#i filled this out based on her NOT working and just hanging out

[the-scarlet-witch-22]

It's Like Supernatural (Agatha Harkness x Reader)

Summary: You didn’t believe in ghosts, so you naturally ignored the warnings that the house of your dreams was haunted. 

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: 18+ Minors Do Not Engage!! Dirty talk, voyeurism, masturbation, ghost sex

A/N: This is a quick one-shot inspired by some behind the scenes looks at ghost!Agatha (the hottest ghost around, truly), my lifelong dream to own a house like the one in Practical Magic, as well as my endless love for Supernatural by Ariana Grande. I hope you enjoy and feel free to let me know what you think! :)

Tag-List: @mrsines @chiar4anna

When you heard the house you were interested in buying was haunted, you didn’t think much of it. Locals loved ghost stories, and you assumed this was just another tall tale to spook off tourists. 

Even if you believed in ghosts, which you didn’t, that wasn’t going to stop you from purchasing the home of your dreams. It was a beautiful Victorian house that was arguably far too large for just yourself, with three whole floors to decorate and make your own. There were sprawling gardens and even a large greenhouse already filled with a variety of plants you couldn’t even begin to name.

You wondered if the realtor had been tending to them.

It was perfect, and you couldn’t believe how cheap it was. The realtor seemed far too eager, and a bit surprised, when you settled on it, but you chalked it up to desperation to make a sale. 

When you had moved the majority of your belongings in, you decided it didn’t matter if this alleged ghost was real or not, absolutely nothing would ever make you want to leave. 

If only you knew how very wrong you were.

Things seemed normal, at first. The house was everything you dreamed it to be. From what you were able to get out of the very quiet realtor and even more closed off locals, the house had been abandoned since its last owner died. There wasn’t much information on her, but she apparently gained a rather interesting reputation, based on the horrified expressions on their faces whenever you asked about her.

Agatha Harkness. 

There was a portrait of her hanging above the fireplace in the library. It was one of the things that caught your eye the first time touring the property. She was beautiful, with wild dark brown hair and piercing blue eyes that almost seemed to follow you around the room. There was a locket around her neck that appeared to be a family heirloom, maybe. Her red lips were twisted upwards, forming an almost diabolical smirk that sent a shiver down your spine.

Maybe there was a reason the locals all seemed to fear her.

Things changed a few weeks after you moved in. It wasn’t much, at first. You left your laptop on the kitchen counter one morning before leaving, and when you came back home that evening you found it on the dining room table. Maybe you moved it and didn’t remember, you decided as you started your dinner. It wouldn’t have been the first time. 

Only, things you placed around the house kept showing up elsewhere, and the more it happened the crazier you felt. You left a book in your bedroom and found it in your bathroom. The reading glasses you always kept in the sitting room wound up in the dining room. Clothes you swore you folded and set in your dresser were later found in a wrinkled heap in one of the spare guest rooms. 

It finally reached the point where you wondered if someone was breaking in, but surely an intruder would do more than just play little pranks on you. 

You didn’t even take the time to consider if the whispers and rumors of a ghost were real, you knew it was just your overactive imagination playing tricks on you. Work had been more stressful than usual, this was surely just a case of exhaustion. You most likely moved all of those items and couldn’t remember, that’s all.

It was around a month after you moved in when you decided to do some redecorating. You’d kept the majority of the paintings the previous owner, Agatha, had collected. They were interesting pieces, most of them seemed to be hundreds of years old. But there were a few you were looking to swap out, the portrait in the library included.

One rainy Saturday afternoon you grabbed a ladder, trudging into the library. Your eyes briefly flickered up at the portrait, and felt the strange sensation that the haunting blue eyes were watching you. Climbing up, you steadied yourself and made sure your feet were secure as you raised your arms, grasping onto the frame. Tugging lightly, you were perturbed when it didn’t budge.

Odd, but it did appear to be rather old, maybe it was stuck on one of the nails. Readjusting the position of your feet on the ladder you leaned forward, pulling harder than you did the first time. The painting still wouldn’t move. You tried everything, lifting and even trying to turn it, but it wouldn’t move.

Questioning your strength, you attempted to get it off the wall one more time, your feet nearly sliding off the ladder as you quickly grabbed onto the mantle of the fireplace stopping you from toppling backwards. 

“Not very strong, hm?” 

A sense of panic overtook you and you lost your balance, hitting the floor with a loud thud as the floorboards beneath you creaked. You whipped your head around, wondering who said that, whilst coming to the startling realization you weren’t alone.

Maybe someone had been breaking in.

Looking up, you felt your heart stop as you saw a translucent figure floating in the air. You did a double take, looking between the figure and the portrait on the wall while struggling to catch your breath.

It couldn’t be. 

The figure looked down at you, a predatory grin forming on her lips. Her long hair was so pale it appeared to be white and it was draped over her shoulders cascading down her back. The longer you stared at her the more you realized that it was Agatha Harkness.

But that’s impossible. Ghosts weren’t real.

“I…I don’t,” you barely managed to get out, at a loss for words as Agatha let out a loud cackle, the sound bouncing off the walls.

“Not very clever, either,” Agatha mused, tilting her head to the side as she gazed down at you. “I would have thought my rather obvious haunting over the past few weeks would have been enough to make you notice.”

Your head spun as you listened to her talk, and every odd occurrence over the past month started to make sense. 

“You’re less chatty than I thought you’d be,” Agatha observed, floating down until she was inches away from your face. “Although the silence is certainly better than that incessant singing you do in the shower. Ever heard of voice lessons?”

Your eyes widened as you realized she had been spying on you, and your cheeks grew hot at the knowing smirk she gave you. 

Clearing your throat, you managed to stand up, taking a step back to create some distance between you and…the ghost. 

“Is this the part where you send me running so you can keep the house for yourself?” You asked, shocking both yourself and Agatha.

