying into the sweater on her doll, cheeks heated in the force of her tears. Not even Mr. Heelshire’s gentle hugging and cooing could relieve her of the emotional aches.

“You’re to never go in those walls again, do you hear me?” her mother grit through clenched teeth.

Never? As much as (Y/n) wanted to be on board with the idea, she wasn’t sure about never being able to go in again. Maybe… maybe she just had to be older, more mature - yeah - that sounded about right.

“Just once more,” she immediately calmed down, now speaking through a raspy, whiny post-crying voice, “I won’t get lost this time, I promise.”

Mr. Heelshire looked over to his wife, “Just one more couldn’t hurt, she should learn about the walls, shouldn’t she?”

As soon as the words left her husband’s lips, Mrs. Heelshire shook her head, “Not a chance. Haven’t you read The Veldt? That’s how the parents die.”

(Y/n)’s eyes widened, glancing between her parents as tears began springing into the surface, “You guys will die if I go in the walls again?”

Neither parent confirmed it, though they didn’t deny it either, before sending her off to bed with Brahms. Leaving her to question what the walls were in the dark solitude of her lavish bedroom; empty winnings for a girl who felt guilty enjoying them.

By fifteen, there was an influx of nannies coming in and out of the Heelshire home to care for a supposedly haunted doll. She wasn’t sure if she believed it but the messes and thumping and flickering lights were beginning to be too much to ignore. They all started after the wall incident - the second incident she could add to her fault - and she was forbidden from going back inside.

Panels were left open and soft, high-pitched whines ringing from behind them; it was more terrifying than alluring.

With no more Brahms by her side, in the real body or in doll form, (Y/n) was left to wander aimlessly down the halls thinking about how unfair it was of her parents to rip the doll away from her. All due to the walls’ tunnels.

They handed her a memento to her older brother - they used her guilt; her fault against her - just to steal it away eight years later. She hated her parents for it, no, not her parents. Her mother. Mrs. Heelshire barely even let the nannies do their job half the time, she just wanted Brahms all to herself. She gave that doll a surplus of her attention and countless replacement caretakers and never even gave (Y/n) the acknowledgment of their shared grief.

Barely gave her the mind to say, “It’s not your fault.”

Whipping around at the frail whisper, (Y/n) peeked around every visible inch of the hallway to see if one of the nannies was following her or her father was finally ready to free her of guilt. Yet nobody was there, no mouths to whisper and no audible drafts to blame.

She turned back around and continued walking down the hallway, not as alone as before.

“I’m nineteen, don’t you think I should, I don’t know, explore the real world?”

Mrs. Heelshire simply shook her head, “You can’t leave us!”

“I won’t be leaving!” (Y/n) tossed her arms out in a display of exaggeration, “I just can’t be in this house for the rest of my life!”

“So you will go eventually,” the older woman huffed, crossing her arms, “Brahms and now you.”

That made the teenager freeze. Nothing like the mention of her dead brother to make her question herself. She pulled back from the yelling match to judge and critique every inch of herself. Her leaving the nest wasn’t comparable to dying - and Brahms didn’t abandon them, he couldn’t control the flames. It wasn’t like he purposefully lit the playhouse on fire at his own birthday party.

No, but she could’ve stopped it. She knows she could have.

“That’s not fair,” (Y/n) muttered, though it sounded less like a genuine response and more like she was trying to point it out to herself.

“You know what else isn’t fair?”

“Don’t.”

“Having two kids and the only one alive wants to abandon you.”

Mr. Heelshire watched from the kitchen table, sipping on his afternoon tea quietly to give more space for the sound of his wife and daughter’s argument to permeate through the room. Through the room and into the walls where even the biggest rat hiding inside could hear.

(Y/n) rubbed at her arm, regretting her decision to even bring the topic up, “I’m sorry…”

“Oh, honey,” Mrs. Heelshire cooed, cupping her daughter’s cheeks and pulling at any fat her fingers could get to in the pockets, “It’s okay. Don’t be so pouty, it’s alright.”

She didn’t bother pushing her mother’s hands away this time.

(Y/n) silently dipped her paintbrush into a dollop of vibrant, cherry red on her palette, glancing over her canvas to the muse every so often.

A house can appear incredibly eased and soothed from the frontline and nobody would ever know that inside a family of four was being murdered. They wouldn’t know until the corpses were discovered and the extended family was beating at each other. Vultures flocking to the values left to them by death.

Maria, the newest in the line of nannies, was holding position rather well for somebody who’d never modeled before. Clutching Brahms to her hip with a bright, pearly-toothed smile.

“I saw a few of your works around the house earlier,” the black-haired woman spoke, “Impressive for only twenty-three.”

“Thanks,” (Y/n) strained a grin, she didn’t necessarily prefer silence - you could hear the walls whispering when it was silent - but sadly, her focus wavered with noise, “I just like to paint the nannies; don’t like to forget them so quickly.”

“Oh,” Maria awkwardly chuckled, “well, that sounds nice of you…?”

“Just a personal thing,” the young woman shrugged off before catching something in the frame of her eye, “You’re about to drop Brahms.”

“Shit!” the other woman murmured, readjusting the doll in her arms, “Thank you so much.”

“My mom will go crazy, I don’t want to watch her yell at somebody over nothing,” she pursed her lips, “Not nothing; just something small.”

“Are you serious?” (Y/n) narrowed her eyes at her mother, “You and Dad are leaving for a two-month vacation right before my birthday?”

“You’re turning twenty-eight, dear,” Mrs. Heelshire smiled faintly, “I think you’ll be fine, now if you don’t mind, I’ll go downstairs and teach the new nanny how to properly care for Brahms.”

(Y/n) crossed her arms, watching her father continue to pack his bags, “You’re really just letting her drag you out of town right now?”

“She didn’t drag me into anything, honey,” he sighed, whether he knew how much it hurt her feelings to hear that or not didn’t exactly matter.

“Fuck you,” she grumbled, rushing out of the room and down the stairs, the twenty-seven-year-old woman went into her bedroom, fully prepared to ignore her parents and the new nanny. Blissfully unaware of the pest in her walls, watching with sad eyes and wanting to see her smile.

“Knock it off!” (Y/n) cried out to the man swinging the doll around - a protective instinct burning at her gut as she thought of him breaking it. She immediately regretted the harsh tone when Cole’s furious gaze snapped back to her, “Please… just give him back…”

“Watch it,” Cole threatened, holding the doll further away from her than before, “Pull any funny shit and I’ll break in your pretty little face.”

Yet another mistake against the brute, not that anybody but the secret rat was counting. The first, of course, being his arrival. The last, naturally, was bashing the doll’s head against the lip of a seat.

(Y/n) hiccuped wildly, her burst of tears nearly choking her as Cole shushed the room during one of Brahms’ fits. She’d experienced countless ragers with that doll to blame but this was the worst. Cole put a finger to his lips, commanding the people behind him into silence as he went to the wall, knocking a few times with his ear pressed to it. He went to the mirror next, grinning slightly, “There’s something- “

Before he could finish his sentence, the glass burst apart and forced him onto his back.

As Greta screamed and (Y/n) held her head in her hands in the midst of her hysterics, Malcolm called to the two women.

Large hands pulled onto the mirror frame first, then out came a fully grown man. Brahms Heelshire was alive - and he was big.

(Y/n) fell onto her ass, watching as her previously dead big brother stabbed Colt in the neck with a piece of his broken doll. Brahms lunged for Greta only to be beaten down by Malcolm and when the two were away; (Y/n) did not leave.

She crawled over to his sprawled out form, taking his shoulder into her hands and shaking him slightly, “Brahms…?”

He jerked once - then twice, then pushed himself up, taking a moment to look at his little sister before standing. In a fashion similar to when they used to sneak around the manor as children, he pressed a finger to his mask’s lips before running off.

“I came back for you, Brahms.”

(Y/n) fiddled with her fingers as her older brother was swept upstairs by Greta, following after them like a lost puppy. As Greta pulled back the covers, (Y/n) felt her heart thump wildly in her chest.

Of course, it never helped when he threw a woman across the room.

“Brahms!” (Y/n) shrieked, latching onto her brother’s back and attempting to pull him off Greta, only succeeding when he fell back from his own stab wound.

Greta stopped at the doorway, turning to watch as the Heelshire girl cradled her big brother’s head in her hands in her panic-rich state, “(Y/n), come on. We have to go.”

Looking between Greta and her brother, (Y/n) felt the memories creep back up from the dip of her spine.

“Is that Papa’s lighter?”

Emily nodded slightly as Brahms watched the flame flicker, the little boy speaking up first, “I was interested in it, I’m sure he won’t mind.”

(Y/n) clutched at a lock of her own hair, “You better give it back or I’ll take it myself!”

“You’re three, how are you going to take it from me?” he scoffed before shooing her out of the playhouse, “If you tell Dad, I’ll break all your toys and cut up your dresses.”

She hadn’t told Father - she didn’t take the lighter.

Shaking her head, (Y/n) looked back to her older brother, burn scars on the visible half of his face and suddenly the guilt was rising to her throat again. Her hands smoothed over to the clasp of the mask, carefully unclipping it as Greta ran off to find Malcolm. A wicked sob racked her throat, her voice squeaking up soft and whiny, “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…”

A hand came up to brush her tears away, Brahms watching his little sister continue to cry, a small, childlike voice peeking through his lips, “Please don’t cry, (Y/n)… I don’t want to see you cry…”

Calming down only slightly, (Y/n) helped her brother sit up, “I’ll stay, I’m sorry.”

Brahms continued to watch his sister’s tears spill, “You’ll stay.”

It wasn’t a question, he barely even bothered to disguise it as such.

“I’ll stay…”

She didn’t really have a choice, not when her parents kept her under lock and key so strictly. But maybe they anticipated Brahms coming back; maybe they wanted her to have no independence so she wouldn’t leave her big brother.

Not that she’d be able to ask them.

#brahms heelshire #brahms the boy #brahms heelshire x reader

74 notes · View notes

loove-persevering · 5 years ago

Text

I Can’t Take It (JJ x Reader)

Description: hii i love your writing!! could you maybe write for jj x reader where reader has an anxiety attack because of her parents treating her like trash or something? make it extra angsty pls

WARNINGS: ABUSE, SWEARING

Growing up you were always thankful for the things you had, the advantages you were given, the effort your parents put into making your life as easy as possible. Those things were all appreciated but never asked for, and most importantly never expected. You never thought of yourself as better than anyone because you had money, hell it wasn’t even yours to begin with it was your parents.

You were a kook and sometimes you were even ashamed of that word. You grew up in a nice private school that your parents paid a pretty penny for and saw first hand what the effects money did on children when they had easy access to it. People would do drugs, impulsively buy things, spend the money as if it was their own and that was a bad spiral to go down. In all the years you went to school in kook territory you never found a single friend that was genuine, that wasn’t so caught up in the thought of money, drugs, and themselves.

Then you met Kiara, who then introduced you to Pope, JJ, and John B. The most selfless people you knew, your best friends. The sad things was your parents didn’t know about them, you couldn’t bring them around the house because how they felt toward pogue kids. Especially kids like JJ who had a reputation for being a little reckless, even though you knew his recklessness mostly came from a place of defense.

Your parents sadly were skeptical of kids that didn’t come from the same type of wealth you did, it scared them. So when you’d head out with your real friends they thought you were somewhere else, you had made up names of people so they would never actually call any real kooks.

You were at midsummers tonight with your parents dressed in the most beautiful dress you could think of but you were absolutely miserable. You managed to sneak a glass of champagne off a waiter without him noticing and you practically down the whole thing in one chug. You set the glass down on a table wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, ‘’Not very lady like,’’ You mother says to you forcing a smile.

You immediately straighten up your hands pulling up the straps of your dress, you don’t need to say anything and you realize your father make his appearance right next to your mother, ‘’Were socialites why aren’t we socializing?’’ He asks through his smile.

‘‘You’re daughter is being a handful as usual,’‘ Your mother says and you bite your lip trying to hold back your anger.

‘‘Why don’t you go talk to your friends hunny,’‘ Your dad says gesturing over to Rafe and his friends, ‘‘Rafe’s always been a great kid, why don’t you go talk with him?’‘ Your dad says completely oblivious to the fact Rafe was not only doing hard drugs but a complete psychopath. You sigh making your way over to the group standing far enough away from them to remain off their radar.

You saw Pope from a distance helping out his dad and he offers you a kind smile from afar, it was nice to know you had at least one person that wasn’t a total douche around. You aimlessly try to avoid your parents the rest of the night and you eventually find yourself wandering around the halls of the house from the inside of the mansion midsummers was being held at. You were walking around a corner when a certain blonde haired boy runs into you, ‘’JJ,’’ You breath out a sigh of relief, ‘’You immediately embrace him in a hug, the last time you saw him he was in handcuffs but when you went back to the station later his bail had been posted. He doesn’t hug you back he just pulls away turning around panicked as if he was being chased. ‘’You’re face JJ,’’ You say reaching up to caress his cheek.

He takes his hands gripping the sides of your arms, ‘’I need you to stall,’’ He says breathlessly, ‘’Just stall for me okay?’’ He says pointing at you rushing into the mens bathroom. You turn around completely unaware of who you were suppose to stall that was until Rafe rounds the corner with a bunch of his goons.

‘‘Going somewhere?’‘ You say laughing, ‘‘Actually Rafe I’ve been looking for you,’‘ You say resting your arm against his bicep. ‘’You’re a hard guy to track down,’’ You say laughing lightly, he tries to move around you but you step in front of him blocking his way around.

‘’Move,’’ He says to you pushing you out of his way and you fall slightly your heels not helping your balance at all. The rest of the guys rush past you and you sigh taking off your heels wanting nothing more than the aching pain in your feet to subside. You were just about to enter the mens restroom seeing why JJ was running when you hear your dads voice.

‘‘Y/N!’‘ He voice seems to echo down the hallways. ‘’What the hell are you doing?’’ You hear him ask glancing from you to the mens restroom. ‘’Come on,’’ He says grabbing your arm pulling you back to the direction of the party.

‘‘Can you just wait a minute-’‘ You protest but he only jerks you harder.

‘‘They’re letting anybody into this party,’‘ He says rolling his eyes finally loosening his grip on your arm straightening his tie. ‘‘Why are you’re shoes off?’‘ He asks looking at you as if you were stupid.

‘‘I just- my feet they were hurting and-’‘ You stutter trying to explain to him.

‘‘Just put them back on,’‘ He says his face scrunched up in disgust his hand on the doorknob, he gives you a glare before stepping back out to the party. You sigh sitting down on a bench inside that was until you heard the once again another familiar voice echoing down the hallway.

‘‘Look man I can walk myself out,’‘ You hear JJ tell the man in the suit.

‘‘JJ?’‘ You call out, he glances up catching your gaze, ‘‘He’s my guest!’‘ You tell the man but he still aggressively pushes him out the door. You stand up from the bench following them out, ‘‘He’s my guest!’‘ You yell again now gaining the attention of the other midsummer guest.

‘‘I got lets. Can you see that Brother?’‘ JJ asks gesturing to his feet but you still followed in pursuit. The man just keeps pushing him through the crowd JJ making snarky comments in hope to mostly likely gain some sympathy so he wasn’t being so man handled. You run behind him still trying to get the mans attention away from JJ.

JJ takes a swig of a drink still being pushed out the door, ‘’He’s my guest! I invited him!’’ You yell following from behind.

‘‘Y/N!’‘ You hear your moms voice call out from behind you. Your father surely not far behind. You ignore her call and keep moving forward only a few feet from JJ.

‘‘Let go of him! You can’t just boot him I invited him here.’‘ Kie yells out gaining the attention of those around her as well her parents protesting from behind her. ‘‘I’m a member of this club.’‘ She says.

JJ pushes the man who had been escorting him away pointing up to Kie, ‘’Hey mandatory power hour at Rixon’s Kie, Y/N?’’ He says looking back at you gesturing out of the party. You glance back noticing your fathers tall demeanor making it’s way through the crowd no doubt pissed to catch you caught up in it all. You glance back to him for a moment then back to JJ, he holds out his hand winking at you and you couldn’t help but smile knowing the only way this night was going to end up somewhat decent was if you took his hand.

You reach out grabbing his hand and he smiles pulling you into his side for a hug, he spins you around and while doing so you catch a glimpse of your fathers face, utterly pissed was a good way to describe it. You took a big gulp slowly moving on past JJ wanting to put as much distance from you and your father as you possibly could. Kie followed in pursuit of JJ and so did Pope you all practically ran off Kook territory away from your parents, away from the guards, away from any responsibility you had to upkeep at the party.

______________

When you arrived home later that night you had noticed all the lights off, John B was in the van JJ in the passenger seat. ‘’Good luck,’’ JJ says raising his hand giving you a salute. You smile trying to play it off but you knew all hell was about to break loose as soon as you enter your house. You walk up the back steps carefully your heels in your hand, the entrance to the kitchen was open thankfully and you slowly open the door trying to not make any sound. You make it inside successfully with out any loud sounds that could possibly wake your parents up, you let out a sigh of relief as you lock the door laying your heels next to the door carefully.

You walk through the hallway your foot upon the first step when you hear someone cough, you close your eyes knowing what was about to happen. ‘’What the hell was that tonight?’’ You hear your father ask. ‘’Who the hell were those people?’’

‘‘They were my friends,’‘ You tell him moving away from the steps so you were standing in front of the entry way of the living room. Your father turns on the lamp next to him and you wince at the sudden brightness.

‘‘Your friends?’‘ He says letting out a merciful laugh, ‘‘I’ve never seen those people a day in my life, hell two of them were the help.’‘ He says. ‘’Since when do you hang out with those low lives?’’ He asks.

‘‘Those low lives are the best people I’ve ever met,’‘ You tell him. ‘‘You don’t even know the half of it.’‘ You say rolling your eyes.

‘‘I don’t know where this spunk of whatever the hell this is came from but it better be gone by the morning,’‘ He taunts, ‘‘Your mom was in distress the entire night, because of you.’‘

‘‘What if it’s not then?’‘ You ask him. ‘‘What if this is how I want to spend my time?’‘ You ask him.

‘‘We give you everything!’‘ He screams not doubt waking your mom up. ‘‘We give you everything you could ever ask for and you want to run around with the damn help?’‘ He says.

‘‘They’re my friends!’‘ You yell back finally raising your voice.

‘‘Y/N?’‘ You hear your mother call out and you glance up noticing her at the top of the stairs in her robe.

You glance back to your father who had gotten up from the chair making his way over to you only a few feet from you, ‘’You’re ungrateful,’’ He tells you. ‘’You don’t appreciate anything-’’ He begins to say.

‘‘That’s a lie!’‘ You groan back at him. ‘’You two are so stuck up on this damn high horse you don’t even see that I am around people I like!’’ You tell him. ‘’You think they’re below us because they don’t have enough money?’’

‘‘I think they’re trouble, and obviously they’re a bad influence on you. I mean look how you’re acting! And for what?’‘ He says his hand waving around him. ‘‘That kid was getting pushed out that you were so over the moon to follow was in jail this morning, did you know that?’‘ He asks you.

‘‘I did,’‘ You say simply. ‘’And for a good reason too.’’

‘‘You’re defending criminals now?’‘ He asks.

‘‘I’m defending my friend,’‘ You tell him staring him straight into the eye, ‘‘My family,’‘ You clarify.

‘‘Family?’‘ He says letting out a laugh. ‘‘You think those people are your family?’‘ He asks you.

‘‘They’re more of a family than I’ve had in years.’‘ You spit out. Then all of a sudden it happened your hand instinctively reached up to cup your cheek where your fathers palm had just hit. You felt the tears in your eyes as you held your hand against your face. Your father had never hit you before, ever. You could hear your mother coming down the stairs but by the time she had gotten down you had made your way back down the hall and running out the back door.

‘‘Y/N!’‘ You heard your mother yell from the door. You kept running, your body was at a high as if you were running on full adrenaline. Your knees felt weak as if they would give out any second but you could only hope they would get you where you wanted to go, the one place you felt like you needed to go.

_______

Sometime later you arrived at John B’s house, you hadn’t even realized how much time had passed by the time you got there. You walk up to the window knocking on it gently a few times your hands were shaking you weren’t sure from if it was how cold you were or if it had something to do with the slight pressure in your chest. It takes a few knocks before you finally see the light turn on in the bedroom and a few seconds later the blinds fly up exposing JJ his hair a mess and his clothes all messed up from sleeping.

He was rubbing his eye when he noticed your state, immediately waking him up. He holds up a finger to you and you nod your head watching him walk out the bedroom door, the light on the porch turns on and JJ comes stumbling out over to you. ‘’Hey, hey.’’ He says rushing over to you pulling you into a hug. You didn’t bother hugging him back you just stay still allowing him to embrace you. He pulls away slowly from you his hands gently touching the sides of your arms, ‘’What happened?’’ He asks.

You open your mouth but the words fall short- JJ looks at you and you feel his hand come up wiping away the tear you hadn’t realized had fallen. ‘’I just-’’ You start but can’t finish and you feel your self gasp for air slightly. JJ wraps his arms around you pulling you into his body the warmth felt good on your cold skin.

‘‘You’re freezing,’‘ He says, ‘‘Come on.’‘ He says guiding you inside.

‘‘Woah,’‘ John B says coming out of his room noticing you.

‘‘I got her,’‘ JJ says to him and John B just stares and watches. ‘‘Give me a minute alright?’‘ He says walking you into his room and you take a seat on his bed. He wraps his blanket around you and tells you he will be right back and when he leaves you could hear him and John B outside the door.

‘‘What happened?’‘ John B asks.

‘‘I don’t know she just showed up here like that, fuck.’‘ He sighs.

‘‘Did you uh-’‘ John B pauses, ‘‘Did you see her cheek?’‘ He asks.