“She makes jokes,” Agatha retorted, raising her hand to tap her index finger across her cheek as she stared at you. “And no, dear, if I wanted you gone I would have sent you away like the others.”

“The others?” You questioned, thinking back to your many conversations with the realtor and vaguely remembering being told you were the first person to have purchased the house.

Agatha appeared to watch the gears turn in your head as she came closer to you, slowly circling you. “There’s a reason no one else ever bought this house. They all wanted to renovate it, or tear it down and build some monochromatic slab. Modern architecture is truly a disgrace.”

She spat, frowning at the memory before looking back at you, an intrigued expression on her face. “But you’re different. I could tell.”

“So you’re a ghost because you want to keep your house intact?” You asked, genuinely curious.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Agatha scoffed, as if that was the craziest question you could have asked her. She motioned to her wispy form. “This was a calculated risk that I plan on reversing. Eventually.”

“I see,” you said, taking in what she said, while also wondering why you were having a conversation with a ghost instead of doing what any sane person would have done. Moved. But there was the doom and gloom that was the current housing market, so maybe you were the sane one. “And how do you plan on doing that?”

Agatha raised an eyebrow, eyes roaming up and down your body in a way that left you shivering. “I’m glad you asked, doll.”

You made a mental note to start listening to people more often, especially when they try to tell you a house is haunted.

Agatha Harkness was one of the most intriguing people, or rather ghosts, you had ever met. She was full of contradictions, and you sometimes struggled to decipher if she was lying to you or not. It was clear she wasn’t used to sharing her space, in this ghostly form or not, and had absolutely zero sense of boundaries.

It was also hard to establish ground rules when she could just float through locked doors. 

After a while you got her to stop listening in on your concert showers, although you swore you’d sometimes catch a glimpse of her in the bathroom mirror as you were washing your hair. You didn’t want to explore why the thought of her lurking made you as excited as it did.

She was brilliant, clearly, and you had difficulty wrapping your brain around the existence of not only ghosts, but witches. After your conversation in the library, she instructed you on how to open the passageway behind one of the bookshelves, which revealed a room tucked away from prying eyes. It was filled with countless items you couldn’t begin to recognize, as well as dozens of vials filled with colorful liquids and various animal skulls.

After you nearly fainted from the overwhelming and shocking turn of the day’s events, Agatha casually informed you that she was a witch. A centuries old witch. What led to her current spirit state was unclear, and the light prying you attempted got you nothing but icy cold glares, so you let it go. 

She did seem to have a rather interesting plan to get her corporeal form back, although you understood absolutely none of it no matter how many times she impatiently explained it to you.

You thought it best to leave all magical and potentially illegal activities to her.

Agatha wasn’t kept to the house, a fact you realized one morning a few weeks after her rather blunt introduction. She could come and go as she pleased, and you never questioned where she floated off to, choosing instead to enjoy the welcome peace and quiet. 

She’d come back hours or sometimes days later more annoyed than when she left, so you assumed wherever she was heading didn’t do much to lift her spirits. Pun intended. 

You chose not to linger on why you were beginning to enjoy her presence more than her absence. 

After a while the two of you settled into a rather comfortable routine. You had learned Agatha was able to muster the energy to physically grasp onto objects, hence the rather annoying saga of ‘I thought I left this here but it ended up there’. She enjoyed showing off for you, making a show of stirring your tea or tending to the plants in the greenhouse (it was there you met her familiar Scratchy, the rabbit that was most definitely not a rabbit).  

There was the one time you were getting dressed and your bra was unhooking after you were certain you secured it, but Agatha swore up and down she had nothing to do with it.

You both ignored the fact that you could feel her icy presence behind you as her hands delicately played with your hair. 

It was nice, in a way, sharing the enormous house with someone else. Even if that someone else was a ghost, who was really a witch, who most definitely had murdered countless people. But, there was a different problem that had been brewing since she revealed herself to you.

You were embarrassingly attracted to her. 

It was unclear where the supernatural pull came from, but she soon became the only thing on your mind. You were entranced, completely under her spell, and all you could do was enjoy having her attention. The feeling of her watching you, the almost hungry look in her eyes as she stared at you left you wanting more. 

You couldn’t help but wonder how long she was able to use her hands before fading.

As much as you tried to hide your crush it was becoming increasingly obvious, if the way Agatha leered and smirked at you was any indicator. You had never been good at this sort of thing, and the added complication of pursuing a, possibly temporary, ghost left you reeling at how to make a first move. 

It didn’t help that Agatha was a relentless flirt, saying endless cheeky one liners and innuendos, delighting in the way your cheeks would flush. It sometimes felt like she was testing how far you would let her go before squawking and retreating to the comfort of your bedroom. 

Lately you decided to push her buttons in the only way you felt comfortable trying. Since outwardly flirting wasn’t your strong suit, you decided to take a more subtle approach. You were curious to see if she would take the bait.

After a particularly interesting dinner, which consisted of you eating and Agatha watching you eat, you had left more flustered than before. While Agatha watching you eat was a normal occurrence (she claimed she missed food), this evening was a bit different. You had tried a new recipe she taught you, and couldn’t stop the moan that left your lips at the taste of the vodka sauce.

Agatha’s reaction was different, though. As you were trying to determine if her eyes were darker than they normally appeared, the ghost had moved from her normal spot of hovering over the center of the table to settling beside you. 

Swallowing your bite of pasta you glanced at her, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach from the way her eyes were locked on your lips.

“Can I help you with something?”

Agatha refrained from commenting, silently vanishing from the room in her typical dramatic fashion. Rolling your eyes, you finished your dinner alone, all whilst replaying her reaction to your moan. 