You don’t hear an answer to that, but a few moments later JJ comes barging back in the room which makes you jump a little, ‘’Sorry,’’ He says shutting the door with his foot and making his way over to the bed. ‘’Can you tell me what happened?’’ You close your eyes shut forcefully shaking your head, ‘’Alright, alright.’’ He sighs.

You let out a shaken breath before you look up at JJ concern was written all over his face, ‘’My dad,’’ You sigh. ‘’He just-’’ You try to explain once again but fall short.

‘‘Hey you don’t have to talk,’‘ He tells you wrapping his arm around you. ‘‘You don’t have to say anything,’‘ He tells you. ‘‘You’re safe here.’‘

‘‘That’s why I came here,’‘ You tell him looking up offering him a small smile. ‘‘Could I borrow some clothes?’‘ You ask him quietly not wanting to bother him more than you already had.

‘‘Oh yeah,’‘ He says standing up from the bed. He rummages through his drawers and finally hands you a t-shirt of his and some basketball shorts. ‘‘I’ll just step outside-,’‘ He says awkwardly making his way over to the door shutting it.

After you had finished changing you walk over to the door slowly opening it and JJ turns around his face still laced with panic, he looked relieved when he saw you weren’t still crying. ‘’I’m done- you can come back in now.’’ You let him know. He nods his head opening the door more, you watch as he grabs a pillow of the bed and a blanket, ‘’JJ?’’

‘‘Yeah?’‘ He turns around to face you immediately.

‘‘Could you stay with me?’‘ You ask him, ‘‘If you don’t want to that’s fine I just-’‘ You begin to say but he cuts you off.

‘‘Y/N, of course.’‘ He says offering you a small smile. You smile back at him making your way onto his bed and he goes to turn out the light and you feel him slowly crawl into bed next to you.

‘‘Thank you,’‘ You tell him finally feeling calm enough to talk. ‘‘I was scared you wouldn’t answer,’‘ You let out a small laugh.

‘‘I’ll always answer for you,’‘ He lets you know. ‘‘Did your dad hit you?’‘ He asks.

‘‘Yes,’‘ You answer immediately and you hear him take in a deep breath. ‘‘He’s never done it before,’‘ You let him know. ‘‘It was the heat of the moment, I was just pushing him and-’‘ You let him know not really sure as to why you were defending your dad.

‘‘Nobody should ever hit their kid,’‘ He says simply. ‘‘Especially you.’‘ He says.

‘‘I don’t know if I can go home, face him again I mean.’‘ You admit to him. ‘‘This feels more like home than any other place,’‘ You tell him. ‘‘You feel like home too,’‘ You tell him.

‘‘Me?’‘ He asks shifting in the bed on his side so now he was looking at you. He had one hand under the pillow and the other resting on his side.

‘‘Yeah, you feel like home. You make me feel safe.’‘ You tell him offering him a smile. And although you couldn’t see him fully you could tell he was smiling too.

_____________

A/N:

I LOVE ME A SOFT JJ FLUFF EVEN THOUGH THE BEGINNING WAS TENSE

THANKS FOR SENDING IN THIS REQUEST!

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj x reader #jj obx #obx fanfiction #obx netflix #obx #outer banks #rudy pankow #rudy #rudy pankow fanfiction #rudy pankow imagines

392 notes · View notes

rainydayhogwartsimagines · 4 years ago

Note

Hi can you do draco x hufflepuff reader where they met on the first day of hogwarts and became best friends then had crushes on one another??? It can be head cannons or like a story idc I just wanna feed my hufflepuff heart

Aye! A fellow hufflepuff! Hi there!

There you were. You had made it to hogwarts

You had been anxious that whole day.

See no one was really there to show you how to go about things, especially with that brick wall.

Your parents both were muggles, they had noooo fucking idea how any of this worked

All they knew is that you had a lot of weird moments as a kid

Mostly glass shattering during tantrums or things levitating on their own

Then they got this letter and woman showing up explaining "Look, your kid's a wizard."

So they were like "Ohhhh see that explains things!"

Sure, Mcgonagall helped your family when they had questions but Mcgonagall wasn't there now

But this one kid saw you wandering aimlessly.

"Hi." He said with a grumble after Narcissa recognized that lost look.

You turned around and Draco's heart was like "Oh... Oh no. Oh I'm feeling things for this person."

"Are you... Uhm... Here for... The platform?" You asked.

"Yes. Actually my mother sent me over here because you looked confused" he said.

"Oh! Oh thank God." You said with relief.

So he told you to run through it.

You thought he was joking until he ran through it.

So you followed.

Steam hit your face immediately and you were coughing.

"Wow that's brisk." You coughed.

Draco held back a snort.

You sat with him on the train and he finally introduced yourself.

"I'm Y/n by the way."

"Draco Malfoy." He said with a nod.

"That's... Kind of a cool name." You said.

Something in his gut told him "oh she's definitely not a Slytherin."

"What house are you hoping for?" He asked curiously.

"What?" You asked.

"Hogwarts house? The ones for the school?" He said.

"...There are houses for this?" You asked.

So he explained all of this to you.

He seemed to take great pride in Slytherin

You were just curious.

You stuck with Draco for the most part and some other kids who knew who he was.

"So. How do you not know anything about the wizarding world?" Draco finally asked.

"Neither of my parents are wizards"

Crabbe and Goyle nearly choked on air and Draco seemed to be having some sort of episode.

"What?" You asked.

"You're a mudblood?" He asked.

"It's not like I can control my genetics. And I know enough about the wizarding world to know that is offensive so could you not call me that!?" You said defensively.

That's when it clicked.

"She's a hufflepuff." He thought.

He didn't realize how right he was until you were sorted.

There was this one kid, she was spunky as fuck.

It was her last year there but she seemed to be excited to have someone new in the house.

Her name was Nymphadora but she loved "Tonks"

She was basically your big sister from this point on.

She showed you around with Cedric, she introduced you to new people, she even told you some secrets about the school.

That's when you noticed another group.

This one kid with glasses that NO ONE would shut the fuck up about.

You didn't officially talk to him until you ran into him

Literally. You ran into him after class one day.

"I'm so sorry, I wasn't watching where I was going!" You said.

"It's okay, I wasn't paying attention either." He said reassuringly.

You introduced yourself and Ron introduced himself too.

Two new friends gained.

Course this pissed Draco off.

Because of course you thought Harry was cool.

Truth be told you had no fucking idea why he was famous.

But Draco decided to confront you while you studied.

"Hi draco." You said looking up.

"I see you're spending time with Potter." He said, his voice clearly annoyed.

"Yeah. So?" You asked.

"So? What are you trying to gain?" He asked.

"...Does unconditional friendship and support count?" You asked confused.

"I'm serious. Is it the fame?" He asked.

"... Harry's famous?" You asked.

"... You've got to be kidding me!"

So Draco told you what he knew.

But now you just felt bad.

"Wait so how am I a bad guy here?" You asked.

"What?" Draco asked.

"I've befriended a kid who's family is dead and his aunt and uncle are abusive. And I'm a bad guy because I just want him to feel safe?" You asked.

You did know about his Aunt and Uncle from Harry. You never even met these people and you hated them.

But shit. When you put it like that now Draco felt like an asshole.

You sighed and got up.

"Y/n." He called.

You turned around confused.

"...Can you introduce me to Harry?" He finally asked.

So you did.

Course Ron wasn't too thrilled about Draco hanging out with you guys.

But then the boys discovered that they had a lot in common and it was game over

Tonks really enjoyed seeing you get excited over it all.

Draco was more bearable too

You were like a friendship matchmaker though, especially after you met Hermione.

You both ended up studying together after all of the tables in the library had been occupied.

You thought "See she gets it!"

You both tended to study because it beat doing muggle homework.

Halloween rolled around and Ron said something mean about Hermione.

"Ron! Shut up!" You said after Hermione ran past you in tears.

You ran after her and calmed her down before uhm

Troll in the dungeon?

Draco's common room was in the dungeon so naturally Slytherin had to be moved.

He was walking with the boys when they all realized : "OH SHIT Y/N'S NOT WITH US"

so they all went looking for you when they found the troll.

You had your back against the wall and was of course panicked because you were face to face with a troll and you were eleven.

"Hermione." You whimpered.

"We're doomed." She said.

Draco ran in with the boys and saw the predicament

Well shit.

Thanks to Ron's spell the troll was handled

Course you all got in trouble because you were supposed to be in your common rooms.

Draco was just glad you were safe.

You and the boys celebrated Christmas together, your mom mailing you a polaroid camera to you.

The boys (except Harry) were mesmerized and took a ton of pictures together.

You had a ton of Tonks and Cedric

Then there was this whole thing with the Philosopher's stone and you and Draco were basically having to lie left and right.

"Mcgonagall wants to know if you know who froze Neville?"

"Waaahhhttt someone froze Neville that's wild guys. Really wild."

So other fun fact: Draco's a terrible liar.

When they all came back though oh boy.

The school year was coming to a close and you all agreed to write to each other.

Draco had this one really weird rule though.

If you were to spot him with his parents pretend like you don't know him.

According to Draco, his father wasn't a big fan of him hanging out with people outside of Slytherin.

So when summer started Tonks actually spent a lot of it with you, showing you and your parents the wizarding world.

You loved hanging out with her and she honestly did love you like a little sister.

When school started again though, you promised her you'd write to her about it all.

She was the one who dropped you off at King's Cross that year btw

The next year started and you all sat with each other on the train.

"I just don't see why you need a house elf! It seems barbaric!" Hermione said.

Draco immediately noticed you and smile, moving so you could sit next to him.

You did.

"What's a house elf?" You asked.

"A magical creature who assists wizards." Draco said.

"Unwillingly. They treat them like animals." Hermione griped.

"why are we talking about this?" You asked.

"Because our house elf apparently decided to pay Harry a visit." Draco said with a sigh.

"He said something big was happening this year." Harry admitted.

"If it's bigger than a troll, we might be screwed."

News flash: It was.

Things took a bad turn when Draco knew exactly what the chamber of secrets meant.

Oh God he was SO anxious that entire year.

It didn't help when you ended up petrified

Hermione was almost petrified but you managed to scream "RUN" before you were

He was not a fan of Gilderoy.

He actually called him a "pompous ass" when he acted like baby in the chamber of secrets

When you woke up you found out all about the insane adventure and was like "Dude. Next one, count me in"

The next summer rolled around and you again, spent it with Tonks.

Except this time you and Tonks went to the borrow.

Fred and George fucking LOVED Tonks.

You had these strange interactions with Ron's rat though.

It's like it could understand you.

You would sit at the breakfast table and read the paper right before the wonderful owl that delivered mail would come literally crashing through.

Poor uncoordinated bastard.

Draco was the first to alert the group "uh hey guys. There's kind of a convict on the loose."

None have you had seen Draco over the summer. his parents were great. Just fucking super.

So when you did see him again your heart nearly beat out of your chest.

He dropped the whole "hair slacked back" thing and went natural and it just made you very attracted to him.

Draco noticed a few new things about you

You were taller, and really fucking pretty.

The train ride was not a fun one, you being there crammed on the damn thing with some sleeping dude.

So instead of Harry being attacked by a dementor it was you.

You had a panic attack afterwards, freaking out as the now very much awake Remus talked you through it.

He gave you chocolate and automatically you were like "...this dude is gonna be awesome."

And boy were you right, because he was your favorite professor that year.

Harry seemed to be really paranoid about the dementors though.

A lot more than you were.

He didn't know why yet, but he knew that Sirius had to have some involvement with him.

So Buckbeak. You fucking loved this creature.

Draco however was an idiot.

He stumbled after Goyle pushed him forward into Buckbeak's personal space

Buckbeak almost attacked but you intervened and calmed him down immediately.

"Buckbeak! Eyes on me!" You called.

Buckbeak looked at you but still made attempts to stare at Draco.

"No. Eyes here! Now." You called.

"I'm a friend. See?" You said bowing.

Buckbeak bowed to you and Draco's heart did a whole ass backflip.

You all did notice hermione popping up when she most definitely wasn't there before though

"How does this even work--" "You carry the five" "CHRIST WHERE THE FUCK DID YOU COME FROM!?"

Draco and you did spend a lot of time together.

Course he wasn't the biggest fan of Cedric being around when he was in the Hufflepuff common room.

But you honestly saw Cedric as your brother. And he saw you as a little sister. So. Ew.

Draco didn't know this though.

Then came the lesson on Boggarts and oh boy.

Your boggart was very strange but clearly affected you.

The boggart was you.

You quite honestly were afraid of what you were capable of.

When you were a child you would make things shatter around you, sometimes injuring your parents.

Sure the injuries were minor, but it didn't stop you from feeling guilty after you found out you were the cause.

You were terrified that if one day you snapped now that you were officially trained and more powerful, it'd be a whole lot more destructive.

So yes, you were terrified of yourself.

Remus handled it and Draco pulled you back asking if you were okay.

You kept to yourself for a while. The boggart brought up those anxieties all over again and you were paranoid you'd make something go wrong.

Draco was not having that though and confronted you about it.

You talked it through with him and he assured you that if something ever went wrong he'd make sure that it'd be okay

So from that point on you two were inseparable.

Hogsmeade was honestly the best

Snowball fights and piggyback rides

You laughing as Harry managed to sneak in on the trip, scaring the fuck out of Ron.

Draco giving you his scarf when you got cold.

The group going "Oh. Oh they're totally in love"

Then Harry found out that Sirius black was friends with his parents.

And the leading cause of death of his parents.

You basically vowed that if you ever came across this fucker you'd probably punch him.

Then Lucius found out about Buckbeak.

And oh boy.

That did not blow over well

You called Lucius an "Asshole". To his face.

Hermione came up with a plan and FINALLY revealed "Hey I have a time turner"

You were like "YOU COULD NOT HAVE TOLD ME THIS BEFORE I CALLED THAT VERY TERRIFYING MAN AN 'ASSHOLE'!?"

So you went on a rescue mission

It was an emotional rollercoaster

At one point you were convinced that Harry's dad was alive.

Just to find out that Harry could produce a bright ass patronus.

Then you're discovered your favorite professor was housing a convict.

Then you had a panic reaction and punched the convict.

Just to find out that he was innocent and that Ron's rat was actually guilty.

Then when the actual guilty party was revealed and tried to run you discovered that your favorite professor is a goddamn werewolf.

But hey, Harry now had a godfather!

The next summer came along and Tonks picked you up from King's Cross and met Remus

She couldn't stop staring and neither could Remus.

Immediately you knew something was going to happen there.

The summer was spent listening to Tonks go on and on about this guy who used to be your professor.

Which: you were used to listening to weird shit because there were some girls who did have a thing for Snape.

But you knew way too much about Remus to ever find anything attractive about him.

Anyways: SUMMER!!!

Which again was spent at the Burrow

This time you all ended up going to the World Quidditch game.

When you saw Draco there you had to hide excitement because Lucius was there and-- Holy shit did he get more terrifying-- HOW IS THAT EVEN POSSIBLE!?

Draco still found ways to talk to you though

Cedric noticed the smiles and the glances at each other

The whole group noticed.

It was hard not to when you had that smile that could light up a fucking room on your face.

Fred and George would tease you relentlessly.

But Draco managed to sneak off to you guys and hung out after the game.

Y'know. Right before it went to shit

You all managed to escape but you got separated from Draco and was anxious the entire fucking time

Then he snuck out and went to the burrow and you hugged him

It was the first time you two ever really showed affection to each other.

Especially since Draco was giving you this kind of hug that made you melt into his arms

Molly and Arthur were like "They're in love." Immediately.

He stayed for dinner before having to leave

"So. How long have you had a crush on him?" Fred asked.

"What?" You asked.

"Come on. No one looks at someone that way and doesn't have a crush on them." George said.

The thought of you having a crush on him actually never crossed your mind.

But then they said that and now it was the only thing you could think about.

Which made the next time you saw Draco very... Jumpy.

"Hi." He said as you were reading on the train which scared you so bad your book was unintentionally launched at Harry's head.

Then at the feast he sat next to you and asked if you were okay after you blushed so intensely he thought you were running a fever.

You knocked over your drink.

We can begin to notice that you are a lot more clumsier than usual.

I mean yeah you were always clumsy but this is a whole new range of clumsy.

Then the schools were introduced and Draco whispered in your ear making you nearly scream.

Fred and George were watching these interactions on the verge of pissing themselves

They knew damn well that they were the cause of your nervousness.

Pt 2 coming soon.

#draco fuckingmalfoy #draco imagine #draco malfoy #draco x reader #draco x y/n

101 notes · View notes

greenninjagal-blog · 5 years ago

Note

Sentence starters: 14, with Roman & Deceit??

Haha, long time, no write! We’re having a pretty poor time right now so I figured a little bit of Roceit would be in Order! Warning: I did not edit this in the slightest.

Summary: Roman has always been a little curious, but the pastry chef definitely takes the cake on this one.

Words: 3007

Quick Taglist: @chelsvans @dwbh888 @glitchybina @faithfulcat111 @felicianoromano @harrypotternerdprincess @holliberries @jemthebookworm @killerfangirl3 @musical-nerd18 @never-end1ng-suffering @nonasficcollection @silverflame-wc @stricken-with-clairvoyancy @the-sunshine-dims @themagicheartmailman @themultishipperchild @thenaiads @treasureofpriam @vianadraws

Read on Ao3 || My General Writing List || Prompt Page (it should also be stated that you don’t need to pick from this prompt page if you don’t want to. Just send me an idea and I’ll do my best :D)

The Point of This is....

“Here, Bite Down on this.”

Roman has had a lot of weird first meetings. As a kid he liked to wander around the town meeting knew people, which, of course, drove his mother up a wall the first ninety or so times that she had glanced away from him for a second and he had disappeared completely on her. Roman was just a curious type of kid. The first time he had been confused by a couple of workers who were fixing an outlet behind one of the counters at his mothers favorite little shop, and he had just wanted to know what they were doing.

They had told him! Which had been cool. Did you know there were wires all in the walls?! He hadn’t even realized that his mom had been frantically looking for him until she had grabbed his arm in a frantic panic and asked if he was alright, and then don’t you dare wander off again! What if something had happened?! Roman!

It had happened again anyway, the store clerk had been redressing a mannequin and it had been neat! Then window cleaner, then flower arranger from the flower shop, then the busker outside the Irish themed pub he wasn’t allowed to be near, then the sign flipper at the street corner who taught him to spin one of the smaller signs--

The point was that by the time Roman hit middle school he knew most of the “little people” by name, and they of course knew his. Roman knew that a lot of them called him by his full name because his mother used to scream it when he went missing,-- Roman Alexander Prince, if you don’t get back here right this instant-- but he learned a lot of cool things!

He could arrange flowers, knew when and where the most dense foot traffic was, knew how to flip signs and draw attention. He could Macgyver his way through most electrical circuits, had the sewers under his town fully mentally mapped out, and knew that if you hit the vending machine behind the laundromat just right, you could get a free snickers bar.

He liked learning knew things. And for the most part? People liked to teach him.

As he got older, he noticed just how heartbreaking that sort of thing was. When he held the ladder steady for the owner of the Mom-and-Pop grocer while the old man replaced the “N” of the sign, the man had casually mentioned that the last person who asked him how he was doing had been a family man who had stopped coming months ago.

Then the more he looked, the more he had seen it: the when he waved to the woman who worked the bakery her whole face had lit up like he had gifted her the world, when he bought the street performer a water they had almost broken down to tears right there on the street, when he had offered the man sitting alone at the park with his head in his hands a chance to pet his dog, the man had called him a “generous kid” and tossed him five dollars before he left considerably happier than he was when he arrived.

The point-- and yes, Roman did have a point-- the point of all of this, was that Roman liked people. He liked learning things, and he liked hearing the stories that people had to share.

He liked telling those stories.

Which would probably explain how he got here: Mindscape, the ever prestigious school for the gifted. Although “gifted” tended to be a relative term. Roman had met a lot more people here, all his age, who eyed him warily like his smile was something to be scared of.

(”It is!” Remus, his twin had cackled from across the table in the dining hall, as if they didn’t have the same exact face.)

Roman and Remus had gotten in together, both on accident: Remus had crafted an application for Roman, sent it in without Roman’s knowledge, and then hacked the School’s Admissions database and marked the application for acceptance.

Things should have gone really bad, because Remus hadn’t known that the School President, Thomas Sanders, checks each and every application and when he noticed an application had skipped most of acceptance process he started digging.

Things should have gone really bad then. Like really bad. Like Remus ends up in jail and Roman has to change his name and move countries, really bad.

Instead Thomas Sanders, had sent them both acceptance letters, and Remus was required to work in the IT department without pay and take all the computer application classes. Somewhere in the middle of that Remus had struck up some sort of deal with the cyber defense team where the Mindscape’s tech department spent all school year building their best unhackable code, and in the summer Remus got to take anything and everything he learned that year and try to break it.

Remus had been winning for two years now. Roman had seen the grown men reduced to tears the moment that Remus’s hands had started flying over the keyboard.

Again, the point to this-- Roman had been at this boarding school for two years now, barreling his way through the journalism and creative writing classes like they were tissue paper walls. He’s met a lot of people his age, and he’s witnessed a lot of weird quirks about them.

Like how that kid in the library who likes to sleep on top of the bookcases, and Roman had witnessed getting swatted with a broom so many times. He was a gymnast and an acrobat and really freaking flexible-- and he had told Roman to fuck off when he had tried to learn anything more than that.

Or like that artist who ran the yearbook club took pictures of everything. It had been pretty cute the way the puffball had insisted on taking pictures of the cracks on the side walk, the clouds in the sky, the rainbow made from the refraction of the light through the glass windows. They had called it “catching little pieces of happiness in everyday!” Which was much sweeter than Roman had been anticipating. “Oops! Sorry gotta go, kiddo!” They had said and then they had been gone taking more pictures before Roman could ask anything about them.