Later that night you got settled in the bathroom, stripping down and turning on your shower. Steam filled the room, you’d always preferred the water to be just below scalding, and once you were satisfied with the temperature you got in. Lathering your body with soap, you peeked out of the shower to see if Agatha would appear. However, if the ghost was in the room, she wasn’t making her presence known. 

You continued on with your shower, the steam starting to fog up the mirrors. It was then the idea hit you. Your hands roamed down, and you spread your legs. Initial hesitation and embarrassment pushed aside in favor of imagining Agatha’s heated gaze once more, you teased yourself. 

Using two fingers you played with your clit, circling the sensitive nub until you let out a soft moan at the sensation. You were already on edge after dinner, and every time you closed your eyes you pictured Agatha staring at you. Leering as she licked her lips. Letting out another moan, you teased your entrance, pretending that Agatha’s fingers were your own as you slowly pushed your index finger in with ease. 

You were soaked, and not from the downpour of scorching water flowing around you. Adding a second finger, you took your time, enjoying the slight stretch as your inner walls fluttered. You couldn’t help but think about how much fuller you would feel with Agatha’s fingers inside you, her lithe digits hitting the spots you had difficulty reaching on your own. 

The name slipped past your lips before you were fully aware of what you were saying.

“Agatha,” you whimpered, the sound of your voice cutting through the downpour of water. 

Closing your eyes, you cupped your right breast with your other hand. Using your thumb and index finger to lightly tug on your nipple, you imagined Agatha standing behind you as her hands roamed your body. It was far too easy of a fantasy to slip into, as you were lost in your pleasure, increasing the pace of your fingers as you fucked yourself.

Nearing your release, you tilted your head back, the warm water cascading down as you let out a louder moan. You were so close, you could nearly taste it; an earth shattering orgasm just out of reach. Chasing your high, you roughly pulled on your left nipple, as Agatha’s name escaped your lips once more, stronger this time.

“Agatha.”

There was a faint, cool sensation behind you and you didn’t have to turn around to know she was there. 

Of course she was. 

Any self consciousness you would have normally felt being exposed was absent, replaced by an overpowering desire for Agatha to have you in whatever way she was capable of. Your fingers slowed as you made your thrusts more intentional, curling them just right and letting out every gasp and whimper. The knowledge Agatha was watching you pushed you closer to letting go. 

But there was still something missing.

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up as an uncanny feeling washed over you. It was then you heard her voice whispering in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

“You look so desperate like this, moaning my name like a filthy whore,” Agatha murmured, and you let out a low groan in response, every word she uttered making you clench around your fingers.

“Agatha…”

“Come for me,” Agatha whispered, voice so low you barely heard her.

The reaction was instantaneous, obeying her words as your cunt spasmed around your fingers. Your legs quivered as you rode out your orgasm, feeling the tight coil in your lower stomach send a sweet sensation you felt all throughout your body. Slowing your fingers to a halt, you allowed yourself to revel in the feeling, Agatha’s presence still looming behind you as you came down from the high. 

Pulling your fingers out they were coated in your cum, as the water began to rinse them clean. Agatha moved, hovering in front of you. Her pupils appeared to be blown out as she gazed at you in a way that had you squirming. 

“Suck them clean,” Agatha ordered, a trace of amusement in her tone as she watched you eagerly follow her every command.

The strong effect she had on you was unlike anything you had ever experienced before, to the point where you were unable to think of anything besides the ghost. 

What was she doing to you?

Raising your fingers to your lips, you sucked on them, moaning at the taste of yourself on your tongue. You swore you heard Agatha let out a low growl, but when you raised your head she was gone. Disappearing as quietly as she had earlier that evening.

A wave of disappointment hit you, and you tried to ignore the sting of rejection as your gut churned. Turning the shower off, you grabbed your towel, drying yourself off before wrapping the towel around your body, securing it so it wouldn’t fall.

You should’ve known Agatha wasn’t really interested in you. She was probably bored, trapped in her current spectral state and saw you as an easy distraction.

The house was eerily quiet, save for the creaking of the floorboards as you entered your bedroom, and you were so wrapped up in your own thoughts that it took you a moment to realize that you weren’t alone.

Doing a double take, you found Agatha waiting for you. The ghost hovering near your bed, arrogant smirk painted on her features as she observed you. 

“Took you long enough,” Agatha said, appearing to be lounging on your pillows. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d drowned.”

“Nice to see you’d care if that were to happen,” you deadpanned, shifting uncomfortably as a chill overtook you, and not the type you had grown accustomed to from being in the ghost’s presence.

Agatha raised an eyebrow, but she refrained from responding. As you took a step closer to the bed, you went slack jawed upon seeing what was most definitely not on the bed earlier. A collection of your toys were laying in a neat row, having been sorted by both size and color, and it didn’t take you long to deduce who put them there.

Cackling at your reaction, the sound pleasantly ringing in your ears, Agatha motioned to the toys. 

“Well?”

Gulping, you nodded your head towards your most recent purchase. A purchase that was most definitely not inspired by Agatha’s apparent obsession with purple. The toy in question was one far bigger than what you’d usually use, and a lot thicker as well. It was a deep purple that caught your eye as you were scrolling through the website, and you may have pictured it stretching you out as Agatha cooed filthy praises in your ear. 

“Dirty girl,” Agatha said quietly, gleeful as you joined her on the bed, your towel hitting the floor. Her eyes fixated on your naked form as she instructed you to lay against the pillows. “Work yourself up to take it, dear. I don’t want to break my newest toy just yet.”

You felt yourself beginning to ache again, and the anticipation of what was to come combined with the ravenous glances Agatha kept casting at you ensured you were bound to have another explosive orgasm.

Grabbing one of your smaller toys, a light pink finger vibrator, you watched Agatha settle in beside you. It was just enough feeling her beside you that you could picture what it would be like if she could actually touch you. 

Teasing the toy, you turned it on, the vibrations against your clit nearly causing you to let go far too early. 