Or like that guy from his Civics class who had gotten way too competitive about the trivia game they had played in class. It wasn’t just trivia though: Roman had learned later that he apparently Logan Ackroyd, the Logan Ackroyd, who had won the American chess tournament for three year in a row now. Any game that Logan touched, reportedly, he won. Chess, Checkers, Othello, Jenga, even Tic-Tac-Toe, and he treated them each like a life or death situation.

The point is of this is everyone had a weird quirk about them.

Roman knew that, knows that.

Heck, even Roman had a weird quirk, which apparently was wandering the school halls after classes. And now that includes being dragged into one of those classrooms by the hoodie of his sweatshirt and then immediately having a fork of something shoved in his mouth.

“VIRGIL!” Another voice squawks, followed by a telltale click of a camera taking a photo, but okay, Roman is a little too busy choking on a fork to take in everything.

There is a hand on his back, and one on his chest, holding him surprisingly steady, while he basically dies-- and man, he did not think that he’d be dying at seventeen years old. Who knew that his mother would be right all those times she insisted that his habit of walking around aimlessly was gonna be the death of him?

There are tears in his eyes by the time he manages an inhale, and someone takes the fork back out of his mouth. The hand on his back is rubbing soothing circles and his lungs flutter weakly, like a butterflies wings.

��Dude,” A voice says boredly. Roman squints up at his attacker-- because yes this was an attack and Roman will forever be scarred by it-- and vaguely recognizes the purple patched up hoodie for the library acrobat. “I said “Bite down on this”, not choke and die on the floor.”

Roman coughs to dislodge the last bit of whatever food just got shoved down his throat.

“Please ignore him,” A smooth voice says, a new voice, and one that sounds exactly like silk on Roman’s ears. “Are you okay?”

The new person, the man who is holding Roman, is, in a word, pretty. Actually, no wait, not pretty; he’s gorgeous. He’s beautiful. He’s Michelangelo’s David come to life, an angel straight from heaven, the God Apollo himself taking a quick break from driving his sun chariot to walk among the mortals--

“Virgil, what did you do!” The breathtaking stranger yelps.

“I didn’t do anything!” The acrobat shoots back, although he looks worried, “I just put the fork in his mouth! Oh shit, dude come on, please don’t tell me you’re allergic to something-- Dee what was in that? I can’t go to jail for killing someone! I just got here!”

There’s another click and a giggle and Roman blinks himself to enough awareness to realize that beside the three of them, there’s also that photography artist and the Logan Ackroyd in the room, also what looks like a cake with three slices cut out of it.

“You aren’t going to jail,” Logan says, although he’s playing on a Nintendo Switch and isn’t paying all that much attention to what’s going on.

“It just a cake,” Dee adds, almost desperately and Roman’s knees really do go weak at that. A pretty man? Using that tone to address Roman? Roman’s surprised he’s still conscious at all. “Are you allergic to eggs? What about Wheat? Milk?”

“Deep breath, kiddos!” The person with the camera suggests, and Roman knows immediately that they are 100% aware that his flushed cheeks and lack of breath are not from an allergy. They take another picture and Roman dies a little more on the inside.

“Please...don’t let... my brother see that,” Roman coughs one more time, “I’m begging.”

The artist just laughs and takes another picture.

“No allergies?” The god beside him says and Roman finds him looking absolutely anywhere but at him.

“No allergies,” Roman confirms, “None at all. It’s all good. And you know I should be--”

“What did you think of it?” The acrobat interrupts. And when Roman just blinks he snaps, “The cake, Princey! Tell Dee that the cake was fine and he can stop banging his head on the table now.”

Roman chances a glance at the man holding him up, and yeah, he could see the faint red marks were he had obviously been hitting his head on something. Unfortunately, said man was also looking at Roman, looking for his answer to the question that was just asked of him and Roman has already forgotten what it was again.

His eyes were different colors, and that totally reminded Roman of that week in the summer when he hung around the ophthalmologist just outside of town. Roman had looked at a lot of eyes, learned a lot about eyes in that time, but really there was something different about those ones. One was a brilliant bright brown, like hickory and the other was glistening gold. He looked like something straight from a fantasy.

Roman’s fantasy.

“Hey,” The stranger says softly, “Are you okay, darling?”

And that’s the last thing Roman remembers.

Because he fainted.

Because the gorgeous, beautiful, ethereal stranger called him “darling” and Roman’s weak gay heart promptly shut off.

He comes to again, just a few minutes later-- long enough that his head is throbbing and his lungs hurt a bit and mere idea of moving sounds exhausting. He’s comfortable just fine where he is.

On the floor.

With his head in the perfect strangers lap.

“There you are,” The man gives him a nervous smile that makes Roman’s mouth dry out. “Do you remember where you are?”

“Heaven?”

Roman has many regrets in his life. Like that time he thought that crawling down the manhole would be fun. Or the weekend he spent hanging out in the courthouse, which had turned out to be incredibly boring. Or that time he brought dog treats to the dog park and ended up get ambushed by like seven dogs at once and broke his arm.

But this....answering that, and immediately hearing that all too familiar cackle that can only belong to Remus? Yeah Roman rates that at the top of Roman’s Regrets.

The stranger bites his lip but he’s grinning all the same. “Apologies. When you fainted we, called the emergency contact on your phone.”

“Remus is not my emergency contact,” Roman grumbles and weakly shuffles his limbs to sit up.

Remus wheezes, from where he’s situated with an arm over the artist and the acrobat respectively. “Like-- Hell! I changed that months ago!” Remus grins, “I wasn’t gonna miss a chance to laugh at you while you get carted away in an ambulance! You only die once Ro! I wanna be there for it!”

“I should have consumed you in the womb.”

“Butcha didn’t!”

“The intention was there.” Roman sways, and he really doesn’t like the way the floor shifts like waves of an ocean.

“Pussy,” Remus tosses out, just for the sake of having the last word. He pulls his arms back from around the other two and fusses with the little artist’s hair. “Alright, brats! That’s my cue to drag my dumbass gay twin away before he faints again. But this was fun! Lets do it again! This time Dee can even let Roman actually fall and crack his head on the floor instead of catching him!”

Roman’s ears burn, and he peeks at Dee with a morbid mortification, “You caught me?”

“Well I was already, holding you up so it wasn’t as much as caught you as you...ah,” there’s a twitch of his lips, “as you fell for me.”

The noise Roman makes is not in any way, shape, or form flattering.

Remus cackles again.

There’s a click and a giggle, “Sorry kiddo! That was just too good to pass up!” The artist bounces slightly. “You both should definitely come back though! We’d love to have the company!”

“No, we wouldn’t,” the acrobat interjects, and lets out a heavy breath when he’s elbowed by his friend.

“Yes, we would!” The artist says. “And next time you can even have some of Dee’s pastries!”

“That’s not necessary,” The stranger says quickly, “They aren’t that good--”

“Will you stop lying!” the acrobat says, “You literally got into this prestigious ass school for your pastries, dumbass. They’re good. Accept it already! Geez!”

The stranger rubs his neck and then his cheek, before turning back to Roman. “Perhaps you can be the judge of that then? Darling?”

Yeah, Roman’s knees are weak again, but he’s stubborn enough that he keeps standing. “I think I’d like that. Although, I can’t say I’m any kind of pastry expert.”

“We all have our faults, I presume.”

Roman’s heart beats a little faster. “And admittedly I will be a little bit bias.”

“A little bit?”

“Only a smidge,” Roman reports, “I’ve heard that good company can affect the taste of food.”

“You intend to be in good company?”

“If it’s yours I’m sure it will be.”

“Who knew there was a smooth talker under that blush of yours?”

“If you think this was smooth you should see--

Remus claps his hands loudly enough to make the acrobat flinch and Logan in the corner curse in Korean. “Okay yes we get it: You both are gayyyyyy!” Remus exclaims, drawing it out just enough that Roman feels a bit of the Cain Instinct(tm) in him rise up. “But if neither of you are going to start undressing to give the rest of us a show, then we need to go!”

“Remus!”

“I’m just saying!” Remus shrugs and then hooks an arm around Roman’s neck and pulls him towards the door, “Its not fair to the rest of us, if you keep being a tease!”

“I hope you step on a lego and fall into a pit of sharks.”

Remus messes with his hair, which seems to be his thing right now.

The others in the room call out their goodbyes, and Remus drags Roman away before he can get more than a sloppy wave. Its still embarrassing.

Actually everything that happened was embarrassing, from top to bottom, and there was absolutely no moment were it wasn’t completely mortifying. Not only did he choke on a piece of cake he didn’t even get to taste, but he gay panicked, and then gay fainted, and every second of it was recorded via camera snapshots. And late at night, when Roman is turning it over in his head and screaming into a pillow, he barely notices his phone flashing.

He’s already miserable, because they probably just invited him back to be nice, and he didn’t even know their names. And Remus was still laughing at him for everything, and everything just really sucked. He opens up his phone to check the message, ignoring the way the his screen burns his eyes.

There’s a text message.

An actual text message.

Stole your number hope you dont mind

Roman can’t breath. The phone in his hand vibrates again.

Oh and your heart. I stole that too. this is a ransom demand.

$40,000 in cash. Or a date to the coffee shop in town.

pls?

this is Dee Ekans btw

The baker?

oh fuck pls tell me this is the right number

roman?

And Roman rolls over and presses his face into a pillow and screams.

But really the point of all this is that Roman got the number of the cute guy. And maybe a date.

#roceit #roman sanders #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #remus sanders #Boarding School Au?#I guess it is #Look I just started writing and went with it #gay panic #gay fainting #there is nothing more gay than Roman

321 notes · View notes

kdinthecity · 4 years ago

Text

Love Amongst the Turtleducks

@zutaraweek for Day 1: Reunion. This will be an ongoing story of how Katara thinks Zuko needs a pet. The naming of the turtleducks as characters from Love Amongst the Dragons comes from one of my favorite fanfics, Not Stalking Zuko by @emletish-fish. The Blue Wolf and Dr. Yang also belong to her. Cross-posted on Ao3.

Katara arrived on the Capital island earlier than she expected. The Southern Water Tribe had procured an air ship in their recent trade dealings with the Fire Nation. Katara wasn’t sure who was more excited about the acquisition—her brother or her father. Neither of them were excited to send Katara off in the Iron Wolf’s maiden voyage, though.

Does the Fire Nation name its vessels after animals like we do, she wondered. Her father’s boat was dubbed The Blue Wolf which was also his not-so-coincidental nickname during the war. Sokka followed suit and named his first canoe The Gray Wolf. Points for creativity were apparently not needed to win this particular badge of manhood.

Maybe we just name things after wolves, she pondered. An air ship would be more aptly named something like Eagle Hawk or Buzzard Wasp. No one asked her, though, and she didn’t really care—as long as it got her there.

Traveling by air ship was much faster than by boat. It was even arguably faster than a flying bison, although she would never admit that to Aang. Appa wasn’t just a mode of transportation anyway.

She pushed away thoughts of her recent breakup with Aang. We’re not breaking up, just taking a break, she told herself. But those were his words, said a small voice inside her head. In the wake of their breakup—no, break—she planned to travel the world and study the nations’ different approaches to healing. So far, she hadn’t missed coddling Aang’s feelings or catering to his every whim.

She did miss Appa, though, which was probably pretty telling. Perhaps it was the unfettered companionship that she missed. She’d embarked on this journey alone, but was comforted in knowing she would see many friends along the way.

Where is Zuko anyway?

She’d arrived just after sunrise, unpacked her things in the guest villa, and checked in with Dr. Yang, her mentor during her stay. Her medical training wouldn’t begin until tomorrow, so for now she just wandered the palace grounds aimlessly. Zuko was undoubtedly very busy doing Fire Lord things, but she still hoped to see him today.

It was probably pretty telling how much she missed him. She craved the letters they exchanged—detailed and lengthy, yet never the same as seeing him in person. She allowed herself to admit that she couldn’t wait and then pushed these thoughts away, too. It was best not to complicate things.

The palace courtyard was beautiful. Flowers bloomed along paved pathways, their fragrance catching on the morning breeze. Bumbleflies buzzed between the buds, and the melody of birdsong encouraged a skip in her step. There was only one thing missing, but soon, Katara felt it. She drew water from the pond and settled into the first stance of a waterbending routine.

“What are you doing?”

She’d recognize that rasp anywhere. She’d been expecting him, even. But he still somehow caught her off guard. The only natural response was to splash him… for old time’s sake.

Soaking wet and scowling, Zuko didn’t offer any return greeting. “Katara! You can’t waterbend the pond! What about the turtleducks?”

She gaped at him. The what?

“I didn’t see any turtleducks,” she said, bending the water out of his clothes and back into an empty turtleduck-free pond.

Panic overtook the Fire Lord’s features. “Oh no! Where are they? Did you scare them away?”

He started frantically pacing around the courtyard. At one point, he removed the outer robe of his Fire Lord regalia and wiped a trickle of sweat from his brow. The search was getting serious.

Katara squinted at the midmorning sun. The breeze was gone. She’d forgotten how warm it was in the Fire Nation. She’d forgotten what a turtleduck looked like, too, but she couldn’t just stand there and not help. She got down on all fours to look under a bush, a likely hiding place.

“Zara!” Zuko called out, cupping his hands to his mouth. “Zali!”

Katara sat up straight and watched him with interest.

“Kizu! Tian!” he continued.

She quirked a brow. “You named your pets after Love Amongst the Dragons?”

“Turtleducks are not pets!” he protested. “And since when are you versed in Fire Nation theater?”

Had he always been this grumpy in person? This wasn’t how she envisioned their reunion.

“Ember Island, remember? You used to read it to Toph?” She didn’t mention that she’d read the script herself… a few times since then. She’d drop an occasional reference in their letters, hoping he’d notice. Apparently he didn’t.

“Oh. Right.” He softened. “I forgot about that.”

Katara crawled toward a faint quacking sound coming from behind a rock. “I think I found them.”

“Really?” A smile spread across his face, followed by a sigh of relief. Something inside her squirmed at the sight.

Once the ducks were swimming happily in their pond, Zuko and Katara settled underneath a nearby tree. He pulled breadcrumbs from his pocket and idly tossed them in the water. A chorus of quacks came as thanks.

“It’s OK to have turtleducks as pets,” Katara said softly, wondering if he always had breadcrumbs in his pocket for this purpose.

“These are just… ornamental,” he replied unconvincingly. “Pets are for children.”

True, they weren’t children anymore. Five years had passed since the war’s end.

“But Aang has Appa,” Katara offered.

“Appa is a spirit guide. That’s different.”

“King Kuei has Bosco.”

Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose. "I don’t want to be known as the world leader who talks to turtleducks. Next thing you know, we’ll be throwing a party in their honor.”

Katara smirked. “It would be fitting. You’re so obsessed with honor.”

“Don’t remind me,” he groaned.

A baby turtleduck waddled out of the pond and nudged Zuko’s hand. Without hesitation, he lifted the little guy to his shoulder. Katara sensed something in his tone—something deeper than sadness. Maybe he felt… alone?

“Hey Zuko?” She leaned into him, trying to pour understanding into the gesture.

“Yeah?”

“I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.”

Katara reached over to give her friend an awkward-sitting-side-hug. Mama turtleduck scrambled ashore and snapped at her.

Katara flinched, but Zuko squeezed her tightly in response. “Don’t worry, Katara. That’s what moms are like. If you mess with their babies, they’re gonna bite you back.”

She shuddered under his touch, remembering their shared loss.

He pulled away suddenly, coaxed the baby turtleduck back into the water, and gently pat the mother’s head. “Don’t worry, Zali. Katara is a friend.”

She wanted to be more, she realized. But that would be… complicated.

#zutara #Zutara week #zutara week 2020

120 notes · View notes

byeoltoyuki · 5 years ago

Text

BREATHE ⇾PJM

↳ Pairing: Jimin x You

❧ Genre : Fluff / Smut / slight angst / angel Jimin

❧ Words : +25k

❧ Warnings : mention of suicide / unprotected sex / riding /

❧ Summary: Before him, you were unhappy. Before him, you were just so tired, wanting to give up so badly. But then, an angel by the name of Park Jimin came into your life and turned it upside down. Suddenly, the long and dark days turned into something else. And just maybe you finally understood how it felt to be truly happy.

⇢ A/N: It’s finally out! I didn’t expect it to turn out long but it still happened.

@bts-lune just because I know you’ve been waiting for this ♥︎ and @toddsgirl27 just like I promised :)

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

When Jimin suggested a night ride, you didn't really expect him to drive you to the cursed bridge. Not that the bridge was actually cursed but it did bring back some rather unpleasant memories in your mind. You expected him to drive you to some cute, warm place where he would once again show you just how romantic he could be and how much he cared and loved you. Yes, Jimin was that predictable, or maybe you just knew him too well despite knowing him for only a year. Truth to be told it felt like you have known him for centuries if not more.

And yet, when the bridge came in sight, you couldn't help but fidget uneasily in your seat and glance warily at Jimin wondering what was he up to. You tried to convince yourself that it was a pure coincidence that he drove towards the bridge, it was just part of the trip but your guts told you otherwise. So when Jimin pulled the car to the side of the bridge and stepped out of the car, you simply stared at the poorly illuminated bridge before you.

What's on your mind, Jimin?

You didn't like being here. You didn't like how vulnerable you suddenly felt - you weren't used to it anymore.

As your heart decided on his own to beat faster, you closed your eyes for a moment and pressed your back a little harder against your seat. You inhaled slowly, trying to think about good things, trying to think positively and not let the memories related to this bridge haunt you. Easier said than done, but you were a fighter. When you opened your eyes once more, Jimin stood just before the car, the car lights giving him even more angelic vibes. Snow fell and swirled around him in a harmonious dance.

"You're beautiful." You whispered more to yourself than to him, but Jimin being Jimin of course heard you as his eyes found yours and he smiled proudly. You closed your eyes for a second before sighing in defeat. Whatever he had planned for you, you were ready to face it as long as he was by your side.

The moment you stepped outside, Jimin offered his hand for you to take it. And you did. You always did. He pulled you against him in a warm hug, his chin resting on top of your head, his arms wrapped tightly around your body. Jimin was warm, comforting and felt like home. It felt nice. Too nice even. Jimin rocked you gently while the snow fell on both of you and you snuggled closer.

“What are we doing here, Jimin?”

“Don’t you remember?” Jimin’s arms moved to your shoulders and he pushed you lightly to have a proper look of your face. He was smiling fondly at you, stars shining brightly in his eyes and it made you realize one more time how lucky you were.

He cupped your face, thumbs stroking gently your now bitten by the cold cheeks. Jimin looked at you with so much softness, with so much happiness, so much love in his eyes, it made you melt into puddle right on the spot. “This is where we met.” And with that he kissed your right cheek. "This is where I've met the prettiest of all the girls in the world." And then kissed the left one. "And this is pretty much where I fell for you." And he planted a soft kiss on your lips.

And this is where you changed my life. You wanted to say but instead went for some sarcasm. “More like this is where I wanted everything to end and a terribly attractive man decided to save my stupid ass.”

Jimin laughed heartily at that. “I like your ass though.” And to add to his words he gave your butt a strong squeeze.

"Jimin!" You slapped his arm playfully and pushed him from you, feigning being angry with him when in fact you were just as amused as he was. "Not the point!" You walked past him but halted to glance at him and smirk. "But I know."

You resumed your walking without waiting for his reaction, without looking back at him - you didn't need to. You couldn't read minds, not like Jimin, but you knew him enough to imagine his reaction. You smiled to yourself before stretching your hand and soon enough you reached for the ledge of the bridge with your fingertips. You brushed it lightly, your fingers feeling the rough and cold material as you walked slowly till you reached the place.

Just like last year, the river laid dark, silent, half frozen under the bridge. The night was still as cold, as snowy and could have been depressing but many things had changed for the past year. You had changed.

“Are you happy?” Jimin's voice echoed from behind you, so close, all you had to do was to take a step back and you would lean against him. But instead, you just stared at the darkness before you. Jimin's sudden question had taken you off guard. He sounded so serious, his voice rough which was unusual for him. And yet, you caught a glimpse of worry in his voice.

Am I happy? One year ago you would have said 'no' without hesitation. But now? The answer was just as simple. You pressed your back against Jimin's chest and instantly he circled his arms around your waist, pulling you even closer to him. You closed your eyes, your body relaxing, melting against him.

Your life wasn't perfect. Nobody's life was after all. But you got better. You set new goals, you met new friends, you met a man. A man that was willing to give up on everything for you. A man that turned your world upside down and showed you that your life didn't need to be perfect to be happy. You smiled to yourself at this thought and shifted in Jimin's arms so you could look at him.

"I am happy." You said without hesitation. "I truly am."

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

One year ago,

It was Friday night when the first snow started falling over Seoul.

When most of people hurried to get home from work - to escape the sudden drop of temperature and the snow; you wandered aimlessly in the streets, bumping into some people, avoiding others. You should be doing the same, go home, warm yourself with a yummy meal, watch a movie or just be with your friends or your family. All those prospects were tempting, inviting, except it didn’t quite work for you.

Being with your family was out of question. Not like there was much left anyway. Your mother passed away five years ago which left you alone with your father. There was a time, when you wouldn’t have minded staying alone with him but the loss of your mother had left a huge hole in your life.

You mourned her, missed her every day, missed her smile, her comforting words, touches. And yet with time, you accepted that death was part of everybody's life and there was nothing you could do except cherish the memories and keep the person in your heart.

But with her loss, your father changed drastically. At first, he started locking himself in his study, working from home day and night, barely seeing you, barely touching his food. You didn’t mind it, understanding that it was his way of coping with the loss. But then, empty bottles started piling up in your kitchen and by the time you realized what was going on, it was too late.