Agatha let out a rather guttural noise, as she leaned in closer to you. “So eager. You’re just dripping to be fucked, aren’t you honey?”

Her words only served to motivate you, as you pushed the toy through your folds, quietly crying out as it filled you. This was a toy you used more frequently, and you knew the exact speed and way to make yourself unravel without much effort. 

Agatha appeared to be just as entranced as she whispered absolute filth in your ear, watching you fuck yourself closer to an orgasm with every thrust. It was unsurprising Agatha was so skilled at dirty talk, and you were even less surprised at how every word that left her translucent lips had you more wet than before. Your cunt aching as you neared your climax.

“You’re taking the toy so well,” Agatha encouraged you as you let out another whine. “This pussy was meant to be fucked open. It’ll look so perfect stretched around my cock.”

You couldn’t stop yourself as your vision turned white, hips thrusting as Agatha cooed. You came on the toy, crying out even louder than before. The vibrations quickly became too much as you felt your walls quiver and legs shake from being overstimulated. Your arms felt like jelly but you managed to turn the toy off, leaving it inside you for a few more moments as you enjoyed the afterwave of your orgasm. 

Unfortunately, Agatha was even less patient in the bedroom than she was at any other given moment. You felt something cold grasp onto your hands and with a startled gasp you realized Agatha’s fingers were grabbing onto the toy. With a gentle but quick pull, the toy was out of you and tossed on the floor. You couldn’t help but cry out at being left empty, which made Agatha far too pleased.

You watched with curious eyes as Agatha mustered the strength to be able to grab the original toy you selected, feeling another tingle between your legs at the sight of her holding the large dildo.

“You should feel lucky I’m not in my full corporeal form just yet,” Agatha said, voice low with want as she approached you. 

“I wish you were,” you allowed yourself to say, words becoming more difficult to form from how desperate you were to come again. 

“Be careful what you wish for,” Agatha warned, raising the toy to tease your entrance, gently rubbing it up and down and you squealed as it brushed against your clit. “I’m going to ruin you, pet.”

You were soaked, completely dripping onto your comforter, at this point, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as you watched Agatha push the head of the toy inside you. You moaned, feeling yourself being forced to take it as she let out a groan as well.

“What I’d give to feel you clenching around me,” Agatha said, eyes glued to your cunt stretching around the girth. 

Your head thrashed as the pain of being fucked with something larger than you had ever taken began to take over. 

“It’s too much,” you whimpered, hips jerking as Agatha laughed again, forcing you to take more of it. 

“You’ll take whatever I want you to,” Agatha informed you, her words causing your clit to throb. “And I want to watch this pretty pussy be stuffed full of my cock.”

When the toy was into the hilt, Agatha gave you a moment to adjust. You had never felt so full and your hips desperately bucked for more as you writhed from the sensation. The pain beginning to be replaced with a carnal desire for her to fuck you senseless. When Agatha deemed you ready, she moved, her hand fucking the toy into you hard and deep. 

The only noise in the room was the sound of Agatha fucking into your sopping cunt, the wet slaps mixing in with both of your moans. Agatha seemed determined to make you come before she lost the ability to command the toy. 

“I know you can give me one more,” Agatha urged you on, increasing her pace, and you knew you would have difficulty walking in the morning. 

All you could do was cry out in agreement, meeting her for every thrust as you felt your head begin to spin. It was too much, and you weren’t sure how anything else would ever compare. 

“You’re going to come for me,” Agatha breathed out, appearing more desperate than before. You wondered how much of an effect this was able to have on her, given her current state. “And when you do, I want you to scream my name as you soak my cock. Can you do that for me?”

Whimpering as you nodded, Agatha gave one more thrust of her hand as you came for a third time, nearly blacking out in the process as your eyes clamped shut. Your back arched upwards as you squeezed your thighs together, keeping the toy trapped inside you as you felt cum dripping down your thighs. 

It was an otherworldly experience, to the point where you briefly wondered if she had killed you from the pleasure she had just granted you. 

Coming back down to earth, you panted as you collapsed onto the bed. Your body was dripping with sweat and you felt sticky and filthy, but too exhausted to take another shower. It was unclear how long you remained there with the toy nestled deep inside you. Agatha had drifted back up beside you, offering you sweet praises as you enjoyed your afterglow. 

Eventually, the sensation was too much and you managed to muster the strength to gently pull the toy out of you, letting out a satiated gasp when it was removed. Your entire body ached as you made a note to clean the toys, and your bedding, in the morning. 

But now, as sleep became imminent, you tossed your comforter off the bed, wiggling under your top sheet as Agatha gazed at you.

“That was amazing,” you said sleepily, head hitting the pillow as you struggled to keep your eyes open. “I’m sorry I didn’t return the favor.”

Agatha shook her head, an unusually soft smile on her face. “Don’t be. I enjoyed the show.’

Drifting off, you blinked, eyelids feeling heavier with each second you kept them open. 

“Besides,” Agatha mused as you felt yourself succumb to sleep. “You can return the favor once I get my purple back.”

You made another note to actually listen to her plans for getting back into an actual body in the morning. Maybe there was something you could do to speed along the process. For no particular reason, of course.

[gremlinmodetweeker]

Big Guy Big Belly

König is a big man, and with a big man comes a big appetite. We’re talking about a 6’10 man constantly maintaining his peak physique. He needs to be consuming as many calories and as much protein, carbs, fats, fiber and more to keep himself in fit and fighting shape.

At the canteen, he’s a nightmare. I bet that people rush to the cafeteria just to make sure they get something to eat before the big man on base rolls up. He’ll clear out the bins if he gets a chance. There’s a rumour on base that the reason König fought so hard to climb the ranks so quickly was just to be able to eat more and get away with it. Little do they know that they’re absolutely right, but König will never say that out loud. Ever. There’s some secrets you take to your grave. 