If only it had resumed to bottles. But no, then came the yelling, the blaming. You were no longer welcomed in your own house and instead he blamed you for his misery. It hurt a lot. You found yourself in a situation where nobody could help you and the only person who was supposed to be there for you, ended up hating you. But with time, like for many things, you became numb to the pain.

And now? Now you were alone, far from your family house and making sure to never come back.

You halted at the red light, squeezed in the crowd, you raised your head to look at the black sky hovering over the city. You admired how the city lights made the snow look like fairy dust falling all over your head and it reminded you of good old times when you would run under the snow, laughing with your mom.

I miss you.

"Watch your step!" Someone pushed you from the side but luckily for you, you didn't fall right on the road. Another day you would have fought back, calling out the idiot who shamelessly pushed you, but tonight you felt so tired, so lifeless which resulted in you crossing the road and holding back your tongue.

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

Out of all the places you could have chosen to go, a lonely, empty bridge ended up being your only option. At this time of the night, it was completely empty. No people, no cars. It was just you, your pain, your sorrow and the river.

You sat on the ledge of the bridge, contemplating the view before you. The river laid dark and calm under the bridge, frost forming at some places. It looked just as cold as the weather was and without a doubt, taking a swim would highly be unadvised, unless of course you wanted to get sick. However, your rustless mind imagined what would it be like to just lean a little more and let yourself fall in the cold water.

"That would be so easy." For a second, you really wanted to take the leap and let the cold darkness engulf you, choke you, burn you. You would be free. Free of life that didn’t want you happy. Free of people judging your every move. Free of human selfishness. Why were you the one being fired when all you ever did was to defend your colleague from a pervert? Why didn’t she help you out the same way you did for her? It was unfair and sadly it wasn’t the first time that someone betrayed you.

When was the last time something good had happened to you? When was the last time you laughed until crying? You couldn’t remember. It was long ago.

“Are you seriously planning to jump?” A very melodic, almost angelic voice interrupted your trail of thoughts. You stopped leaning and glanced to the side to see the culprit. A snarky remark was just at the tip of your tongue but it died as fast as it came because before you stood probably the most beautiful human being you had ever met. Ashy hair, pretty, plump (totally kissable) lips, cute nose, absolutely pinch-able cheeks and yet something in his eyes intimidated you. They were pretty of course, just like pretty much everything about him, but the glimpse in his eyes bothered you.

His hands in his pocket he took few steps towards you, his eyes never leaving yours, maybe it was his way of conveying his intentions or maybe it was just to make sure you wouldn't try something funny. "The river is cold. You really don't want to try it."

"What."

"It's freezing." He stated the obvious. "You really don’t want to find out."

"And how is it your concern?" You snapped harshly at him.

"You really don’t want to drown in this river." He ignored your attempt to make him leave and instead kept trying to convince you that it was a bad idea to jump.

As you stared, annoyed, at him, something shifted in his eyes. The gentle look he had given you so far suddenly changed and you swore his eyes glowed. Your mind suddenly felt numb, disoriented, clouded, you couldn’t properly think about anything. Your body felt heavy and foreign to yourself and instead of leaning toward the river, it acted on its own, making you move and change direction.

"Join me." He said without breaking the eye contact. Simple words and yet to your ears they rang like a command. A command, your body followed.

Almost.

"Come on, Y/N."

The fact that a stranger knew your name was what brought you back from your trance. It felt like a slap or like someone had just threw a bucket of cold water at you. Whatever spell this man was working on you wore off, leaving you confused for a second but in control of your body. What the hell was that? You looked at your hands, unable to understand what just happened, how did it happen.

"What are you?" You asked, half scared of what this odd man could make you do and half angry because you had lost control. "How do you know my name?"

If the man was surprised with how easily you managed to recover, he didn’t say a word. Instead, he sighed and decided to answer, "I just know."

An answer that didn’t satisfy you.

You didn't think it could get any creepier - he proved you it could. You got goosebumps just by looking at his (perfect) face. He knew your name, he acted like he knew you and it scared you because you had absolutely no idea who the hell he was and what he wanted from you (well, except trying to stop you of course).

"What-what do you want?" You hated yourself for stuttering, for showing him how badly he affected you.

"What I want?" He repeated to himself. "Isn't it obvious? I want to help you."

You scoffed at his words, not believing him even for a second. "Why would you want to help me?" You paused only for a second before quickly adding "Scratch that. How about you mind your own damn business?"

"But you are my business." He assured you

"I don't see how!"

He took another step toward you, the space between you had dramatically decreased and this time you really panicked. You didn't want him any closer, it was too risky, you felt it deep in your guts.

"Stop!" You yelled and stretched your hand to make him stop. "Don't come any closer."

To your biggest surprise, he actually stopped. You signed in relief, bringing your hand over your chest.

"I could. But I don't want to."

The nerve.

He took advantage of your bewilderment to approach you; in the blink of an eye he was before you, so close you could feel his warmth circling you. Shocked by the sudden closeness, you wanted to take a step back, except you were on the edge and if it wasn't for his hands reaching for you, you would have fallen right into the river.

Your heart leapt in your throat, a silent scream escaping your mouth as you grabbed back, tightly, this odd man’s forearms, holding desperately. For someone who had decided that death was the solution to all your problems - suddenly, you didn’t feel like it was. For the first time that night, you were scared.

I don't want to die.

"Don't let go of me." You begged, your throat suddenly felt terribly sore and dry which resulted in your voice cracking, only adding to your now frail look. If only you could see yourself.

"I won't." His hold only tightened and then gently he pulled you closer to him. "Wrap your arms around my neck."

Ten minutes ago, no, even two minutes ago, you would have fought back. But now? You couldn't remember anymore what made you think that suicide was an option. You couldn't remember what made you think that jumping into a freezing river was a good idea. Your mind had sobered up and you scolded yourself for being so weak, so selfish. Where did you fighting spirit go?

So you listened to this man who despite being a total stranger decided to help you. He didn't make sense. None of it did, but you wrapped your arms tightly around his neck, letting him slid his arms under your knees, lifting you up from the edge. He took few steps back before halting once more.

None of you dared to talk. You, too stunned, too overwhelmed while he silently observed your reaction. You had your eyes shut and your head buried in his chest. Your heart was still thumping hard in your chest but fear had slowly faded away.

"Are you scared of dying?" He asked, his voice back being gentle and his grip around your body tightened, spreading even more warmth around you. God. Why does he feel so comforting?

Were you scared of dying? You thought you weren't. What a silly thought. Of course you were but you were too damn stubborn to have realized it sooner.

"I am."

"Good. You should be." You jolted in his arms instantly, taken aback by his words and yet, there was no trace of wickedness or intention of hurting you. "You should remember the fear you felt when you almost fell in the river. Don't forget it. Don't forget what brought you here in the first place either."

"What-"

"It makes you feel bad, awful and you want to forget. I get that. But instead, I suggest you to make those negative thoughts, feelings into something else. Turn it into your strength. You reached the bottom, didn't you? Then, you can only crawl up, don't you think?"

He put you carefully on the ground, his right hand stayed still on your hip to make sure you wouldn't stumble, to make sure that your legs wouldn't betray you. The moment your feet met the ground, you instantly grabbed for his arms to steady yourself.

Once sure your legs wouldn't give in, you lifted your head to look at him and ponder over his words. His words were a bit too close to home, you felt them deep in your guts, in your heart and no matter how painful it was to hear, it felt right.

"Yes." You managed to found your voice despite being mesmerized by this man. You had been dealing with him for the past thirty minutes, maybe less, maybe more, you weren't so sure anymore, but he had showed you kindness you didn't expect from a human being. He was beautiful and strange. Mysterious and enigmatic. Angelic yet dangerous. But he made you feel something you hadn't felt in years: hope.

"Good." His fingers reached for your cheek. The first brush of his fingertips made you shudder, the second made your breath hitch in your throat and by the third brush you fought yourself not to close your eyes and enjoy the softness of his fingers on your cheek. "I can't promise you that things would get better immediately." He resumed talking while stroking your cheek. "Rome wasn't built in a day. Be patient and I promise it will get better."

"Okay." You nodded your head and pressed your cheek a little harder against his hand. "Ok."

He broke into a dashing, most beautiful smile you had ever seen and it was a contagious one, you found yourself smiling back at him, feeling at ease and in peace.

"You'll be fine."

And then everything turned black.

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

You woke up with a jolt, panting and sweating, disoriented for a moment. You looked around you, realizing quickly that you were in your room, in your bed which was odd. You remembered vividly spending most of your night outside, on a bridge with a stranger. The moment the memory of the man hit you, your eyes widened in shock. Had you dreamt about last night? You thought you did, but then, one glance at your clothes was enough for you to understand that no, it wasn't a dream.

But then, how did you end up in your own bed?

You pushed back your blanket only to wrap it around your body and then you left the safety of your room. Your flat was tiny but warm and decorated to suit your taste. The living room had only enough room for a small couch, a low table just beside and a TV attached to the wall. Just in the corner, beside the TV, hung a pot with marble pothos. You loved plants, they made the place look much healthier, warmer and made you feel less lonely. To some it would sound crazy but you didn't hesitate talking to your plants as you would take care of them. You had five more pots of plants in your kitchen and then a tiny completely improvised garden on your tiny balcony.

You opened the door to your balcony and readjusted the blanket around you. The fresh air hit your face, helping your mind to clear up. You had absolutely no idea what time it was but by how the sun was shining brightly it was probably past ten in the morning. You brushed one of your plant, pushing the snow from its leaves.

You'll be fine. His voice echoed in your mind.

Will I? You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, letting the cold engulf you and yet enjoying the first ray of sunshine that stroked your face. I will be. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but you believed you would be alright.

You reopened your eyes, gazing at the busy town before you and a small smile spread on your lips.

"Thank you." You whispered, the man's face still vivid in your mind.

Just as you closed the window behind you, your phone started ringing from somewhere in your living room. You followed the ring, from your window to your couch (why did you always lose your things in this couch?) and just like you expected it, your phone was hidden under a fluffy pink pillow.

You stared at your phone, quirking a brow at the name displayed on the screen. Auntie. A shiver run down your spine. Your aunt happened to be the only person from your family that you still talked to (and cared for). She was your mother's older sister and the only person who supported your decision of leaving the house. She knew how toxic the house had become, she saw the signs, she saw the damages. Just like you, she wanted you to leave and fly by your own wings. Of course, on many occasions, she asked you to come to live with her, she had enough room for you as she was single and too busy with her work. It was nice of her but you didn't want to rely so much on someone. And because you weren't sure you would be able to leave with someone as extravagant as your aunt.

You took a deep breath, bracing yourself for her attack before answering. "Hello?"

“Rise and shine!”

"Oh my god." You cringed at her cheerful and loud voice. You were certain to go deaf. “Hello to you too.” You readjusted the blanket around your body and fell back on the couch with a long and tired sigh. "You sound happy."

“That’s because I am.”

“And do I want to know why?”

“I bet you do.” It was your first clue on what she was about to say.

“So, you know how I work for this IT company? Well, my boss’s secretary is on unlimited sick leave and I gave your resume.”

I knew it.

“You did what?”

“When are you free? They want to meet you.”

To say that your aunt was eager for you to work in the same company as her would be the understatement of the century. She sounded happy, jumpy even and absolutely convinced that just by meeting you, they would agree to give you the job. You really admired her positivity and optimism but sometimes it wasn't enough.

You'll be fine.

You got startled as his voice echoed once more in your mind.

"Y/N?"

What if your aunt's sudden call was meant to happen? What if it was exactly what you needed? You never planned working as a secretary, it wasn't your dream job but it was a job like any other and it was definitely better than working at a bar. It was your chance, an opportunity you couldn't ignore and you wouldn't.

"Listen Y/N. I understand that it might not be your dream job-"

"I'm in." You cut her before she could start listing all the reasons why you should take your chance. There was no need for it, you had made up your mind.

I will be fine.

"It might be interesting." Then she paused, your words finally dawned on her. "What?"

"I said, I'm in."

"Wow." She chuckled to herself and you heard her pushing a chair and probably slumping into it. "Who are you and what did you do to my rebellious niece? Should I call the cops?"

You actually laughed at that. In her shoes you would have been surprised too with how fast you agreed. Another day, you would have been surprised too.

"Still in there."

"I'm surprised."

"I want things to change." You admitted, pouring all your hope in your voice.

"Oh I believe they're just about to."

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

Despite your aunt working for the same company for over ten years, you had never (not even once) set foot inside the building. It was huge, massive, impressive. It was a seventy floor building and without a doubt the view from up there must be breathtaking. People were going in and out of the building, looking all so concentrated but looking like some models. You were impressed, really, and it wasn't that hard imagining your aunt working in such environment, it was perfect for her. But would it be good for you? There was only one way to find out.

"Come on Y/N. You can do it." You told yourself.

At the reception desk you were given a visitor badge. The woman at the reception was nice enough not to judge your outfit, instead she gave you a warm, reassuring smile and explained you where you needed to go. You thanked her and went for the lift; you had your interview on the fiftieth floor and someone was supposed to be waiting for you.

When the doors opened you were welcomed with your aunt's radiant, eternal smile. "Y/N!" Without letting you time to react, she pulled you in her arms for a tight embrace, almost breaking your bones. From the outside your aunt looked frail, but you knew better than to judge. Yes, she was slim and petite but those who knew her, remembered perfectly her five years of boxing.

"I can't breathe." You coughed and patted her arm which only made her laugh. She took a step back, her hands remained on your shoulders as she eyed you from head to toe, judging your attire.

Here comes the disappointed look. "Stop it."

"Stop what?"

"You look like you're about to scold me."

"Wouldn't dare." She said but her face said differently. You arched a brow at her ready to share a piece of your mind but your aunt beat you at it. She rose her arms in defeat. "Fine. Fine. You win."

You smirked proudly.

"I didn't have anything better to wear." You looked down at your outfit. "It's not even that bad." But your aunt didn't seem to agree.

"Come on. You're going to meet your maybe future boss."

"Boss?"

"Yes. My boss wants to meet you."

You were completely rooted to the spot. It was one thing to prepare yourself for the interview but it was another to know that you would be facing right away your possible future boss. Suddenly, you weren't so confident. What if he didn't like you? What if you were too confident? Too hopeful? With this realization, your face paled.

Seeing you weren't following her, your aunt stopped in her track and glanced at you. She didn't need to ask what was wrong, it was written all over your face. She smiled fondly at you and got back to you, taking your hands in hers. "Don't worry, dear. You'll be alright." She gave your hands a gentle, reassuring squeeze before resuming walking. And this time you followed her.

Your aunt brought you to an empty meeting room, too big for two. There was a huge round table, a big white screen on the wall and a tall weeping fig in the corner.

"Take a seat. He should arrive shortly."

"Why am I meeting him so soon?" You asked, nervous, as you chose your seat.

"He said that since it would be someone close to him, he wanted to be the one to chose the right person." She explained. "His current secretary is nice." You didn't believe her. "But a tiny bit shallow."

"And how is he? "

Her face suddenly shone brightly. "He's a very interesting young man."

Now you were interested.

"He's brilliant, clever, a genius actually. He seems to know everything and sometimes I wonder if he can read our minds. Nobody can lie to him."

You should have googled him and made some research about the company but you worked more on your experience or lack of it in your case, your qualities and your flaws. You felt your palm starting sweating; you rubbed your hands against your thighs but it didn't help much.

"He's hot too." Your aunt added. "If only I was ten years younger." She sighed dreamily which actually made you chuckle. "Oh mock me all you want. You'll see by yourself."

"If you say so."

"Good luck." Then, she left you alone. Alone with your thoughts and your rising stress. There was absolutely nothing that could go wrong you tried to convince yourself. You came to the interview with your convictions and your being. You had nothing to lose and everything to gain.

You can only crawl up.

He was right.

With this thought on mind, you relaxed a little, your heart slowing down. In your head, you started repeating the speech you had prepared for your self-introduction. You repeated all the arguments you prepared in case of questions about your experiences but all of it was thrown out the window the moment the boss stepped in the room. Your mind froze, so did your body.

This…It can't be. Then thoughts started racing, screaming in your head. How, why was the man from the bridge standing before you?

"Hello miss L/Y/N. Sorry for making you wait. I'm Park Jimin." He introduced himself and you couldn't help but simply stare at him, your brain refusing to comprehend his simple words.

"Park Jimin?" You repeated without really realizing what you were saying until it was too late. You coughed awkwardly before standing up abruptly from your place to meet him. "Sorry- I mean, nice to meet you."

Jimin only chuckled at your reaction and offered his hand that you hurried to shake. You couldn't get any more awkward, you thought, and yet you did. You stumbled on your way to reach for his hand, scolding yourself for being so clumsy when you were supposed to be composed and confident. Failure number one of the day.

"Sorry. I'm usually not like this." You felt the need to justify yourself.

Jimin shook his head, smiling at you. "Happens every time."

Cocky bastard.

He arched a brow and your aunt's words echoed in your mind. "I wonder if he can read minds." You hoped not.

"Relax. I promise, I'm inoffensive." He joked and showed you your seat. "Most of the time." And he sat across from you.

His attempt at making you at ease almost worked. You were of course still stressed, how could you not when such a handsome man (the same man that saved you) was sitting across from you. But it was better. Maybe working with such an easy going person wouldn't be too bad. If what he showed right now was the real him of course.

You stared at him for a while, wondering if you should let him start or if you should do it yourself. You had only two job interview in your life and none of them were very representative of real life. But this? It was even weirder.

"I-" You started but were cut by Jimin.

"What do you like in life, Y/N. Can I call you Y/N?"

You blinked, confused with him and his questions. "Sorry?"

"If it's too much-"

"No." You cut him this time, "Please, call me Y/N."

Jimin's grin widened, satisfied. "Good."

"As for my hobbies…" You paused, thinking about your hobbies. What were they? Nobody had ever asked you about them and you had never really given a thought either. You enjoyed many simple things in life: a good book, when you weren't working you would be spend your time laying on your couch wrapped in a fluffy blanket and a book. You loved music, but then, many people did too. You loved going for long night walks, especially on summer days when after a long and warm (not to say suffocating) day you could finally get lost in the streets and enjoy the fresh air. Cooking was another of your hobby, but did Jimin really want to know such a silly thing about you?

"You're overthinking." Jimin cut your trail of thoughts, his voice still as gentle and soft as you remembered it from that night on the bridge. You got the goosebumps just at his voice but at least it stopped you arguing with yourself and you looked back at him. "Say what comes first to your mind. Nothing is silly."

"I wonder if he can read minds." You wanted to ask how could he know what exactly you were thinking about but refrained yourself. For now.

"It depends on my mood. One week I'd say it's reading. Another week I'd say cooking. And another week I can say getting lost in a city by night. I don't know if those are my hobbies, but those are the things I enjoy a lot."

"Interesting."

"Is it?"

"I saw your resume, Y/N. I don't care about your lack of experience." He crossed his fingers, your eyes followed the gesture, noticing a silver ring on his middle finger. "You will learn the job and I believe you can do it fast. What I do care about is to get to know you. If you're hired, you will spend quite a lot of time with me and I better make it easy for both of us. Would be bad if we don't get along, don't you think?"

"Then, what do my hobbies tell about me?" You asked, genuinely curious.

"A lot actually. You like reading which means you are eager to learn more. You said you like cooking? It means you are a creative person who can improvised, it can be very useful. Does it sound like you?"

"I can say yes and you wouldn't know if I'm lying or not." Maybe provoking your possible boss wasn't your brightest idea but he said himself that it was all about getting to know each other and if he wanted to know who you were then, you wanted to know who he was too.

"I don't think you would lie to me." He deadpanned.

"How would you know?"

"I have a feeling."

"And do you always trust your feelings?"

"I do."

"Interesting." You used his own words against him and it made him smile proudly before leaning back against his chair.

"Fine. You're right. I have nothing to gain by lying." You raised your hands in absolute defeat, nevertheless you were amused. "What else do you want to know?"

"How about, what do you want to know about me, Y/N?" Jimin asked.

Indeed, what did you want to know about him? Many things. Was it really him that night on the bridge? You swore it was. And yet, despite being face to face with him, not even once he showed any sign of recognition. It bothered you, you realized. You wanted to ask and yet you couldn't find the courage to ask him in fear to sound crazy. If it was real, wouldn't he have said so?

"Is your secretary really on sick leave?" You weren't sure where this question was coming from but you were curious. If getting along with his secretary really mattered, then how could he get along with someone shallow? According to your aunt of course.

Jimin quirked a brow, obviously taken aback by your question and for a short second you regretted asking but you remained composed. For once. Then, and to your biggest surprised, Jimin laughed. A big, loud laugh that made your body relax, in relief. Or was it something else?

"What makes you say that?"

"Something about your current secretary being shallow."

He laughed again. A very melodic and a tiny bit contagious laugh. You put your hand over your mouth to hide a smile. "That she is. I guess, since you decided to be so honest with me, I should be too."

"Will you now?"

"Yes. You're right. She's on sick leave but not for long. Once she comes back, she's moving to marketing department. She'll be more useful to the marketing director."

"That's drastic."

"She knows why I'm doing this. She saw it coming."

You bit on your lips to prevent yourself from asking more, it was none of your business and you weren't sure knowing about his secretary would make a difference for your future.

"What do you aspire in life, Y/N?" Jimin suddenly asked, his gaze piercing, making you gulp hard.

This question you didn't need to think hard. "This one is simple." You looked at him, confident. "To be happy."

"Well. Let's see what we can do."

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

"Nervous?" Your aunt met you at the reception desk with a huge grin plastered on her face. Of course she was already well awake, had her coffee and looked fresh in her black dress and too shiny jewelry. Which was definitely not your case.

Did you get any sleep ever since you received the final call? Barely. You were excited, eager, it was a fresh start, new life but at the same time you were stressed, doubting suddenly yourself and your skills. Were you suited for this job? Jimin thought you were and you held to his opinion.