Either way, König is a menace in the canteen. He’ll pile his plate as high as he can when he gets a chance. He’s packing away all he can get in the shortest amount of time he can, and everyone has to suffer for it. The worst part is that everyone has to rush to get to the caf before König, and König knows exactly what others are doing, so he’s in a daily race against the entire base to eat his fill. It’s always a photo-finish to see who gets to the cafeteria first.  König currently has been slacking, so he’s not been eating like he normally has. Is he mad? Not really. He’ll clean out the snack cart later. 

He’s a monster late at night. Everyone knows that you need to leave the big man to his snacks, lest you face the wrath of the colossus on base. Well, wrath in a peculiar way. He just gets quiet and angry, but it’s still not a fun experience to try and fight him for a sandwich. If you take the last egg salad sandwich you’ll be at the top of his shit list for the next week. Don’t even think he won’t track you down. He’ll throw around his rank just to get his hands on the poor bastard. Nobody is safe, either.

Stiletto only once took the last pudding cup. Once. She never made that mistake again. For a week he was giving her dirty looks over a cold shoulder as he bumbled down the hall. She eventually had to give in and sacrifice a desert to be able to get back in his good graces. She still thinks he’s a massive bitch because of it. And you know what? She’s right. Everybody knows she’s right, König included, but he’ll keep going after whoever ‘steals’ ‘his’ snacks. They get along a bit better now that they’ve both advanced in rank and worked together, but there was a good period of time where Stiletto had to sleep with one eye open.

It gets a bit better for everyone when König finally finds a partner and doesn’t stay on base so often. Everyone takes a moment to pray for the poor soul who has to cook for König whenever he gets home from deployment.

See, during deployment, König can’t be such a massive bitch about food. He gets his rations, and that’s that. He can’t steal from anybody else, so he gets stuck with these pitiful MREs that barely fill him up. It’s miserable, and he’s losing weight like crazy when on the field. He’s running on fumes and burning calories like crazy as he’s risking his life out there. It’s gotten to a point where König has taken to eating with hostages post-rescue to ‘help them feel safer’ (read: get more food into his gullet). Thankfully, he puts his best foot forward when dealing with victims of trauma and ensures that he has somebody else do all the socializing while he plays with the kids after dinner. Apparently, after the inevitable shower of tears whenever kids have to face König, he becomes pretty popular. They love to use him as a jungle gym (and make fun of him) and he’s just happy to get more to eat. He’ll take being called ‘bigger than even my dad!’, being told ‘you’re weird’ or being asked ‘why are you so big and scary all the time?’ any day for a little extra to eat. He can tolerate a few kids. He won’t ever admit that hanging around them makes him want some kids of his own, or at least not to Horangi, who’s already teasing König about being a surrogate father to the kids. König tells him to keep it to himself, but Horangi is already buying things for the baby shower.

Once König finally comes home, that’s when all Hell breaks loose. This man has been starving and he needs food NOW. He won’t take no for an answer. If you don’t have something prepared, he’ll be ordering a massive order of takeout the likes of which you’ve never seen before in your life. He’ll hit multiple places on his way back to your place if he doesn’t think you’ve been able to get something together for him. If you can’t cook, he won’t even bother telling you to cook for him and just focus on getting a whole banquet of junk food ready for when he arrives home. He brings the pizzas in the door before he even brings in his own bags. You’ll have to go out and grab his bag as he sets up his personal buffet table. The worst part is despite how much he can shove down, he always buys more than he can eat, so you’ve got a couple of days worth of food to shove in the fridge at the end of the night.

If you can cook, this is a multi-day experience. Is it rewarding? Absolutely. Is it painful? Abso-fucking-lutely. He’s got you slaving for hours a day just to get him a nice home cooked meal. You’ll be going all out to get him a big enough meal. We’re thinking a tray of mac and cheese, a whole roast chicken, easily a handful of loaded baked potatoes. If you have something from your traditional cuisine, he’s not picky, he’ll gobble it up in a heartbeat. Knowing you made it for him is more than enough for him. Food is the way to a man’s heart, some say, and König will never let you go if you treat him like the king he is.

The good thing about cooking König such a big meal is that he gives back. He’s not a fan of cooking, but for the next few days he’ll take over cooking and cleaning in the kitchen. It’s just an easy way for him to give back, you know? He can’t thank you enough with words, so why not with actions?

But the best part of König giving back is that he’s an excellent cook. He cooks mostly traditional food from his culture, but he’s down for some french or italian cooking if you’re into it. He can make a mean lasagne. He does not skimp on the cheese, this man. No he’s a cheese fiend. If you’re lactose intolerant, you’ve got another thing coming for you. He will hand feed you lactaid just for the meal. If you have a dietary restriction, he’ll learn how to cook your types of meals in abundance. He’s perfect that way. Vegetarian, vegan, keto, no matter what, he’s got your back. He’s learned how to make an excellent spread for a dinner party, and part of learning to cater to others is to work around other people’s diets; his mother drilled that rule into his little head as a kid. He does it without complaint, too. For at least a week after coming home, he’s just so happy to be around food in abundance again. He’s absolutely thriving in the kitchen before the thrill wears off and he’s back to avoiding cooking like the plague again.

He loves to eat, but usually hates to cook. He’ll mostly eat takeout until he actually has to eat a nutritious meal again for a change. It’s not that cooking is awful, it’s just that he hates doing the dishes. He’d be far more inclined if he didn’t have to do the dishes afterwards. If you take over dishes, he’ll definitely step up his game for the both of you.

All in all, König loves to eat. He’s a big man with a bigger appetite, as hard as that is to believe. Once he retires he has to learn to cut back a fair bit, but he never loses his taste for sweets and snacks. It’s just something you’ll have to learn to live with.