You thanked the lady at the reception who gave you your personal badge and looked at your aunt. Just one look at her and you knew she was excited for you and was probably even more happier than you for this new job. Her smile was radiant and warm just like a very proud mother. She reminded you a lot of your mother, especially today.

"A little." You admitted and joined her to the other side of the barrier.

"Just a little?" She didn't sound convinced and you couldn't blame her, you weren't fully convinced either.

"Fine." You raised your hands in defeat. "I'm hella stressed, happy?" But despite your words, you smiled.

She chuckled. "Is it about the job or Jimin?"

You paused on your way and actually considered her words. "Both?"

"Thought so." She let you get inside the lift first before following you inside and pressing for the last floor. "You don't need to worry about Jimin. You won't see him much this week."

Comforting.

"Ever since your interview with him, he took the liberty to make some changes." Your aunt started, looking intensely at you and checking for any reactions.

"What do you mean?"

"Well for instance your personal office is on his floor which wasn't Eunhee's case. I guess all this time he just wanted to avoid her at all cost - not like I can blame him. I'm sure he got rid of her because she crossed a line."

"So you really knew she wasn't on real on sick leave?"

Your aunt paused before shrugging. "I talk a lot with Jimin."

"Damn, are you crushing on your boss?"

"If only I was younger!" She lamented dramatically.

You both laughed at that. Without a doubt, your aunt was really fond of Jimin and it wasn't hard to understand.

"On more serious note, he's very human and understanding which wasn't my previous boss's case." She admitted. "He treats his people right. Everybody likes him."

You kept your mouth shut but silently agreed with her. Jimin did sound very human.

"I'll show you around and will introduce you to some nice people. I'm sure you'll get along with my protegé, Yunji."

"Depends. Is she as loud as you?" She nudged you playfully in response. "Sorry, sorry."

"Oh I know you and your sorry! Doesn't work on me." She feigned being upset but the more she tried to bite back her smile and the more her eyes shone betraying her. "Fine. Yes, Yunji is a little loud but she's very nice and friendly. I'm sure you'll like her."

"We'll see." But despite your nonchalant reply, you were pleased and comforted at the idea of meeting new people and make friends.

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

Ever since your first visit, you imagined the view you would get from the last floor - and you were right, it was beautiful. You didn't even pay attention the place, instead you went straight for the windows to admire the view. The city laid before your eyes, noisy, agitated but still beautiful. I can get used to it.

"Nice view right?" Your aunt's voice came from behind her. You didn't look back but you nodded your head. "Luckily for you, your desk is just beside so if you ever get bored you can always admire the view."

"I doubt I'll get bored."

You turned to face your aunt but instead of looking at her, you finally realized how huge the floor was. Too spacious for one person in your opinion.

"This is your work place." Your aunt pointed at the desk. Feel free to decorate it. You have almost the whole floor for yourself- obviously the other half is Jimin's." And then she pointed at the door. "And behind the door is Jimin's office."

You nodded, your eyes lingering a little longer than needed on Jimin's door. Was he inside? You wondered.

"He's not in there." She got you startled, caught like a deer. "It's written all over you face."

You huffed but didn't comment, instead your attention was grabbed by a cup of coffee on your desk. You quirked a brow, surprised but delighted at the sight. Coffee was very much appreciated. But then, along with the cup, you spotted a small pink note.

"I'm looking forward to work with you. -Jimin"

All your anxiety vanished at those simple words. You smiled to yourself and took a sip of your coffee. It was strong, without sugar, just how you liked it.

"Well, aren't you lucky?" Your aunt read the note. "Your boss makes you coffee. I'm jealous."

"And a good one."

"Now I'm really jealous." But she laughed. "Are you ready? I guess you weren't told that I'd be the one teaching you this week."

"You?" It was good news, after all, starting at a new place with someone you knew was comforting, but at the same time knowing your aunt, it was terrifying. You loved your aunt, you really did. But you weren't sure you would survive her energy.

But you did.

Hardly.

But you did. By the end of your first week, you learnt everything you needed to know. You learnt as much as you could about the company, met as many people as you could. It was a lot to process but it was interesting and instructive. By the end of the week, you realized that maybe Jimin was right about yourself. You got along pretty easily with your aunt's colleagues such as Yunji who welcomed you with opened arms (and didn't miss her chance to admit how great you were compared to the previous secretary).

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

On Friday night, instead of going home like you were used to do, you accepted your aunt's invitation to go out for a drink. It was refreshing and relaxing. Your aunt went straight for a mojito, asking it to be strong while you played it safe and went for a beer.

"Cheers." Your aunt raised her freshly made glass and you clinked your bottle against her glass.

You took a sip of your beer, enjoying the bitter taste but what you enjoyed even more was your aunt's company. Not long ago you would have declined her offer, but tonight it felt right. Tonight it felt good.

When you looked around, you spotted few familiar faces; some you met on your small breaks, some you were introduced to. Minwoo from IT was chatting lively with Solji from human resources. Yunji was openly flirting with a guy you didn't remember seeing around but she seemed pleased and pretty much into him.

"Is it me or this is our company's lair?" You asked

Your aunt followed your gaze and her smile widened at the sight of some colleagues. "Yes. We like coming to this bar. Their drinks are always good, the atmosphere is very nice and it's close to the building so we can go straight to the bar after work." She, then, paused to take a sip. "Jimin comes with us from time to time."

You pretended not being interested about this piece of information that was indeed you were interested. It wasn't hard to imagine Jimin among the others, drinking, laughing with them. You tried to hide your smile by taking another sip but you believed it didn't quite work.

"We had a private party here for my birthday."

"Aren't you lucky."

"I know."

Your aunt stared at her glass, deeply lost in her thought which was a rather unusual sight but you let her be and instead turned around on your seat to watch the people around you. Yunji, this time, spotted you too; she raised her glass to greet you and you mirrored her action, smiling.

"There is something I was meant to ask you but I didn't find the right moment to do it." Your aunt started.

You looked at her, curious. "What is it?"

"What made you change your mind so drastically? You changed." You frowned at her question but she was quick to add, "I mean, not long ago you were avoiding me. You were in your own bubble, not letting people in. I know you were unhappy."

You stayed silent and looked everywhere but at her. Her words were true, you knew it but they brought back the memory of that night, the night you first met Jimin. The night your life took a very odd turn.

"I was miserable." You admitted, your voice weak and barely audible but she heard you. "I was tired. Tired of people taking me for granted. I realized I was better alone but maybe I just gave my trust to the wrong people."

"Then what changed?"

"I met someone one night." You had Jimin on mind. You still didn't know if that night on the bridge was real; Jimin confused you as he didn't mention your first encounter. But your tired mind couldn't have made up all of it. You turned to look at your. "I had reached the bottom but he made me realize that I could do better. It was up to me to change my life. I want to get out of my comfort zone and see what I can do for myself."

"Interesting." She hummed to herself and then smirked. "Was it a guy?" You opened your mouth to answer but close it soon enough when her words fully hit you - you blushed. "So it is a guy!" She was all too happy, you realized. She leaned closer, invading all your personal space. "Is he cute? Or sexy? Or terribly dangerous?"

"You're impossible!" You pushed her gently away from you which only made her clap her hands and laugh loudly.

"What? You're young and beautiful! I'm surprised you're single."

"And you're the one talking."

"Touché."

"Hey, I was wondering." You started, trying to distract from a subject you weren't comfortable enough to talk about. Yet.

"Are you trying to change the subject?"

"No?"

"You so are."

"Fine! Fine!" You surrendered.

"What is it?"

"Isn't it weird how Jimin takes a week off at the last minute?"

"Oh that." To your utter surprise, instead of being taken aback with your question, she was nonchalant, almost as if she had expected you to ask. "He does it every now and then. It drove his secretaries crazy."

Odd.

"Probably family business." She added with a shrug. "Did you manage to clear his schedules?"

"Yeah. Some weren't too happy about it." Not to say some were extremely unpleasant but you didn't care; they weren't the one you were working for, their opinion didn't matter. "I'm going to get myself another beer. Do you want something?"

"I'm all good thanks."

You moved from your seat but you made barely two steps before bumping hard into someone. You didn't notice the guy, in fact it seemed he had appeared out of nowhere. Nevertheless the impact was strong enough to make you stumble and you would have fallen on the floor if it wasn't for two strong arms circling your body.

"Shit. I'm so sorry." A very deep and too pleasant voice reached your ears. "Are you okay?"

"Yes. No harm done." That was true until you took a step back to put some space between the man and you. You first noticed that he was taller than you but then when you properly looked at his face framed with black locks, beautiful deep eyes, something in you snapped. Your whole body tensed, your breath hitched in your throat while your heart beat faster, roaring in your ears. His face was all too familiar, a déjà vu. It wasn't the first time it felt this but it still confused you. Who are you?

"Y/N?" His face mirrored your own confusion and doubt written all over it. He opened his mouth and closed it almost immediately too stunned, unable to speak his mind.

"Excuse me but do I know you?" He knew your name and yet you couldn't remember where you had met or seen him before.

I wouldn't have forgotten such a face.

Your question, however, seemed to have woken him up from his trance. He took a step back, alarmed he bit on his lips. His sudden reaction to your question triggered you only more and unconsciously you took a step forward. There was something going on, something you seemed not remember and you didn't like how vulnerable it made you feel.

"I'm sorry." The young man whispered. You didn't heart it with all the noise around you but you read it on his lips. What was he sorry about, you weren't so sure.

"Wha-" But you couldn't finish your sentence; he turned his back and started getting away from you as far as he could. It took you off guard and by the time your body reacted it was too late. You launched yourself on his track, you had unanswered questions and you wanted answers. But it was too late. The young man had vanished from the place.

What was that?

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

Oddly enough, despite Jimin being away, every single morning you had a cup of coffee waiting for you on your desk. You didn't know how it was possible but your guess was Jimin asked someone to do it for him. It made your heart flutter every single time, brightening your day. A simple coffee was enough to help you to get through the day.

Without Jimin, the floor felt really empty but at least some of your new friends paid you visit every now and then.

"Heard anything from our boss yet?" Yunji asked you during your lunch break on Wednesday. It had been only three days but it seemed like you weren't the only one who missed Jimin's presence.

"Why should I?"

"Why indeed." Yunji wiggled her brows playfully. "I heard from a little bird that he leaves you a coffee every morning. I expected you to see him."

"I didn't though." You sighed, "I'm sure he asked someone to do it for him." Yunji only hummed. "I don't know why he keeps doing it."

"He sees your potential and knows you're a nice and interesting person."

"Is he so nice with everybody?"

"Almost. But especially with interesting people." She smiled proudly. "When I caught the flue, he actually asked his driver to get me home and to bring me medicine."

"Wow."

"There's a reason why he's so appreciated. But he treats you even better."

You closed your eyes for a second, trying not to give her words too much thoughts but they lingered on the back of your mind.

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

On Wednesday night, after a long, tiring but interesting day, you were glad to be back to the safety of your home with a warm cup of hot chocolate and Netflix on TV. What else could you wish for? Maybe someone to hug but for now you had your pillow and it was enough.

You were scrolling through the different trending movies on Netflix, looking for what could interest you. Your concentration, however, was soon broken when your phone rang. Your eyes still glued to the TV screen, you grabbed your phone.

Unknown number [8:30pm]: Are you free tonight?

You stared at the message, your face blank. You didn't recognize the number and usually you would either delete the message or wait for the person to send you another one with at least a name. This time, though, you found yourself typing an answer.

You [8:31pm] : Do I know you?

Unknown number [8:31pm]: Shouldn't you have your boss's number?

Your eyes widened in shock, you couldn't believe what you were reading. You reread the message three times, making sure your brain wasn't playing some trick - it wasn't.

You [8:32pm] : Jimin?????

Jimin [8:32pm]: This is how they call me.

You [8:33pm]: I mean, M.Park.

Jimin [8:34pm] : Jimin is fine. Especially when it's only the two of us.

Jimin [8:34pm]: So. Free tonight?

You [8:34pm] : As a matter of fact, I'm not.

Jimin [8:35pm] : Oh.

Jimin [8:35pm]: Too bad. I'm already waiting for you. downstairs.

You jolted from the couch, your phone in your hand, you opened the window-door to the balcony too fast and stepped outside. There was no way Jimin, this man, your boss, could be outside - but he was.

Jimin was leaning against his car, his head raised, watching, waiting for you, he knew you would check. He smirked proudly at your sudden appearance and waved his hand. You couldn't believe he was right there. It was an illusion. But even when you rubbed your eyes, he was still there. You didn't need to think twice before dialing his number. You could have been nice or polite or formal except your mind was going crazy and for a second you forgot that he was your boss - you yelled at him. "What the hell are you doing here?!"

Jimin only laughed. "You lied."

"What- Jimin."

"I like how my name sounds."

This was not how you imagined your conversation with Jimin going. Actually, scratch that, you didn't expect him to show up at your doorstep, uninvited mind you, and to ask you out when he was supposed to be out of town (according to rumors of course). His words took you (like it happened on many occasion now) off guard. It shouldn't, but it did.

"You can't say that." You groaned, feeling your heartbeat speed up.

"Why did you lie, Y/N?" He asked more calmly. He was calm but not in a bad way, nor did his question sounded like a reproach, probably because he already knew your answer. You were easy to read and he enjoyed it.

"I- This is just too weird." You admitted with a long and tired sigh as you leaned against the balcony ledge. Your grip on your phone only tightened when you looked back at him. You thanked god and all other divinities for it being dark outside and making it impossible for Jimin to see that despite your calm attitude, your cheeks had turned pink.

"Is it? I don't see why." Now he sounded playful and even from afar you spotted the ghost of a smirk on his handsome face. He was teasing you.

"You're impossible." You huffed before chuckling in defeat. No. Jimin wasn't an illusion, he was really downstairs, waiting for you.

"So I was told." He approved before adding "Are you free?"

A part of you, a very tiny part of you screamed at you to say no. No matter how nice Jimin was, he was still your boss and there was a line you didn't want to cross, unless of course you needed some more drama in your life. But a very big part of you was completely smitten with him, wanting nothing more than to join him downstairs and get to know him better.

You're insane Y/N. But even that thought didn't help.

"Ugh. Fine." You surrendered "On one condition."

"Anything."

I'm fucked.

"No fancy restaurant. I look like a potato beside you."

Jimin giggled at the comparison, making your insides melt at the sound.

It's a very bad idea. But you were a professional when it came to bad decisions.

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

Jimin listened to your request and instead of bringing you to some fancy restaurant he brought you to a small restaurant that according to him had the best samgyeopsal - you were in heaven and suddenly felt all too happy accepting his offer.

You eyed the sets before you, meat, different side dishes and of course he had ordered some soju.

"Are you planning to get me drunk, Jimin?" It surprised you how easily you managed to call him by his name. It shouldn't have been so easy but it was - it felt natural and right.

"Why would I?" He wiggled his brows playfully at you. "It will just help you to ease up around me. Forget that I'm your boss for tonight."

"You're weird." You deadpanned. That was not what you wanted to say but it came out anyway.

"Am I?"

"In a way, yes. You're too nice."

"Is it a crime being nice now?"

"Weren't you supposed to be out of town?" Instead of answering him you chose to go for another question that was bothering you.

"I never said I would be out of town." He replied while pouring soju in your glass. "I had some business but I thought it would be nice to see you too."

If it was supposed to comfort you, it didn't quite work. You stayed silent, staring at him with a blank face, trying to read through him. But you couldn't. Jimin was a mystery but a mystery you actually wanted to explore.

"Fine." You took your glass and raised it towards him. "Let's do it. Let's talk and get to know each other better."

"Perfect." And he clicked his glass against yours before quickly emptying his glass in one go.

"Do you actually invite all your employees for a drink to get to know them?" You asked sincerely curious as to why he wanted so badly to meet you.

"We already started? Damn I'm too slow!"

You rolled your eyes, "Jimin!"

Jimin winked playfully, unfazed with your fake annoyance. "Fine. No, I don't."

Then why me you wanted so badly to say but you bit on your tongue. Seeing how playful Jimin was, you were convinced he wouldn't give you his reasons and instead would tease you.

"When you'll meet Eunhee and I'm sure you will, you'll understand why I didn't invite her."

"Are you reading my mind?" You hoped not.

Jimin chuckled at your question and poured some more soju in your glasses. "You're just easy to read, Y/N."

"If you say so." You weren't fully convinced.

Jimin, like a good host, was the one to grill the meat, to fill your glass and at some point was the one who prepared the perfect wrap for you. It was confusing, endearing and you couldn't help but feel flustered whenever he would hand you a perfectly made wrap.

"Whose task is it to bring me my coffee while you're away?"

"Isn't it my turn to ask?"

You sulked in response even if he was absolutely right. You crossed your arms over your chest, waiting for his question, dreading it. "Fine."

"Are you seeing someone?"

You expected everything except this question. Your brain froze as you stared intensely at Jimin. He was not normal.

"Should it be something my boss ask?"

"Why not?"

You lowered your gaze, unable to look him in the eye and instead prepared yourself another wrap. You could feel his intense gaze on you, waiting for your answer - he was really waiting for it. You were tempted to fight back but resisted the urge for your own sake.

"No. I'm not. You?"

"Am not." He replied, surprising you.

You forgot all about your food with his answer and watched him, looking for any sign of lie. "I don't believe you."

"How come?" He laughed

"Have you seen your face?"

"Why yes! This morning."

Without a doubt, he was testing your patience. I'm going to smash his head. You didn't of course. "Don't make me say it."

"But I kinda want to hear it." You decided to shut him up by shoving your freshly made wrap in his mouth. He blinked, surprised with your reaction and this time you were the one chuckling at his face.

Jimin chewed on his wrap, regaining his composure too fast for your liking, his mischievous smile was back. He took his cup and just before emptying it, he added, "I didn't assign anyone to bring you coffee. I did it."

Oh boy. You were in trouble.

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

Working for and with Jimin was easier than you thought. Yes, your days were hectics and yes you were initially scared after that night at the restaurant, you didn't want you relationship to get awkward. It didn't. Jimin stayed professional, being very official whenever you were among others but once there was only the two of you, he would get playful, teasing you. If at first it bothered you, now you were completely used to it and you played his game.

Jimin [10:40am] : Is there a chance you can cancel all the upcoming meetings for the year with Kang? No. Not a year. Till he retires.

Did you mention that Jimin's new hobby was to text you whenever he got bored at meetings? You chuckled at his message.

You [10:40am]: No. Concentrate please.

Jimin [10:41am]: But I'm bored!!

Jimin [10:41am]: Do you know how hard it is to keep concentrated with what he's saying?

You [10:42am]: M.Park, you're impossible.

Jimin [10:42am]: Are you frowning?

You [10:42am]: I'm desperate, yes.

Jimin [10:45am] : Oh come on! Entertain me!

You [10:45am]: Excuse you but I have work to do!

Jimin [10:46am] : Your boss won't blame you if you don't do your work.

You [10:48am]: Stop distracting me!

Jimin [10:49am]: If you didn't want to talk to me, you would have ignored me though.

Touché. +1 for Jimin, 0 for you. But you did exactly what he suggested: you ignored him for the rest of the meeting.

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

You were going through your mails, concentrated, wanting to make sure not to miss out the most important ones. On the background you heard the doors of the lift opening, but you didn't pay attention to it, after all why would you? Many visitors would come to the floor whenever it was to pay you a visit or to see Jimin. You came, however, to regret not paying attention to your surroundings, it would have spared you to look a tiny bit stupid.

You were peacefully reading an e-mail, an invitation to an event when someone beside you cleared its throat - it was a man, you guessed by the sound of it. Startled, you looked up and regretted bitterly not doing it earlier. You knew this face, this man, you had seen him before and this time you remembered where you had seen him. It was the man from the bar and just like the first time, he looked completely panicked and surprised to see you here. Just like you were. What was he doing here was beyond your comprehension.

"You." You pointed a finger at him, "How - no, what are you doing here?"

The said man only blinked, lost in his own thoughts till you snapped your finger to grab his attention. He jumped at the sound and took a step back to put some more space between him and your desk, scared of what you could do.

"What are you doing here?" You repeated more calmly this time.

"I'm-" He started, not really sure of what he was supposed to say. Fortunately for him, he was saved before he could start explaining.

"Taehyung!"

Jimin came out of his office, looking panicked, his eyes darting back and forth between you and the said Taehyung. You quirked a brow at him, waiting for an explanation but instead Jimin went straight to Taehyung and hugged him tightly.

"I didn't expect to see you so soon!" Jimin patted his back before letting go of him. "When did you get back?"

More you looked at them and more suspicious and weird they were. You couldn't pinpoint what exactly bothered you. "Jimin?"

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I know I have a meeting. Can you tell them I'm going to be late?"

You opened your mouth to protest, to remind him that he was supposed to present his project but this Taehyung's presence clearly disturbed him.

"They won't like it."

"Start without me. I'll be quick. I promise."

"What."

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

The meeting could have been a disaster. It was one thing to follow Jimin around, to help him preparing this project, to prepare this presentation but it was a whole new experience to be thrown under the spotlight. You waited for Jimin to join you but he never did. Only two options were left: cancel the meeting and probably say sayonara to the project that Jimin and you had worked your ass off or you could present it. You wanted to run away, to save yourself but the image of Jimin working so hard prevented you from doing it.

You took a deep breath and stood from your seat. "Let's begin."

Funnily enough, nobody objected. Nobody questioned your ability to present the project. Maybe because some didn't expect much from you, maybe they didn't care but you took it as a good sign and chose to trust yourself.

You were surprised at how composed you stayed through the meeting. Confident, strong. You were able to present the project just like Jimin had planned. But not only that. When it was time for questions you managed, to your utter surprise, to answer most of them. And yet by the end of the meeting, you were relieved it was finally over.

"I must say." Director Kang was the last in the room. "I didn't expect you to nail this presentation."

You halted in your tracks and stared blankly at him, unsure of how you were supposed to interpret his words.

"No offense." He quickly added. "Jimin's secretaries usually are useless which clearly isn't your case. I'm sincerely impressed and I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one."

Your heart swelled with pride and you smiled, relieved. "Thank you. Do you think I convinced the others?" Despite his nice words you were worried.

"I bet you did. I'm convinced, so I'm pretty sure many others are too. Don't worry about it."

You exhaled in relief, you didn't let Jimin down. But the only thought of Jimin made you frown. Where the hell was he? You were angry with him for letting you down. You thanked, however, Director Kang, before leaving the room.

When you came back to your desk, there was no sign of Jimin. Or Taehyung.

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

"What do you want to have for lunch?" Your aunt asked you as the both of you were squeezed in the lift, eager to head out for lunch.

You thought for a second. "Sushi?"

"Good for me."

Your phone rang before you could get out of the lift, startling both you and your aunt and attracting very unwanted attention.

"Sorry." You apologized and yet when you saw the caller ID, you froze, staring at the name. Jimin.

Your aunt peeked over your shoulder, curious at what made you suddenly so silent and hesitate to answer. "Won't answer?"

You slowly turned your head to look at your aunt. "No." And you put back the phone in your bag, making sure to mute it.

"Did you just ignore your boss's call?" She teased you, not alarmed with your action, instead she was amused.

"Serves him right." You answered with a shrug. "Come on. I'm hungry."

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

Jimin [1:10pm] : Are you ignoring my calls on purpose, Y/N?

Jimin [1:25pm]: Y/N?

Jimin [1:30pm]: Seriously?

Jimin [1:35pm]: I'm sorry.

Jimin [1:45pm] : Please?

You sighed as you went through your messages. Jimin tried his best to reach you but you just didn't want to face him right now. It took you all effort in the world to type your message. Bitter.

You [2:00pm] : See you later M.Park

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

You knew it was childish and very unprofessional of you to be ignoring your boss. Luckily for you, when you came back from your lunch break he wasn't in his office which only help you to forget about him.

You pressed the cushion against your chest as you watched another episode of You. There was nothing better in the world than a chill night with Netflix. And pizza. A pizza that you were impatiently waiting for.

Despite your attempt at distracting yourself, you couldn't fully concentrate on your TV, your mind kept replaying the presentation and Jimin's message. Were you feeling guilty? A tiny bit. Or maybe more. You sighed and threw angrily away your cushion.

When the bell rang, you were already on your way to the hall. You forgot all about your misery and guilt and instead ran to get your pizza. Except it wasn't your pizza. Almost.

Jimin stood at your doorstep, holding your pizza that didn't look as tasty now that Jimin was here. You forgot to breathe, too taken aback with his unexpected visit.

"Hi." He said, smiling sheepishly at you and yet he looked nervous which was so out of character, you have to admit it.

You eyed the pizza, still hungry, and then looked back at Jimin. Pizza could wait five more minutes. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted - no. I needed to see you."

"It could have waited until tomorrow, no?"

"No." Oddly, you believed him?

"Can I come in?"

"Only if you give me my pizza."

Jimin chuckled but handed you your pizza that was still warm. You gladly accepted and let him inside. Jimin followed your steps, looking everywhere, eyes lingering on frames on the wall - it made him smile.

You put the pizza on the table and then turned back your attention on a very curious Jimin whose eyes were still glued to the pictures on the wall. You took the chance to observe him. He looked effortlessly good in his black jeans and white sweater, red coat, ashy hair pushed back.

How can somebody look that good? You quickly got rid of those dangerous thoughts before it was too late.

"How old are you on this picture?" Jimin pointed at a picture. Without even looking at it, you knew exactly which one it was.

"I was five."

"You were so cute." Then he looked at you. "Not like you aren't now."

Another time, and if you weren't still a little bit upset with him, you would have blushed at his words, but tonight you resisted (your heart, the sneaky little traitor still skipped a beat). "Flattery will get you nowhere, M.Park."

Jimin made a face, pouting that his natural charms didn't work on you. "Still mad huh." He sighed. "I'm sorry Y/N." He got closer to you. "Taehyung needed my help and I know I should have called you. I'm sorry."

"Why are you here, Jimin? Why are you apologizing?" You finally asked, meeting his eyes you shivered. How could you not forgive him when he was looking at you so intensely and with so much sincerity? "Let's be honest. You're my boss and I wasn't very professional with you. It was childish of me."

Jimin stopped your rambling by grabbing your hands, giving them a comforting squeeze. The touch sent a wave of electricity through your body, a touch that felt all too familiar - the image of that night on the bridge was back in your mind. Your eyes darted back and forth between your hands and his face.

"You didn't hire me because my aunt gave you my resume and you were interested, did you?"

Jimin kept quiet at your question which only confirmed your doubts. You weren't completely crazy, you didn't imagine that night, now you were sure of it. Gently, you pushed his hands away from yours. You weren't mad or disappointed. Far from it. But you had questions and you wanted answers whether Jimin was ready for it or not. You smiled at him, silently reassuring him as you went to take a seat at the table.

"Jimin?"

"It's not what you think." He finally said

"Then, enlighten me?" You asked, "Please."

Jimin ruffled his hair in frustration. He wasn't sure where and how to begin. There was so much he wanted to say and yet for once he was at loss of words.

"When I saw you that night on the bridge, you just looked so sad." He started, "I wanted to help you, to make you understand that things will eventually get better and they did, didn't they?"

You chose not to answer and waited for him to continue.

"When Yoojin told me about her niece looking for a job, I didn't expect it to be you. I didn't know until I saw the resume. Isn't it amusing?" He chuckled to himself as he remembered looking at your resume. "I thought it was a funny coincidence. I was looking for a new secretary and I thought why not try with you."

"Is it why you wanted to be the one to do the interview?"

"Partly. I don't regret hiring you. I wasn't wrong about you."

You knew Jimin was sincere about, you could tell it by the sound of his voice and his gaze, but your doubts remained. You looked down, avoiding his eyes just to give yourself some time to think. Jimin, however, was faster. He kneeled before you and slid a finger under your chin to make you look at him. His move took you off guard and you opened your mouth to protest but close it instantly, your voice stuck in your throat.

"I hired you because I knew you'd be perfect for the job." He insisted, frowning slightly. "And look at you. Was I wrong?"

Stubborn as you were, you refused to answer that but a smile threatened to spread on your face and it didn't go unnoticed by Jimin. He smirked in return and taped his finger against your chin before letting go of you.

"Kang called me. He told me how amazing you were during the presentation. Everybody approved of the project. It's all thanks to you."

You closed your eyes, relief washing over you. "I'm glad I didn't fail you."

"Fail me?" He laughed, "Even if you did, it would have been my fault. But you were amazing and proved me I did the right thing."

His words, undeniably, made you feel good. Even more. You felt proud and satisfied. There were still things you wanted to ask him, things he had avoided talking about but for now you accepted it.

"Stop doubting yourself, Y/N."

You huffed in response but a smile spread on your face, you were no longer able to stop yourself.

"And by the way, I don't consider you as only my secretary."

You knew where it was heading and before it could get any more embarrassing (especially for your heart), you took a slice of your pizza and shoved it in his mouth. "Shut up."

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

One Saturday afternoon, while you were busy cleaning your flat, you received a message from Jimin. Not like it was a weird occurrence. Ever since that night at your place, when he apologized, things had changed. You were still working for him, still covering for his absences (except this time you didn't need to cancel his meeting, you went instead). You still called him M.Park when surrounded (or when you were mad at him). And yet, you felt both of you had crossed a line. Jimin would text you randomly and most of the time it had nothing to do with work.

Jimin [3:20pm] : I know it's Saturday but I really need your help.

You [3:25pm]: What do you mean?

Jimin [3:25pm]: Well. I found a kitten a week ago and now she, Fluffy, lives with me.

Jimin [3:25pm]: And you know I'll be away for 2 days and I need someone to take care of her.

You [3:26pm]: I don't like where it's heading.

Jimin [3:27pm] : Pleeeeaaaase! Pretty pleeeeaaase!

Jimin [3:27pm]: Photo sent

Dealing with a pouty Jimin was one thing - you could deal with him. But a cute Jimin with a small white and fluffy kitten? Nope. You were devastated.

You [3:30pm]: I'm in.

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

"Are you going to Jimin's birthday party?" Yunji slumped on the empty chair near your desk and rolled closer to you. She put her elbows on the desk and rested her head on top of her hands, looking at you with too much (unwelcomed) interest.

"Of course she's going. She's his secretary." Mina approached you with her cup of coffee, looking as gorgeous as ever.

"Is there a meeting I wasn't aware of?" You asked knowing all too well what was about to happen. Jimin's birthday party had been the talk for the past two weeks. You avoided the subject at all costs but sometimes it was just too hard.

"You're going, aren't you?" Mina's frown actually scared you more than Yunji's enthusiasm. There was definitely something scary in her eyes and right now you were pretty worried to tell them the truth.

"I don't like your silence." Yunji commented

"I'm not going." You sighed

"Are you kidding me?" Yunji quite dramatically yelled and you flinched.

"You're close to him! And I'm not only talking about you being his secretary." Mina stated

"I can't." That was a big fat lie but they didn't need to know that. In fact, you had absolutely nothing planned for tonight but you didn't want to attend this party. Sure it could be fun with girls around but what terrified you was your newly found feelings for Jimin. It didn't really surprise you, you expected it to happen despite your attempts to prevent it. But Jimin was too strong and too likable. You liked him.

A lot. And not just because he was a charming boss. No, you liked him as a man. A man who made your heart beat faster. A man who made you smile every single day. A man that had changed your life. A man with a beautiful heart and soul.

Admitting to yourself that you liked him was one thing, confessing to Jimin was another - you couldn't.

"What do you mean you can't?" Mina looked truly offended. "You have to go!!"

"Does he know you're not coming?" Yunji asked more calmly than Mina. She glanced at her friend and with one simple look conveyed her message.

Those girls were terrifying.

"He knows."

"He must be disappointed."

"He's not." You lied.

He definitely was.

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

You were ready to call it a day when the lift opened and you saw your aunt with a huge black bag in her hand coming out. For once, she wasn't smiling which meant trouble for you (and you could guess pretty easily why she wore such a gloomy face). If Mina and Yunji weren't happy about your decision then your aunt was absolutely enraged at it. You gulped nervously as you let her approach you.

"I suppose, you didn't change your mind?"

"I didn't."

You expected another fit from her but instead she only sighed and handed you the big bag. You took it without looking what was inside (probably because you had an idea of what was inside).

"I know why you don't want to go."

Now that was a surprise. "Do you?" There was no way, you believed, she could know about what was troubling your mind and yet when she crossed her arms over her chest and looked with a knowing, purely motherly look, you hesitated. She couldn't know, you reassured yourself.

"I do." She confirmed. "You're scared he would see it. But you shouldn't worry."

Oh. She did know.

"Anyway. See you tomorrow."

"What." Your aunt had a bad tendency to leave you speechless. She winked playfully and went her way, leaving you confused and a tiny bit dumbfounded. What the hell was that? Then, you remembered the heavy bag she gave you. You put it on your desk and peeked inside.

Damn.

A dress and shoes. Of course your aunt didn't give up, she still hoped for you to change your mind. You should have known, she wasn't the type to give up without a fight, except this time she didn't argue with you and instead pulled out her last card from under her sleeve. You shook your head and chuckled with resignation.

The dress she chose for you was beautiful, you liked it immediately, love at first sight even. A black long dress, halter neck, sleeveless with a nice split on the right side. Your aunt had great tastes.

You glanced at Jimin office's door, he was still in there, you knew it. He should have left earlier (you were supposed too) everybody received the notice to get home earlier to get ready for tonight. But Jimin was a workaholic and especially ever since his project had been validated.

Should I go? A part of you screamed yes! But you were uncertain. Your determination, however, wavered after seeing the dress and hearing your aunt. Leaving all your belongings behind, you headed toward his door. There was no need knocking, he would know anyway it was you because you were the only one who never knock.

Jimin had his glasses on, running a hand through his hair, obviously frustrated with his work. You observed him without making a noise. You closed the door behind you and stayed there, your hand still on the handle while you pressed your back against the door. Your heart was hammering in your chest, roaring in your ears as you feared Jimin's mood. You knew beforehand that what you were about to ask him would give you away (if he listened closely). I must be crazy. It was risky but you hoped he wouldn't be able to read between the lines.

"Jimin?"

"Hm?" He hummed without looking at you.

Oh. He's still upset. Unconsciously your grip on the handle tightened and you bit on your lower lip, nervous.

"Jimin." You called for him again.

He ruffled his hair on more time before finally looking at you. At first, he looked upset, annoyed even, but the sight of you leaning against the door and looking anxious made him relax a tiny bit. His eyes softened. "What is it?"

Now that you had his attention, you shivered, your mind clouded, your voice stuck in your throat.

"Y/N?" He asked more softly

You took a deep breath. "Do you really want me to go to the party?"

Jimin blinked, obviously not expecting your question. "I-" he paused and chuckled. '"I thought it was obvious. Of course I do."

You exhaled in relief, a tiny smile spread on your lips. "Ok."

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

You had to admit that your aunt was talented in many ways. For instance, she had good taste. The dress she chose was not only pretty but suited you perfectly. You couldn't remember a single time where you looked this chic and felt so good and confident about yourself.

The venue where the party was held, just like expected, was huge and luxurious. You had the whole tenth floor of the hotel for yourself with a nice balcony and a beautiful view. It wasn't so hard, now that you were here, to understand why this party was the talk of the company and why so many people were just so eager to attend it. Free alcohol, free food, a rather pleasant music (though you didn't pay that much attention to the music), and tons of people wearing nice clothes. You were nervous and stood at the main entrance, not knowing what to do with your hands, your grip tightened on your bag and you took a deep breath to calm your growing anxiety. Did you make the right choice to attend the party? You were not so sure yet.

"Oh my god! Y/N!" Yunji almost ran when she spotted you.

You smiled, relieved to see a familiar and friendly face at the party.

"You came!" She looked all too excited to see you but her enthusiasm was contagious - it made you feel better. "Wow. You're so gorgeous! And this dress!" She took your hand and made you spin around, whistling in approval. "You look stunning!"

"So do you. "

"Oh is it Y/N?" You recognized Minhyuk’s voice. He approached you with two glasses of champagne and handed one to Yunji and one to you - you accepted gladly. You didn’t want to get drunk but a little help to relax was very welcomed.

You clinked your glass against Yunji’s while Minhyuk grabbed another one for himself from the waiter and clinked with you too.

"Cheers." He said and you all took a sip. "Jimin outdid himself with this party."

"He did! Have you seen him yet, Y/N?"

"No. Not yet."

"This man can’t be human." Minhyuk started. "I’m straight but I swear he makes me doubt my sexuality."

You actually laughed at that but it was soon replace with something else. You felt your hair standing up on the back of your neck; someone was watching you, intensely seeing how your body reacted.

"Oh." Yunji suddenly grinned at you. "Look at who’s staring."

You didn’t dare to move, too afraid to see the person. Minhyuk smirked and patted your arm half-encouraging you and half-mocking you. "He’s coming your way. See you later!"

You opened your mouth to protest and held them back but Yunji winked at you, wrapped her arm around Minhyuk’s and followed him around. Traitor.

"When you said ok, I didn’t really believe you would come."

You turned too fast, your heart missing a beat. Jimin always looked good but seeing him in a black suit, his hair pushed back - you hoped you weren’t drooling on the spot.

"Hi." You lamely said, mentally face-palming.

Jimin smiled widely. "You look beautiful."

His comment along with his dashing smile made you lose your words and blush. You could take compliments from your colleagues, you could definitely take them from your friends but from Jimin? You just wanted the floor to swallow you just so you wouldn’t make a fool of yourself. You cleared your throat, snapping from your contemplation before answering. "You’re not so bad yourself." When in fact you wanted to say you’re hot.

You thought he couldn’t surprise you anymore. And you certainly thought your face couldn’t get any redder, but when Jimin took a step closer to you and grabbed gently your hand, you felt your face taking an even darker shade of red. Your breath hitched in your throat as you stared at him without blinking, completely rooted to the spot. Jimin looked at you fondly, his thumb stroking slowly your hand.

"I’m really glad you’re here."

"You wanted me here." You managed to say. Slowly your eyes looked down to your hand. You thought it would stop him (you didn’t it to stop) but he didn’t.

"I did. I do."

"Jimin!" Director Kang interrupted you, startling you. You quickly got rid of Jimin’s hold on your hand (not so easily). "Oh. Y/N! You’re dashing, my dear!"

You simply nodded and took a step back to put some space between you and Jimin. He didn’t like it -he glanced quickly at you, frowning and giving you a disapproving look before smiling at Director Kang.

"There’s someone I want to introduce you to, Jimin." Director Kang said, too excited suddenly and looking way less intimidating in your opinion. "If you don’t mind, Y/N."

"Go ahead."

Jimin looked apologetically at you but you didn’t mind - it was his night and he was the host too and he was needed somewhere else.

"Sorry." He mouthed, glancing back at you as Kang led him to another group of people.

"Go." You mouthed back.

You couldn’t help but watch him from afar. Jimin was smiling brightly at people, seeming genuinely interested in whatever they were telling him. You knew Jimin was a very likable person, no sane person could resist his charming personality and his charisma, you couldn’t resist either. But tonight you could see the full extent of his popularity. So many came just to celebrate his birthday, it was lovely sight and all you could do was to smile to yourself and enjoy your glass of champagne.

You glanced one more time at Jimin before deciding to wonder around and maybe see some familiar faces. You emptied your first glass of Champagne but quickly grabbed a second one, thanking the waiter on your way.

You walked to the huge balcony to admire the sight. The night was still young and fresh. Not many ventured on the balcony, probably afraid to get cold. But to you, the temperature was perfect and just what you needed. You enjoyed the light breeze, fresh air and the calmness that this place offered.

"What is a lovely bird like you doing in a place like that all by yourself?" A deep and intriguing voice interrupted your peaceful contemplation.

So I wasn’t alone after all.

"Excuse me?" You looked at the man, confused. But when you saw him, a shiver ran down your spine. He was terribly handsome in his dark blue suit, white shirt with the first three buttons undone exposing a very nice skin.

What’s up with Jimin and attractive people? It was annoying. Kind of.

The handsome stranger smiled at your confusion, adorable dimples showing on his face and you had to fight back a very embarrassing squeal. You weren't supposed to act like a teenager, not at your age, but sometimes it was just too hard to control yourself.

"Rude of me. I'm Kim Namjoon, a very good friend of Jimin." He introduced himself.

"Well, isn't Jimin lucky." You mumbled instead of speaking your mind. "Please to meet you, Namjoon. I'm Y/N, Jimin's secretary."

"Oh you're his secretary? And here I thought you were a friend."

You guessed, in a way, you were his friend too. Jimin and you were spending just too much time talking whenever it was at work or outside. So maybe you were friends but it wasn't something Namjoon needed to know. Actually, it was a secret you wanted to keep for yourself.

Namjoon approached you, holding a glass of champagne too, and once close enough raised his glass to clink with yours. Oddly enough you did without a single moment of hesitation. You smiled at the gesture and took a sip of your drink before darting your eyes back to the splendid view spreading before your eyes.

"Beautiful right?" He pointed at the noisy and shiny city laying before you.

"Yeah."

"So, why are you hiding?"

"Straight to the point huh."

"Not really, no."

"I'm exploring. This place is huge and beautiful and the balcony is just one step." You explained, glancing quickly at the doors leading back to the main room. Your reply was half true - yes you were exploring but the balcony seemed way nicer than the inside.

"Is that so." He hummed. "I'm sure Jimin will join you soon enough. Despite him being very sociable, he likes it quiet too and this place is perfect."

His comment grabbed your attention. It took you a lot of effort not to turn your head and to look at him and ask for what else he was willing to share with you.

"I don't want to play a troublemaker but it seems that Jimin is very fond of you, isn't he?"

If you were still drinking, you would have undoubtedly choked on your drink. It was one thing your aunt had noticed something but hearing it from a supposed close friend of Jimin bothered you. Namjoon, despite your silence, seemed to have noticed your confusion and panic. "I've known him for a very long time. Don't be surprised. Jimin was never very good at hiding how he feels about someone."

Maybe but you weren't convinced. "Jimin is friendly with everybody." You recovered from your initial surprise but refused to fully face him just in case your body would decide to betray you again.

"That he is. But I've known him long enough to see when he appreciates someone for their good work or for their friendliness. You, however, is a very different case."

You frowned, your heart was roaring in your ears, wanting nothing more than to believe his words but your rational part shoved those hopes away.

"Why are you really here, Namjoon?" You asked, turning your head to look at him. "What are you trying to do?"

"You like him too, don't you?" You kept silent which only made him chuckle. "Don't answer that, I already know the answer. Don't worry, it's not something normal people can see. "

It was nice to hear but it didn't make you feel any better.

"As for what I'm trying to do, let's say knowing Jimin, he won't make a move without some help."

"No." You shook your head. "You're not making sense."

"You'll see." He pointed at you with his glass before taking another sip and averting his eyes to the city. Namjoon closed his eyes and inhaled sharply. It felt too nice outside. "As for what I'm doing here, I have a present for the birthday boy. A present he long deserved."

"Will you tell me what is it?" You asked when in fact deep inside something told you he wouldn't.

And you were right. Namjoon simply wiggled his brows playfully at you and smiled. Those stupid dimples. You huffed, feigning being upset which only made him laugh harder.

"You're an interesting woman, Y/N."

"I'm not so sure about that but thank you."