[miserycanary]

A FIXED HEART IN YOUR HAND ᡣ𐭩 previous ⤶

♡⃛ ‘My Hell For Your Love’ alternative ending

pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley & fem!reader

synopsis: is it done? hopeless love? How Ghost is after the break-up

tags: :3.. 

Ghost swears he’s going crazy. In his eyes, the walls are dimmer and everything seems… out of place. He seems out of place. Not when you’re not there with him. “Fuck,” he grumbles, tilting his head back on the headboard of the bed you used to share with him. He knows it’s disgusting but he hasn’t had the courage to change the bedsheets since that day, too scared he’d forget how you smell. Ever since you came over for the last time to take your things, he lost everything in the apartment that reminds him of you— that reminds you guys happened. 

It seems like he’s in a worse state than he thought when even Price came up to him, asking him to hang after work shifts. Ghost knew that he was not in the best state and everyone in the base was muttering about it. Seeing as he had nothing more to lose (you were all he had), he agreed. 

The bar was filled with cigar smoke and the smell of cheap liquor. It was bustling with bodies grinding on each other everywhere. He had let himself go but his build still managed to attract stares, often getting hit on by ladies looking for someone to fix their daddy issues. And each time he turns them down until he sees a familiar figure. Like a dog, he chases someone who seems to be you but only to feel a pang of disappointment. 

The night seems to pass quickly. He’s suddenly in bed with the girl who looks like you. He knows it’s wrong to play with her, but he needs you— one way or another. It just ended up with him more frustrated. She wasn’t like you. The way she felt, her look, and her voice. Everything was so different. 

He didn’t even stay the night, unable to process the fact he laid with someone who wasn’t you. Placing some bills on the bedside table, Ghost takes one more look at her sleeping figure that paints a scowl on his face. Even the way she sleeps wasn’t like you at all. The walk back home was exhausting, with a cigar between his lips and a burden in his heart. 

His steps halted when he found himself in the familiar street of your unit. “I’m really going nuts,” he chuckled to himself, peering up to look at your unit that always had its windows open. He was about to risk it all when he heard your laughter and a voice. The sight before him made him lose it. You had a guy over. Someone who doesn’t even look like him! Ghost snaps back when he realizes he let go of his cigar. Looking down at the still burning light, he contemplated. Was it done? Were you gone from him forever? No, right? It’s a one-night stand, convinces himself.

It wasn’t a one-night stand, he realizes. Holding the wedding invitation in his hand 2 years after that. The words printed on the dedication had his stomach churning. 

‘To my old friend, Simon,

I invite you to my wedding. Thank you for being with me for many years. You have helped me become who I am today, so I would love if you’ll be there. We promised we’d be with each other during our happiest moment, right? 

All love,

Y/N’

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱: the last and final part. Go read the alternative ending! Sorry if it’s rushed!!

dividers by @cafekitsune

Please reblog!! Ask is open!

⟢ taglist is open! Comment if you want to be tagged in the next posts.

check out my other works in the masterlist: ୭!

[rafeyscurtainbangs]

Jerk - Rafe Cameron Blurb

+18 Minor DNI

Perv!Rafe x Sbf!Reader

⭐ republished ⭐

+18 Minor DNI

🪄 Warnings (contains spoilers): Rafe jacking off while the reader sleeps, cum play includes reader, language, non-consensual touching, idk pervert things

📖 based off an ask: Perv rafe jerking off while reader sleeps 🥺

✨ “Hey, sweetheart. Long time no see,” I smile, feeling my cheeks burn in embarrassment as my voice cracks with nervousness. The boys fight their laughter, giving me obnoxious looks, tormenting me further.✨

1k

Rafe’s POV:

You’re going to kill me, sweetheart. I watch as she saunters into the kitchen in her pink silky pajamas with low-cut sides and high-cut bottoms. The curve of her breast peeks through the side. She reaches up high, grabbing a glass, causing the silk to slip up. Just a taste.

Fuck me.

I can feel myself aching for her. She draws the handle up, filling her glass with water. Her lips look delicious, pink, and pouty. I can’t help but fantasize about how they’d look wrapped around my cock, drool seeping from her lips as she deepthroats my dick. Her eyes flash to mine; I quickly look away, running my fingers through my hair, returning my focus to the boys.

“Welcome back, Cameron,” Topper teases before finishing off his beer. Kelce snickers and shakes his head piling on.

“Fuck off,” I mumble as I crack open a beer for myself, watching her out of the corner of my eye as she makes herself a little snack.

“Yo, stalker. A simple ‘hello’ might work better,” Kelce mocks.

“Shut the fuck up,” I grunt, hurling a throw pillow at him, spilling his beer on his chest.

Kelce looks over my shoulder, smiling as he blots the liquid off his polo meaning only one thing… she’s behind me. Is she going to sit down with me? I scoot over slightly on the couch, giving her space just in case. She looks down at me, smiling as she steps even closer. “Hey, Rafey.”

“Hey, sweetheart. Long time no see,” I smile, feeling my cheeks burn in embarrassment as my voice cracks with nervousness. The boys fight their laughter, giving me obnoxious looks, tormenting me further.

“It’s been so long. It’s good to see you,” she coos.

“Good to see you,” I return, leveling my voice with a smoother delivery. Thank fuckin’ god. “So, what’s up? You come out here to hang out with me or…”

“Oh… umm. Sarah and I are just watchin’ a movie. I needed my charger ‘cause my phone’s gonna die. It’s in my purse.”

“Oh yeah? You need my help finding it?” I ask.

“Well… You’re sitting on it I think?” She gestures to my spot on the couch with a soft, sweet smile, making me bloom with humiliation yet again. Why would she hang out with me when she’s here with Sarah? Stop bein’ a fuckin’ idiot.

The guys can’t contain their laughter anymore, looking at me with exaggerated pity as I stand up, holding the pillow that was covers my hard-on from watching her get water alone. Kelce wheezes with laughter, catching my cover-up. I mouth to the boys to ‘shut the fuck up’, the crazed look in my eyes quieting them quick.