Namjoon emptied his glass in one go, not like there was much left, and then took another step towards you. It took you by surprise. He took you hand gently, making you gasping at his gesture. He was a stranger and you weren't used to strangers being so nice and touchy with you. And yet, you didn't complain or push him away, you let him.

"I'm glad I could make it tonight. And I'm absolutely delighted to meet you." He took you one more time by surprise when he lowered his face to your hand and kissed it.

You were completely rooted to the ground, watching him silently, not understanding anymore what he was saying. This man was another weird fellow, just like this Taehyung and just like Jimin. No wonder they are friends.

"What are you doing here, Namjoon?" Jimin's voice broke the spell. You blinked madly and instantly took your hand away from Namjoon. You realized too late how it could have looked to Jimin and how rude you were to Namjoon. You felt bad and Namjoon seemed to have sensed it. He didn’t look at his friend and instead smiled at you, reassuring you with his gentle eyes that he understood and you didn’t need to fret about something so silly.

"Oh Jimin!" Namjoon began before facing him, hands in his pockets and looking too smug for Jimin’s liking (at least you thought so when Jimin started frowning and looking a tiny bit nervous which was so unlike him). "Long time no see!"

"What are you doing here, Namjoon?"

You observed silently the definitely weird conversation displaying before you. If at first you thought Jimin looked nervous, now you were positive he looked threatened and for a second you wondered if this Namjoon was really his friend. You looked for Jimin’s eyes, wanting to grab his attention, to understand the situation but his eyes were glued to the man standing next to you.

"Isn’t it obvious? I couldn’t possibly miss your birthday." He explained with a chuckle. "Again."

Jimin’s scowl only deepened. "Really?"

"Relax, Jimin. I’m really here for your birthday. I brought you present too." Namjoon walked toward Jimin, stopping only when he was by his side. He put his hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze, he leaned closer to him. "A present you long deserved." He glanced at you, smiling, before looking back at Jimin. "You’ll see it later."

Namjoon patted his shoulder affectionately and resumed his walking. But before leaving the balcony, Namjoon halted in his track, remembering that you were still watching them. He looked at you and waved his hand. "It was a pleasure finally meeting you, Y/N." And with that he left you.

Jimin stayed lost in his thoughts for a moment. He appeared to be looking at you but his eyes were empty - he was really there. You hesitated. What were you supposed to do now? Your body moved on its own, stopping only when you stood before him. Shakily, you raised your hand to touch him but before you could do it, Jimin grabbed it, his grip strong but painless.

"Ji-Jimin?" You stuttered, tensed with his behavior.

When Jimin finally snapped from his trance, his looks softened and his grip got lighter. He moved his fingers to intertwine them with yours, stunning you before he brought your hand to his face and kissed your knuckles. Once, twice - your heart was ready to explode.

"Can I bring you home?" He breathed and brought your hand to his lips one more time. "Please?"

You couldn’t look anywhere else than at him, heart pounding in your chest, fluttering under his soft gaze and his request. Without hesitation, you answered, "Yes."

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

You woke up that morning to the feeling of someone playing with your hair. A small smile spread on your lips as the memories of last night came back to you. You turned to the side, wrapping an arm around Jimin’s chest, you moved closer to him, resting your head on his chest.

"Morning." He breathed and leaned closer to peck your lips.

Your grin grew only bigger as you rested your hands on his chest and your head on your hands, you stared a little too much at this perfect man lying beside you. It was really hard not to stare when he looked so sweet, so handsome with his messy hair, such a contrast from last night.

"Slept well?" He kept stroking your hair.

Now that he asked you, you realized just how rested you felt. You never slept that well. You nodded your head and planted a kiss on his chest. "Thank you."

Jimin chuckled, "Is that so?" He looked proud and smug about it and you couldn’t even blame him for that.

You stayed in the same position for a while, enjoying each other’s’ presence. For once, nothing urged you to leave the bed and go back home - Jimin seemed to share your thoughts. He started humming a song, that would have lulled you back to sleep if it wasn’t for your feelings. That night with Jimin was magical and for the first time ever you felt whole and happy. But was it his case? You hoped so.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

"I’m thinking about last night." You admitted but avoided his eyes. Maybe you were overthinking but telling him how you felt was pretty terrifying.

"Do you regret it?"

"What?" You raised your head, taken aback while Jimin looked genuinely worried. "No!" It didn’t seem to convince him. You sighed in defeat; maybe it was time for you to be honest with him and with yourself and do the right thing.

With a swift move of your hips you straddled his hips. Not your wisest move since you sat right on his dick. You inhaled sharply at the feeling of his semi-hard cock under you. You bit on your lips, trying to control yourself and not to move, instead you cupped his face with your hands and kissed his lips. "Of course I don’t regret it, Jimin. Why would why when I caught feelings for you?"

Jimin blinked furiously, opened his mouth to say something but closed it right away which only made you chuckle nervously. You kissed his right cheek and then the left one before pecking his nose. "I like you a lot."

"You do?" He asked dumbfounded

"Duh."

"Is that so?" He said more to himself than to you. All traces of worry had vanished from his face. Too fast. Long were gone the frown and the puppy eyes, instead replaced with a proud smirk. His hands found your hips and he held you tightly on top of him. "Good. Because I like you a lot too."

You felt your insides melt at his confession; relief washing over you. You didn’t hesitate for a second to claim his lips. The kiss at first was slow, gentle, tended, you loved the taste and feeling of his lips against yours. Jimin, however, ended up being the impatient one between you two; he bit on your lip making you gasp softly and he took the chance to slide his tongue between your parted lips.

You melted to his kiss, his hands roaming over your body, fingers digging into your skin, a little harder and it would bruise - you wanted him to mark you. You whined softly into the kiss as he gave your butt a strong squeeze before making you grinding on him. You parted from his lips, putting your hands on his chest to steady yourself, you let your body take control over your mind, grinding harder.

You closed your eyes, enjoying every moves of your body, the friction, it wasn’t however enough to satisfy you. Biting on your lips, you grabbed his hard cock, guiding him to your throbbing core, you wanted to feel him inside you and you just couldn’t wait any longer. You sank down onto his cock, letting a soft moan as he filled you, deep, reaching for all your spots.

"Shit," Jimin growled, his hands back on your hips, digging his fingers into your skin, pressing you harder. "You feel so good, babe."

You nodded your head agreeing. Having him finally inside you felt amazing, mind-blowing even. You opened your eyes to stare at him, he looked just as fucked up as you, eyes filled with lust and hunger. Just one stare and he had you clenching around him.

"So do you, Jimin." You managed to say before starting rocking your hips. At first, slowly, relishing the overwhelming sensation. You would be lying if you said you weren’t addicted to Jimin because you were. You were drowning in pleasure and nothing could stop you.

Jimin stroked your hips with his thumb. If you were too intoxicated with the pleasure his cock provided, then Jimin was definitely addicted to the sight of you, riding him, eyes closed, head thrown back, breasts bouncing with your every move - he couldn’t stop himself from reaching for your breasts, squeezing them, pinching, only adding to your bliss.

"Look at you," Jimin started, mesmerized, "Riding my cock like your life depends on it."

You couldn’t even deny it, instead you gasped softly at his words. "I love your cock, Jimin. Feels so good." You bounced harder, faster and with every move his cock reached deeper, hitting all the right spots, making you shiver and shake in pleasure.

Jimin grabbed for your neck and forced you to fall completely on him, hands splayed across his chest. He stared into your eyes, into your soul, hypnotizing you once again. You halted your moves for a second, staring back. He kissed you hungrily, his hand still on your neck, refusing to let go, as he bit on your lips hard enough to make you moan his name.

"Look at you, so beautiful." He whispered and kissed your jaw, "All mine." His lips moved down to your neck, distracting you for a short moment. With a simple yet strong move, Jimin flipped you, pinning you under him. You pouted at his sudden change, overpowering you so simply which made him smirk proudly.

Jimin grabbed your thighs tightly, spreading them widely before burying himself all the way back inside you, making you both of you moan. He groaned at your tightness, his grip on your thighs tightening, bruising your skin. He didn’t let you time to protest, "Mine." He pulled almost fully out before slamming back.

You arched against him, grabbing the sheets beneath you, holding for your dear life. You were far from the sweet and slow pace; Jimin showed you no mercy, moving deep and fast within you. Every thrust made you cry out his name, thrashing under him.

"Jimin." You mewled. "Fuck."

"Yeah?"

"Don’t stop please." You begged

"Look at you." Jimin growled, thrusting deep, making your toes curl. "Taking me so well, so good."

"I’m so close." You warned him as you felt your release coming closer. Your whole body clenching, burning, ready to explode.

"Come then."

His order was all you needed to let go, shuddering uncontrollably as a shattering orgasm hit you. Jimin leaned over you, grabbing your lips for a bruising kiss as he chased his own release, his thrusts becoming less powerful until he halted pouring himself inside you.

Jimin rested his head against your breast, panting just as badly as you. You wrapped one arm around him and another around his neck, fingers playing with his hair.

"Fine." Jimin suddenly said and looked at you. "I’m convinced enough that you like me."

You tug at his hair but laughed nevertheless.

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

You walked from the bathroom to Jimin’s room wearing only your underwear. You grabbed your skirt from the chair and started putting it on without realizing Jimin was awake and admiring the perfect view of your butt.

Jimin cleared his throat, making you glance his way, completely unbothered. "I must say, I will never get tired of the view." He sat on the bed, back against the head of the bed, an arm behind his head, he licked his lips.

"Enjoy while you still can." You laughed and finished dressing. You wore a black pencil skirt with a red silk blouse with a nice v-line.

Jimin groaned at your reminder. He hadn’t forgotten that he was supposed to be out of the country for two days but he preferred not thinking about it and instead enjoyed the moment.

You observed him through the mirror while you were putting some makeup. His eyes were following your every move, he was a predator watching his prey and if you weren’t careful enough, you would get in trouble. A rather delicious trouble too. You glanced at the purple mark on your neck which brought back the memory of last night. It was supposed to be a movie night but somehow you got carried away on his too comfortable couch. You brushed the mark with your fingertips and smiled to yourself before noticing too late that Jimin was no longer on the bed but behind you.

"Jim-" He startled you with one hand on your hip while the other one was on your neck, gently stroking your skin - it sent shivers down your spine. You tilted your head to the side to give him a better access. The moment you did it, he planted a kiss on the purple spot, lips moving higher to your ear, tugging on your earlobe with his teeth. You moaned softly, still as sensitive as ever. You grabbed his hand on your hip and squeezed it.

"You’re such a tease." He grumbled and bit on your earlobe, his grip on your hip tightening and you felt your resolve wavering. "Come with me."

His recent made you snap from whatever spell he had casted on you. You looked at him through the mirror and he was now staring back at you with pleading eyes. God help me. You spun around and cupped his face, staring right into his eyes.

"You know it’s not reasonable." You started - Jimin was ready to protest but you shut him up by placing a finger on his lips. "Uh uh uh. I know what you want to say. You don’t need my assistance, you know it."

Jimin puckered his lips, pouting like a child, looking innocent and young and if you didn’t know better, he would have fooled you. You knew, however, his antics and it didn’t work that well any more. You shook your head in despair.

"Don’t." You warned him too late, the next thing you knew he licked your finger making you jump back. This little shit. Jimin looked smug and proud of him. Of course he was.

"You’re so frustrating!" You complained but not thinking any of your words.

Jimin put his hands back on your hips and pulled you against him. "So I was told. But you like me this way." He smiled sheepishly at you, knowing all too well that he was absolutely right.

"Like you? Now that’s debatable!"

"Take that back."

"Nope."

"Y/N!" He actually whined and tried to kiss you. Keyword: tried. You dodged his kiss and when he tried again you clapped your hand over his mouth.

"What did I say?" You pushed him away. Not because you didn’t want him to touch you - hell you dreamt of him touching you, but right now you needed to finish getting ready and leave for work. Jimin was just a too big of a distraction. But pushing him away only awoke the beast inside and you noticed the shift in the atmosphere when it was already too late. Jimin’s pout got replace by fierce, hungry, clouded with lust eyes - the typical gaze that made your heart skip a beat and your knees to get weak.

Shit.

Your body refused to move, rooted to the ground, you were completely hypnotized.

"Jimin." Your voice cracked when you tried to warn him. What a flirt.

"Say it."

Oh. "Say what?"

"That you like me."

"Or what?" It was a dangerous game you were playing (you shouldn’t) but sometimes you just couldn’t help it.

"Or." He took a step toward you and grabbed your chin, tightly, "My flight is only in three hours and I surely know how to keep you at my place." He touched your lips with his thumb, caressing them before parting them.

His words along with his action made you close your eyes and enjoy the gesture. You needed to get out of here as fast you could before it was too late for your sanity. Fuck it. You took him off guard by suddenly jumping at him, circling your arms around his neck, pressing your body tightly against his. You grabbed a fist of his hair before claiming his lips. Those damn plushy, pink, addictive lips that drove you crazy in so many ways. You conveyed all your feelings through the kiss, pouring your heart, you hoped he would get your message.

Jimin recovered from the shock quickly and returned the kiss just as eagerly, wrapping his arms protectively over you. He closed his eyes and enjoyed your taste. If only he could convince you to come with him.

"I like you." You whispered against his lips, tugging softly at his hair. " A lot."

Jimin broke the kiss only to press his forehead against yours, his warm breath ghosting over your face, he was back at being the sweet Jimin.

"I’m going to miss you." He admitted

"Two days, Jimin." You chuckled. "And then I’m all yours."

"Mine."

"Yours."

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

It was common knowledge that whenever the boss was out of sight, people would relax and work less and yet somehow you found yourself too busy for your liking. Your phone kept ringing through the whole morning and by lunch time your head was painfully throbbing. You needed a distraction and a break.

The distraction came by the name of Kim Taehyung.

You were once more too immersed in your work to notice that someone had joined your floor until said person cleared his throat and startled you for a second. You relaxed, however, instantly when you recognized Taehyung and not someone else. You smiled cheerfully at him.

"Special delivery!" Taehyung announced and handed you a beautiful bouquet of bright red roses.

You quirked a brow at him, ready to tease him. "Are you my secret admirer now, Taehyung?"

Taehyung paled and hurried to give you the bouquet. "No, no, no! I mean, you’re nice but-"

"Cute." You chuckled at his nervous outburst. "I can only guess from who those flowers are from." You smiled fondly at Taehyung before bringing the flower closers to your face. Jimin just couldn’t not to think about you, even after only a day. It was sweet and your heart melt some more.

"Thank you, Taehyung."

Taehyung relaxed and rubbed his neck, embarrassed and still not knowing how to behave around you. Jimin had told you a lot about his best friend; a sweet, a little lost, childish young man. By the way Jimin talked about him, you felt how important he was to him and now that you observed him, it wasn’t hard to understand.

"Jimin was worried you’d miss him too much."

You scoffed. "More like he’s the one missing me!"

Taehyung giggled. "He so does."

At least you both agreed on this one.

You felt so much better with Taehyung’s presence, some very appreciated company, and yet the headache didn’t go away - it got only worse, feeling like someone was trying to split your head in two.

"Y/N?" Taehyung worried

Despite Taehyung standing close to you, his voice sounded so far away. You tried desperately to concentrate on his voice and let him lead you back. It didn’t work either. But when you thought you were done for good - you heard voices, awfully familiar giggles.

Flashback

"We did it, Taetae!" Jimin jumped on the spot, excited and proud of himself

"We’re the best duo ever!" Taehyung bumped his fist with Jimin’s, a huge grin spread on his face before both of them looked proudly at their work.

"You are a bunch of idiots!" You appeared behind them and cursed at them. You knew when you left your place for your round at the main gates to make sure that demons didn’t damage the doors with their futile attempts to get inside, was a dangerous gamble. Taehyung and Jimin were good angels, probably too good, too innocent but they lived in their own world and sometimes would get in trouble and you were the one to save their butts. You loved them, a lot, but sometimes you wanted to beat the crap out of them. Just like right now.

How they managed to leave Heaven for Earth without getting caught was beyond your comprehension, especially when they didn’t have a proper control of their powers. You huffed in annoyance and grabbed their ears, pulling hard. "What do you think you’re doing?!"

"Y/N!!" They whined in perfect unison which only annoyed you more.

"Don’t!" You warned them. You twisted their ears, making them cry out in pain and if you weren’t so upset you would have felt bad for them.

You let go of them and stood, instead, before them, hands on your hips, you totally looked like a mother about to scold her kids. Which wasn’t that far from the truth.

You pointed at the flower field behind you. "How are you going to explain this?"

"But Y/N!" Jimin tried to calm you down, knowing you had a soft spot for him. "We finally managed to grow plants! Give life to something! It’s huge!"

You slapped his arm and he jumped in fear, rubbing the spot you had hit. "Not the point! Out of all the places you chose to try your experiment on earth!"

"Well. We didn’t want our friends to see if we had failed again." Taehyung defended their work.

For a short second, your features softened. It was true, Jimin and Taehyung were late bloomers among angels, their powers unstable which included not being able to heal or give life to plants, animals. You understood their struggle but their choice wasn’t too smart. You glanced behind you to look at the huge and beautiful field of flowers. It was beautiful and so relaxing.

You sighed in defeat. "Okay." Looking back at them, you saw how hopeful they were. "But a field in the middle of the desert? Really?"

Why did you even decide to take them under your wings?

—-

"Y/N?" Taehyung’s voice felt suddenly closer, deeper and stronger. You opened your eyes to see this same familiar and sweet face. The same face you saw in whatever the flash was about. Except he wore a deep scowl, staring at you, worried. He was on his knees before you, holding your hands tightly. Your throat suddenly felt dry but your headache was gone. "Y/N?"

"Yes?" You managed to say

"Shit. You scared me!" But Taehyung sighed in relief, he finally got a reaction from you. "Are you okay? Should I call someone or bring you home?"

You heard him and yet you couldn’t properly concentrate on his words, too confused with the images you saw, too confused with how you felt. You squeezed Taehyung’s hands, surprising him with you gesture. You both looked at your hands before you averted your eyes and looked back at him.

"Do I know you from somewhere else, Taetae?"

He didn’t say a word but the Taetae made him freeze on the spot.

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

It took you all the effort in the world to manage to get back to work after Taehyung’s visit that was shortened after your tricky question. He left your office, pale, almost as if he had seen a ghost. His behavior was suspicious which resulted in you overthinking. And yet, what you saw didn’t make any sense either. Angels? Heaven? Demons? There was no such things, you believed strongly. And yet.

You pushed those thoughts away and forced yourself to think about work instead. It lasted till you got home. The moment you stepped inside your flat, your brain went berserk, starting once again overthinking.

You barely had time to change your clothes for more comfortable one that Jimin barged inside, looking disheveled, worried and looking for you. You didn’t have time to react or say something, his arms were already around you, crushing your body against his in a tight and warm embrace. His warmth, his scent spread all around you -he was really back, too early, but he was back. You wrapped your arms around him in return, grabbing his jacket tightly as if your life depended on it.

"Let me guess, Taehyung called you?" You guessed, joking.

Jimin took a step back to have a proper look at you. He cupped gently your face and tilt it from one side to another, making sure you had nothing. He exhaled loudly before kissing you. "I was so worried."

"I’m fine." You were not but you didn’t want to worry him.

"Are you?"

You groaned; of course he would know when you were lying. You put some space between you two and crossed your arms over your chest. "I can’t believe you left so abruptly! Did you even warn them?" His silence made you throw your arms in the air. "Jimin! You can’t do that!"

"Of course I can."

"No." He quirked a brow at you and you knew you couldn’t win this fight.

At least he was back.

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

If there was a date you wished you could forget it would be the date your mother passed away. You dreaded the date every year, your mood turning sour every time. Oddly enough, every year the weather was the same too: it was raining.

You woke up this morning alone at your place. It was hard to find a good reason to push Jimin away, nothing worked with him which resulted with you getting angry and venting your frustration and pain and leaving him at his place alone and confused. You regretted your outburst the moment you got home but didn’t find the courage to call and apologize. Not yet at least.

You sat in your bed, blanket around your shoulders to keep you warm. You stared at the gloomy clouds outside, rain pouring, hitting the windows. Another day it would have rocked you back to sleep but today you had something else, something more important to do. You glanced at your phone; four missing calls from Jimin and just as many messages.

Jimin [7:10am] : Did I do something wrong?

Jimin [7:40am] : I know something is bothering you and I’m sorry if I pushed you too much. I just want to help you.

Jimin [9:30am]: Yoojin told me you took your day off. Y/N…

Jimin [10:00am] : Call me when you’re ready.

It broke your heart to ignore him, to avoid him but it was something you wanted to do alone.

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

By the time you got to the cemetery it was two in the afternoon and the raining got only worse. It didn’t stop you. It never did. You walked through the rows, your feet knowing the road to your mother’s grave all too well. With every step you took, your heart got heavier, clenching painfully in your chest. No matter how much you tried to convince yourself that your pain had decreased, it wasn’t true.

You stopped three graves before your mother’s one. A silhouette that you knew too well, was at the grave. It took you off guard. Every year you avoided him but this time you had failed.

Your father, despite the rain pouring, soaking his clothes, stood on his knees on your mother’s grave. You stared at him, face blank and yet your heart cried at the sight. You wished, when you left your father, that he would eventually find peace, that he would get over his loss and resume his life. He didn’t.

"He must have loved her a lot." Jimin’s sweet voice reached your ears and you should have been surprised - but you weren’t. You simply nodded without even looking at him.

Jimin took another step and grabbed gently your hand, intertwining your hands. His warmth spread around you, warming your pained heart, reminding you that you were not alone and that despite your silly argument he was here for you and with you. You closed your eyes, exhaling sharply, you squeezed his hand, unable to express your feelings, your gratitude. When you opened your eyes, you looked at him, fondly, in love. You stared at each other without a word, there was no need for it, your eyes spoke for you. And Jimin knew. He always did.