“Sorry about your purse,” I sigh.

“Oh. It’s all good, Rafey,” she smiles as she snags her bag. “It’s nice seeing you. We should catch up or something,” she bubbles, stepping closer for a hug. I give her a half-hug, unable to fully commit in my current state. Fuck she smells so damn good. My palm caresses the curve of her lower back making my cock press even rougher against my zipper. I look down at her in my arms, revving myself up again as I get a look straight down her slinky little tank top, the perfect view of her half-hidden tits. I swear to god I could cum untouched.

Fuck I need her.

She has always been pretty; her image has been seared into my mind since the first time I saw her, and I swear she gets even prettier every time. Even her voice is sexy. I can’t imagine what she sounds like when she speaks that filthy shit I dream she says. I want to make her cum more than anything I’ve ever wanted in my entire fuckin’ life… I want to listen to her scream my name, moan it, chant it like a fuckin’ prayer. Rafe, Rafe, Rafe. I’ve replayed that interaction in the living room all night since she left me. I can’t stop.

I had to kick the boys out early. It wasn’t enough to browse her IG; I needed to study it with my fist wrapped around my dick. I scrolled through her feed, each picture sending me further and further into the depths of my lust. She was only a few doors down, driving me insane. I cleaned up the mess on my phone, dick still hard in my hand like I had done nothing at all.

I needed the real thing.

A delicate light illuminates her skin; that silky tank top lying disheveled now, leaving hardly anything to my imagination, which up to this point has not done her justice. Clearly. She’s flawless. Her hair spills across the pillow, her pouty lips juicy, beautiful eyes shut tightly. Her chest gently rises and falls as she breathes rhythmically, hypnotic motion, so soothing to watch. I want to reach out and touch her wet pussy. Circle her pretty little clit and watch her breathing quicken.

The room is pretty loud still, the steady drone of the ceiling fan, and an old rerun of a reality show playing on the TV. The buzz fills the silence, just enough noise to cover the squelching of my hand pumping my cock through a mess of lube. What I wouldn’t do to have it be her slick, wet cunt bouncing on top of me.

I wrap both hands around my dick, pulling to the tip, biting my lip holding back my moans. My eyes roll to the back of my skull. I fight them open, not wanting to miss the chance to stroke myself this close to her. “Fuckkk princess,” I groan, moving my hands counterclockwise, rubbing my thumb over my tip, catching the precum leaking out. “Mmm… just like that, pretty. So, so fucking wet. Does that feel good?“ I breathe.

She lets out a little breath, knitting her brows cutely. She adjusts slightly, giving me a full view of her breast as one spills out. Without thinking I reach out, dusting the pad of my finger across her nipple, watching as it harden under my touch. She whimpers, goosebumps spreading across her bare arm. I do it again, circling softly this time, making her moan. Holy fucking shit.

I begin thrusting up into my fist, gripping my length, holding back every primal urge to wake her and beg for what I need. What do I need? I’ve only thought about it a million times over. My dick in her pussy. My hands on her throat. My cum flowing out of her tight hole just so I can stuff that shit back in. Fuck I want it all.

My thighs start to quake, cock throbbing, muscles clenching tight. ”I’m almost there...“ I grunt. ”Oh, f-fuck… Ugh… Mmm...“ I look down, watching as my climax spurts and spills onto my fist, pooling around her lace panties I stole when I snuck in. I finish myself off slowly, exhaling sharply as I milk out the last bits of my cum.

I lean over, kissing her forehead and then her lips gently as I slip the panties off my softening dick. I breathe a sigh of relief, finally feeling a release. She’s all I needed. I slide her used panties into my pocket, messy with my cum, but I don’t give a fuck. I’m in heaven. I wanna know what we taste like together. Round three bitch.

I swirl my fingers through what little bit of my cum remains, smudging it along her plump bottom lip. She licks it clean and I swear I can see the corner of her lips curl into a slight smile.

Dirty girl.

[eternalbuckley]

Together. — aemond targaryen

SUMMARY: Aemond and you still love each other even if you weren't together anymore. So what happens if you're hanging out with your shared group friends and he invites you to a drink in his apartment? You might end up tangled with each other in his bed and talk about your feelings the next morning.

word count: 5,658

genre: slight angst with fluff, smut with plot | afab!reader, queer!reader, bipoc!reader and plus-size!reader friendly

warnings/tropes: modern au, 18+ MDNI!! NSFW (this part is divided with dividers so you can skip the actual smut part if you want), p in v sex, no use of protection (wrap it up folks thanks), cunnilingus, creampie (again, use protection), descriptions of alcohol use, mention of tipsy reader and aemond, slight cursing, use of they pronoun once, english is not my first language, slightly proofread — if I forgot something, please let me know!

a/n: it's my first time writing p in v smut, so please bear with me, i'm still trying to figure it out! this entire fanfic turned out to be the longest piece i've ever written lmao.i hope you'll enjoy it <3 reblogs, likes and comments are appreciated and highly welcomed!

disclaimer: please do not repost or try and take ownership of my work or post this anywhere without my consent. do not translate my work and post it anywhere — i give you no permission to do that. i only post my stories here, so if you find my work anywhere else please let me know!

18+ MDNI divider by cafekitsune

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The breakup between Aemond and you was mutually decided. Both of you were quite busy with your jobs and barely had time for each other anymore, which ended in a lot of arguments. Many of them were based on miscommunication or if anyone of you felt like the other one wasn’t giving them enough attention and love. This was the reason why you both mutually decided to break up after you’ve been together for a few years, both of you thinking it was the best decision during this time.