"Y/N?" Your father’s voice interrupted your moment, startling you but not Jimin.

Looking at your father’s face, you realized how life was hard to him; he looked so much older than he actually was. He observed your face, how you had changed and looked even more like your mother. He stretched his hand toward you but your body moved on it own, jolting back. His arm remained in the air for a moment, disappointed but not surprised with your reaction, he knew he deserved it.

"Sorry." He chuckled nervously and rubbed his neck.

It took him another second to notice that you weren’t alone. He glanced at Jimin, squinting his eyes - Jimin looked familiar but he couldn’t exactly pinpoint from where. His eyes darted back and forth between your intertwined hands and your faces, feeling how protective Jimin was over you with one glance. He smiled bittersweetly at you.

"I’m happy for you Y/N."

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

Back to present,

"I am more than happy." You pecked his lips, one time, two time, before Jimin started giggling at your endearing behavior.

"Good. Because I’m happy too." He cupped your face between his warm hands and claimed your lips. His kisses had always turned you into a mess. Sometimes they would be soft and gentle, making your heart swell with love and fondness (just like right now). Sometimes it would turn into a battle of dominance, teeth clashing, tongues battling which would lead to you mainly losing to him.

You wrapped your arms tightly around his neck and pressed your body against his, deepening the kiss and pouring all your feelings into it.

"I love you." You whispered against his lips. "So so much."

Jimin only groaned and bit on your lips playfully.

Yeah, it was perfect.

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

"Okay but have you seen this puppy? He was just so cute!" You squealed while walking a little bit ahead of Jimin, still excited with the cute puppy you had met during your late picnic at the park.

"We already have a cat though." Jimin stated, not refusing nor agreeing. Just like you, he loved pretty much every possible animals in this world and if he could (and had time) he would have adopted plenty of them.

"Yes and she’s still young and if we take a puppy, they would get along!"

Jimin halted in his track which made you stop too and look hopefully at him (doing your best puppy eyes). You adored his cat but you wouldn’t mind to have some more company, especially on times when Jimin was away from you.

"How am I supposed to say no when you look at me like that?" He sighed in defeat before chuckling to himself.

"Does it mean we’re getting a puppy?" You hopefully asked and approached him, ready to pounce at him in happiness and excitement.

"Will I get a kiss if I say yes?" He teased. Wrapping his arms around you, he pulled you closer, smiling down at you. "Or more?"

You laughed heartily. "As if we need a reason for that." And you sealed a silent promise with a kiss, smiling against his lips.

"Ok." He murmured. "Let’s get a puppy this week, yeah?"

It took you all effort in the world not to jump on the spot and scream in happiness. really, sometimes you wondered if you were an adult or a kid, but who cared anyway? Jimin certainly didn’t. But before you could convey just how happy you were, not like he didn’t see it, you were interrupted by a tiny sob coming from an alley just beside you.

"Did you hear that?" You asked without looking at him, your eyes glued to the alley. Someone was in this alley, someone young, and was crying.

"Y/N." Jimin tried to stop you but was too slow, you had already started walking toward the noise, your body acting on its own, completely hypnotized - he had no other choice but follow your steps.

Despite the sun still shining brightly, the alley was dark and humid and something ominous was lurking in the darkness. You couldn’t describe the uneasy feeling that took over your body, nor could you describe the pull you felt towards the sobs. It made no sense and yet you didn’t stop.

Until you saw a tiny body sitting on the ground, legs pulled to the chest, thin arms wrapped tightly around legs. It was a little girl. She was no older than ten, looking too thin, too scared. Some still fresh cuts on her arms had dirtied her already torn dress. Your heart clenched in pain at the terrible sight before you. What was this little girl doing alone in a dark alley? Where were her parents?

Without caring for your own clothes, you got on your knees and tried to grab her attention. "Why are you crying, little girl?"

She got startled with your voice, head snapping too hard and too fast to look at you. And what a look. The only sight of you terrified her and her eyes that were already filled with tears widened in shock. Instead of answering you, she tried to hide (not like there was a place to hide in the first place) but she tried to put some more distance between you two. It pained you but you understood.

"Don’t be scared. I promise, I’m not here to hurt you." You reassured her, your voice weak but gentle, you wanted her to relax.

"You promise?" She looked hopefully at you.

You nodded and stretched your hand for her to take. "You really have nothing to fear, I only want to help you."

Shakily, she slid her hand in yours and you gave her a comforting squeeze before smiling at her. "Come on." Slowly, you helped her to get back on her feet, still holding your hand to make sure that she wouldn’t fall back.

She closed her eyes for a second, her breathing slowly returning to normal.

"What’s your name?" Your hand gently brushed her hair.

"Jiah." You felt her relax under your touch. Maybe it was your looks, or maybe it was your behavior that soothed her but she finally dared to have a proper look at you.

The first thing that struck you were her eyes, never in your life have you seen such eyes. Big golden eyes were staring back at you. They were beautiful and you had no doubt that she would become a beauty. The second thing you noticed about her was the bright red mark on her forehead - a red moon crescent hiding under her bangs. Odd, you thought. Why would a kid have such a mark?

You smiled at her and brushed her bangs. "I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you little Jiah."

"Can you tell me what happened?"

Jiah bit on her lips, pondering whenever she should tell you or if it wasn’t worth it because you wouldn’t believe her. And yet, she felt the same strong pull toward you and her guts told her to share her dark reality. She shut her eyes tightly, trying hard to prevent some more tears to spill - you brushed her cheeks gently with your thumbs to wipe her tears.

"I-" Jiah started and stopped immediately when she spotted Jimin behind you. She pushed you hard, surprised you how such a small creature could be so strong, and slammed her back against the wall, trying to make herself invisible.

"Jiah." You tried to reach her but she slapped your hand away.

Something was definitely off. Jiah was warming up to you, you felt it. Then why? You glanced behind you only to see a very saddened and pained Jimin. It took you completely off guard, you had never seen such raw expression on his face. If it wasn’t for Jiah’s presence, you would have launched yourself at him and hugged him.

"He’s one of them." Jiah’s tiny voice interrupted your trail of thoughts.

"What do you mean?" You looked at her.

"He’s just like those people who killed mommy and daddy!" And she couldn’t help but burst into tears, burying her face between her hands.

"What." Now this didn’t make any sense. confused, your eyes darted back and forth between the little girl and the man you loved (who oddly didn’t try to defend himself which only added to your confusion). Jiah’s words troubled you on many levels - you wanted to tell her that she was wrong about Jimin but his lack of reaction and your own guts prevented you from.

"He will take me away too." Jiah started shaking and crouched down, hands over her head to protect herself.

"Y/N-" Jimin started but you shut him up by pointing a finger at him.

"I don’t know who did this to you and to your parents, but I can promise you that Jimin wouldn’t hurt you." You defended him before he could add anything else. You grabbed her arms, leaving her no choice but to look at you. "You’re scared, I understand that, but Jimin is the nicest person I have ever met."

"Is he?" She whispered, her eyes wandering from your face to his. She saw something about Jimin that you couldn’t, you realized, but your words seemed to work on her, you felt her relax under your hands.

"You’re not going to hurt me?" She dared to ask him

Jimin was left speechless. Not because of question but because you managed to make her change her mind on him with simple words. Why am I even surprised? He ruffled his hair before giving a nod. "I’ll never hurt you."

"See." You added

Jiah took a deep breath. "I can do it." She murmured to herself. She freed herself from your hands, gently this time, and looked at Jimin. She didn’t say a word and just stared at him, making sure that he was indeed harmless just like you both pretended him to be.

"Alright." She said surprising you both. She approached Jimin, her tiny fists clenched, her eyes never leaving his face as she tried to look strong before him. "You feel like them though."

"I know." Jimin admitted

"You’re weird."

To that Jimin actually started laughing heartily which made Jiah blink in confusion before joining him.

Jiah stretched her hand, once her giggles stopped, for Jimin to shake, accepting the fact that he was indeed different from what she expected him to be.

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

For someone who didn’t want to bring this child home, Jimin seemed to have completely adopted her by the time you had finished the improvised dinner at his place. Jiah didn’t seem as wary around him anymore, managing to laugh at his jokes and actually enjoy the meal. You were astonished by how fast they seemed to adopt to each other, there was, without a doubt, a bond between them that you couldn’t see.

When you finished cleaning the dishes, you came back in the room to talk some more with Jiah, there was still so many things she didn’t find the courage to tell you (and you couldn’t find the heart to force her either). But what you found instead made your heart miss a beat and melt into puddle. Jiah had fallen asleep while being rocked by Jimin, one arm wrapped protectively over her waist, while his other hand kept brushing her head.

Jimin was completely smitten and you couldn’t blame him - you were too.

You leaned against the door, arms crossed over your chest as you observed them. Jimin looked happy, enjoying this precious moment. You’ll make a great dad, you couldn’t help but think and one more time it seemed like Jimin could hear your thoughts - he raised his head to look at you, surprised at first before smiling fondly at you.

"Come here." He mouthed you but you shook your head, your presence was clearly unnecessary.

He huffed and got his attention back on Jiah. Jimin started humming a song, a song he used to sing to you whenever you wouldn’t be able to sleep. You were tempted to join him in the humming if it wasn’t by the sudden pain, the same strong headache hit you again.

Jimin’s humming became just a noise in the background; you tried to concentrate on him, but nothing worked.

Flashback

"You can’t do it, Y/N." Jimin’s loud voice interrupted you for the first time in centuries (if not more) you saw Jimin’s soft face twist in anger. Never in the time you knew each other had he raised his voice on you; in fact, you couldn’t remember a single time where you would fight. No, this was new and worrisome.

“Jimin.” You didn’t want to fight him, especially not him. Jimin was special to you and not only because you had been friends for so long. No, you loved him a lot but despite your feelings, your duty and sense of justice was more important to you. You tightened your grip around the sleeping child in your arms, frowning in disapproval at Jimin. “You can’t expect me to leave this child to them. She did nothing wrong, Jimin and they want her dead and for what?”

You hated how narrow-minded and unfair heaven was. It was supposed to be the best and perfect place but it wasn’t. angels were blinded by their own unfounded rules and greed. And they say demons are bad. This child’s whole family was decimated because her mother fell for a demon’s trick. Did she deserve her fate? Maybe. Did the child deserve death? Definitely not.

“I know she’s half demon.” You admitted unwillingly, “I can’t unsee her aura. But she’s a human too and was raised by good people. Look at her and tell me she’s evil.”

Jimin wanted to argue but one look at you was enough to convince him to think twice before doing so. He looked at the girl in yours arms; even if she was sleeping he still could hear her thoughts and see her heart. He closed his eyes and clenched his fist; you were right about the Halfling. Yes, Jimin could feel her demonic blood, but her heart was pure and innocent.

“You know it’s wrong.” You said softly

Jimin lowered his head, unable to look at you any longer, scared that he would lose his will to convince you that whatever your plan was, it was pure madness.

“They won’t forgive you. You’ll be punished, Y/N.”

“I know. But I’m willing to take the risk. She’s so young and has nobody left. If I leave her alone”, You paused to get a look at her sleeping angelic face, “Bad people will find her and use her. I don’t want it for her.”

“They’ll find you!” You’re an angel, you can’t hide forever!”

“As a matter of fact, I can. I know a way.”

Jimin hesitated. “How?”

“Do you remember Seolhee?”

Jimin’s face paled at the mention of the name. of course he remembered it, a powerful witch that both angels and demons feared. She was not a good or a bad witch, but she lived by her own rules. Defeated, Jimin fell on his knees, hands shaking as he finally looked at you, desperate. “Don’t. Y/N, please. I’m begging you.”

“Jimin…”

“Don’t do this to me.” He let a sob out, unable to control any longer his feelings.

“Oh Jimin.” You moved gently the tiny body to make sure she wouldn’t wake up. Without hesitation you joined Jimin on the floor, cupping his now wet cheeks. You hated yourself for making him cry and you wished you could do something about it. “Please don’t cry.” You wiped his tears with your thumbs, heart breaking just as much as his.

“Don’t leave me.”

“I’m so sorry.” And you truly were because in two days from now on, you wouldn’t be an angel anymore. In two days, he would never be able to see you again.

“I wish things were different.” You said sadly

Back to present,

You hadn’t realized you were crying until Jimin brushed your cheek with his thumb. You blinked, surprised to find him beside you, heartbroken with what you saw. You were met with the same concerned face, the same face your heart longed for.

Jimin searched your eyes, anxious at your sudden behavior. “Y/N?”

“I-“ You blinked trying to find your words, “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing silly?” He chuckled but all you could do was to think about his teary eyes, begging you not to follow your plan. “Are you okay?”

You wished you could answer that. Truth to be told, you were far from being ok. It took you time to make out what those images meant, but now that you looked at Jimin, no matter how much you didn’t want to believe it, you knew, those images were your memories.

“Don’t leave me.”

You shut your eyes tightly, wishing to get rid of the image of Jimin begging you, wishing to forget it, to erase it and go back to your normal life.

Suddenly, Jimin let go of your face, taking his hand away as if you had burnt him. His face pale, he took a step back. “You-you remember?”

“Remember what?” You asked despite knowing already his answer.

“You thought about me. My words.” He replied a little too harshly, panic in his voice.

Oh. You chuckled tiredly, remembering what deep inside you already knew for a while: Jimin was a mind-reader.

“Can we not talk about it?” You finally asked

“But-“

“Please. I promise, we’ll talk later. But now, I need to think.”

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

Except later never came.

Jimin did as you asked: he let you time and space despite his own desire to see you and talk to you. You bet he had a lot to say, a lot to share. If for you it didn’t seem like a long time since you last talked, it was definitely not his case. How long did he exactly have to wait to see you again? You were being selfish, again. But you wanted to be sure about those memories before facing him again, you wanted to make sure you wouldn’t make him cry ever again.

“Y/N! Y/N! Look, it’s for you!” Jiah run to you with a small bouquet of flowers that she gathered in the park. You were pretty sure it was forbidden but how could you possibly scold her when she looked at you with those big pretty eyes? You couldn’t.

“They’re lovely, just like you.” You accepted her gift and smiled at her.

Before you could add anything else, Jiah had wrapped her arms around you, hugging you tightly with her face pressed against your belly. You laughed heartily at her display of affection and put a hand in her hair, stroking it gently.

Jiah was a lovely kid, you knew it from the moment you laid your eyes on her and after spending so much time in her company for the past few days, it confirmed your first impression. Despite her parents’ tragic fate, she managed to smile again and you wished to believe it was thanks to you. You loved her presence that brought back other memories that had stayed hidden in your head for all this time.

There were still things you couldn’t believe were real, but after living for almost a whole week with a child who could move things without touching them (and let’s not forget her eyes changing colors whenever she was upset), it was hard to stay skeptical.

"Thank you." You heard her whisper and she tightened her grip around your body.

"You really have a thing for lost kid, haven’t you?" An awfully familiar voice interrupted (quite rudely) the lovely moment.

Jiah tensed against you, sensing the stranger’s energy and refused to move while you only turned your head to face a now familiar man. You stared at Namjoon, staring right into his dark, deep eyes.

"Hello Y/N, lovely as ever." He complimented.

You rolled your eyes at him. "What are you doing here Namjoon?"

"Aw, come on, don’t be so cold. I’m not your enemy." He whined which was a rather odd sight to witness.

Flashback

"You should meet Seolhee. She can help you." Namjoon told you

"Why are you helping me? You’re a deity, you’re not supposed to help."

"Why?" Namjoon repeated more to himself than to you. He averted his eyes to look at the sky, inhaling the sweet air from heaven. "Aren’t we the same, Y/N? You know Heaven’s rules are wrong on so many levels. Many of your peers perished because they tried to go against them. I’m tired of it. alone, I can’t change the world, but slowly and with help." He stopped to glance at your bloody hands, "My friend got imprisoned for his strong opinions. I appreciate you and approve your ways. So now it’s my turn to help you."

"They will know."

"They won’t. And even if they does, by the time they’ll realize what you have done it will be too late."

"Won’t they know you helped me?"

"Don’t worry."

Back to present,

Oh. You blinked the images away and brought a hand to your head, the headache was back but not as strong as it used to.

"Y/N?" Jiah’s little voice forced you to snap from your trance.

"Sorry. Don’t worry, I’m okay." You reassured her before looking back at Namjoon. "More than okay actually."

Reassured, Namjoon smiled, cute dimples showing on his face. "I’m sorry, I was so slow to find you."

"Don’t be. You chose the right moment to find me, thank you."

Hearing you thanking Namjoon, Jiah decided to stop hiding and peek at the impressive man standing few steps from you two. Namjoon saw her curious look right away, his smile only widening at the little girl which made her blush madly and hide behind you.

"Cute." You chuckled and Namjoon nodded, approving your words.

"She’s adorable."

"She is, isn’t she?" You patted her shoulder, "Come on, don’t hide. He doesn’t bite." To that Namjoon raised a brow, amused. "Hush you."

"Hey Jiah. Do you mind if I talk with Y/N alone?" Namjoon asked, doing his best to charm the little girl (as if she could resist the dimples).

Jiah wasn't fond of his request, sulking, but the moment Namjoon smiled at her, she had no other choice but run away for her own safety.

"Damn Namjoon. You have a way with ladies!" You teased him while watching Jiah running away from you and probably gather some more flowers.

"It's called talent but you already know that."

"Maybe."

Namjoon took you by surprise by wrapping his arms around you and pulling you against him for a hug. It was new but enjoyable and you hugged him back.

"I’m glad Jimin found you." He kissed your forehead and then put some space between you two. "How much do you remember?"

"Not enough to be satisfied. I have flashbacks here and there and I see the big picture."

"Do you remember what happened with Seolhee?" It was a question Namjoon dreaded to ask, he knew it would be one of the most painful memories you would have to remember and he didn't know how you would face it.

"As in do I remember that I decided to rip my own wings to become human and make sure that angels won't find me? Yes, I remember." It was, indeed, a painful memory and yet you realized that if you had to do it again, you would. "Don’t look at me like that Namjoon. It was my choice."

"I know. But it doesn’t make it less easier."

"True, but it was the right thing to do and I’m happy now."

"You lost Jimin though."

"Did I?" You wondered, "I don’t think I was ready to give myself fully to him back then but now? I definitely can."

"So are you going to talk to him? Because he looks miserable without you."

You huffed. Of course, Namjoon couldn’t stop messing with you. "I will. Now shut up and tell me how are you?"

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

"Are you planning to talk to Jimin or should I just kick your ass?" Your aunt huffed at you on the phone. "He’s moody and kind of scary and I believe it’s your fault, my not so adorable niece!"

"Now I wonder why you’re saying that." You joked. Of course you knew what she was trying to say.

"Did you really think I out of all people won’t notice what was going on with you and Jimin? Seriously?" She sounded offended which only made you laugh.

"Well, you’d be happy to know that I’m actually on my way to see him."

"Are you? He’s been locked in his office for the whole day."

Of course he was. Your heart clenched uneasily at the thought of Jimin being alone for all this time but you regained your composure fast - you were planning to change his life.

"Yes I just left my place. Don't worry." You reassured her

"You better." She huffed, "I want both of you happy."

She hung up on you, not waiting for an answer and not like you could give her a proper one, too stunned with her confession. You stared at your phone before chuckling and shaking your head in amusement. Your aunt was the best, there was no denying.

By the time you got to what was still supposed to be your workplace, most of people had already left and it was probably for the best. Nobody really knew why you suddenly stopped coming every morning and you didn't have the heart to explain. And what were you supposed to say anyway? Nothing. But the few people you did see, you greeted them with a warm smile and pretended not hearing their whispers about you. You would deal with them another day.

When you arrived before Jimin's door, you hesitated. You wanted to see him and make things right, but it didn't mean you weren't scared. You left him twice without telling him how you really felt about him and you regretted it deeply. You took a deep breath, gathering your courage and knocked at the door.

You opened the door without waiting for his answer, you expected him to know exactly who was behind, he could feel you, hear you.

Jimin was at his desk, pretending, you believed, not seeing you, concentrated on whatever he was reading and yet his body betrayed him as he tensed the moment you stepped in.

You closed the door behind you and leaned against it, your hand still on the handle. As you looked at him, you had a huge sense of déjà vu except this time he had a good reason to be mad with you.

"You asked me how much I remember." You started, grabbing his attention as he looked at you. Jimin was frowning at you, you didn’t need to be a mind-reader to know what was going through his head.

"I remember everything." You took a step toward him and then another. "I remember two lovely boys who spent their times getting in trouble but I still cared for. I remember you. I remember how much you loved me and how I threw everything away because of my own selfishness.

You halted before him, towering him but with a bittersweet smile on your face. You touched Jimin’s face, stroking his cheek. It felt the same, Jimin was still the Jimin from your memories, the sweet and loving man who would have done everything for you. "I’m so sorry, Jimin."

Jimin let you touch him, listening to your words, to your thoughts, eyes never leaving your face. His heart was pounding loudly, relishing in your words. Words he had been waiting to hear for all this time.

"You could have asked me to come with you." Jimin whispered

"Oh no." You leaned over, your face close to his. "No Jimin."

"Why not? I was left alone. Do you know how hard it was for me?"

"I can only imagine. But Jimin, the path I chose was a painful one and I didn’t want it for you."

He didn’t answer to that and averted his eyes from you, looking to the side, battling with his inner demons.

"I loved you back then too and I’m sorry I didn’t find the courage to tell you that." You admitted the painful truth

"And now?"

Your fingers moved under his chin, making him look at you as you stared into his eyes. "I love you."

Jimin sighed in defeat. "You better. You have centuries to make up for."

#jimin #bts #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts smut #jimin fanfic #jimin fic #jimin smut #bts x reader #bts scenario #bts reaction #breathe

298 notes · View notes