You still loved and cared for each other, but it wasn’t the right time to be with each other, as each one of you had a stressful period of your life, and the constant arguments outweighed most of the soft moments between you. You tried to be each other’s support, but it ended up in the opposite way during this time. It was clear, to everyone who knew you, that you two were still longing for each other over the months since you broke up. You tried dating other people in hopes you could fill the void that has been there ever since you parted ways, but it didn’t work out for either of you.

Aemond and you shared the same group of friends, or at least shared a few friends that hang out together every two to three weeks. Two times you and Aemond invited the people you were seeing to hang out with your friends. Meaning you and him would see each other as well. This didn’t work out quite well because the people you were seeing noticed how you and Aemond constantly looked in each other’s direction. They quickly realized that neither Aemond nor you stopped loving one another or knew that you still had some sort of feelings for the other one, even if you both tried to ignore or deny it, you knew the truth.

Your friends noticed this longing dynamic between you two ever since you told them that you decided to part ways for now. No one could say that they didn’t see the longing stares both of you had whenever the other one wasn’t looking, or the gentle touches you had on each other from time to time that were just lingering quite too long for friends.

Many times, Aemond would ask his sister, Helaena, who was one of your closest friends, if you had already found someone else or how you were doing. Especially if he noticed that you seemed off one day you and your friends hung out, he’d immediately try to find a moment to get to text or talk to Helaena alone and ask her about it. If she was able to tell him something, she would give him a few details. And you would do the same if you noticed something different about him and asked Helaena most of the time. Sometimes you would go to Aegon, in hopes that he hopefully might know something. It would depend on the situation. It was hard to ignore or deny that you two still deeply cared about each other.

Both of you were currently hanging out with your friends again, sitting next to Helaena and having your legs over hers as you laughed with her. Watching the boys as they turned on the fire of the campfire. Aemond sat opposite from you and Helaena and tried not to look over at you too much and to focus more on the conversation he had with one of your friends. It was a cozy and quiet night; everyone was having a good time. Helaena excused herself for a moment to get herself another drink as you took a swig from your own bottle. You noticed how she slightly nodded in Aemond’s direction as she went back into the kitchen of the house. A few seconds later, you saw how he slowly walked over to you.

“Can I sit down?” He asked with a soft tone in his voice and motioned to the seat next to you. You looked up to him and nodded, slightly scooting to the side to make more room for him to sit down. Your arms brushed against one another as he sat down next to you, sending a slight shiver down your spine, but you tried to play it down and didn’t pay attention to it.

You took another swig from your bottle, even if it was almost empty. You could have gotten up to get another bottle, but you didn’t want to ruin the moment with Aemond. You haven’t really had any conversations with him in the past few weeks, only having your eyes on each other. It was quite a comfortable atmosphere between you, as you watched the fire and listened to its crackles, but he had his eyes on you, admiring you as the fire cast a beautiful light on your face. He reached out and removed something from your hair, causing you to look at him for a moment, slightly confused. But in the short moment his fingers brushed over your hair sent a warmth through your body.

“It was just a tiny bug,” he tried to keep his voice low. Your lips turned into a small smile, “Thank you.”

Neither of you really knew what to say, you wanted to have a conversation with him, but you didn’t quite know what you could talk about. You could have asked him about his life, what he was up to at the moment, but you weren’t sure if he was even ready to talk about it.

As you wanted to ask something he got pulled away by Aegon. “Sorry, my lady,” he had his hands on Aemond’s shoulders and grinned, “I need my brother for a moment! He will be back at your service in a moment,” he giggled, clearly drunk as he dragged Aemond away.

You sighed with a smile on your lips and didn’t stop him, sometimes it was hilarious when Aegon was drunk. Occasionally, you wished things were different, but it was what you and Aemond had decided, so you must stick with it. You slowly nodded to yourself and got into the house to get another bottle, joining Helaena and completely missing the way Aemond longingly looked over to you as his brother talked his ear off.

A few hours later, you were talking with Helaena again, sitting together with Aemond on a bench in front of the campfire. He sat next to you, and you felt the warmth of the flames and his body, it was a pleasant feeling that filled you. His arm was resting behind you on the backrest of the bench you were sitting on. Helaena left you and Aemond alone for a moment after she had finished her story.

When she left, he slightly leaned into you and whispered into your ear, his voice casual. “Would you mind joining me for a drink back in my apartment?” He was nervous about how you would react. He already expected that you would refuse him, but he raised his eyebrows for a short moment as you accepted his invitation. Aemond cleared his throat and nodded, happy that you said yes.

A few minutes later you and him said your goodbyes to your friends. Helaena had a smirk on her lips as she hugged you. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do with my partner, babe,” she teased you and whispered into your ear.

He was slightly nervous as he led you to his car and opened the passenger side for you. You occasionally looked at each other during the drive to his apartment but didn’t really talk with each other, perhaps both of you were too nervous?

One drink turned into two, and two into three. Both of you were slightly tipsy by now and were talking with each other as if nothing had ever happened. You sat next to each other on his couch, and he had one arm on the backrest, resting behind your head. Your legs were slightly bent in his direction. You noticed the way he looked down at them sometimes, and you wished he’d just grab them, but both of you knew that neither of you would dare to cross the line without completely knowing if the other one wanted it too. But you both wanted it deeply. The conversation died down between you a few minutes ago, you’ve just looked at each other. The air had already been thick before, but it was getting worse in that very moment. You found yourself looking down on his lips, and he did too. Both of you leaned into each other but stopped when you were only a few movements away from each other’s faces. Should you really give in to what you’ve wanted ever since you broke up all these months ago or not?

You felt his breath on your face and just wanted to give in, you wanted to feel his lips on yours so badly. You could swear you stopped breathing when he carefully brushed your hair out of your face and cupped your cheek, you leaned into his touch and held his gaze.

“Aemond…” You dared to break the silence with a shaky whisper. You craved his touch, as much as he craved yours. Your lips were parted as your gaze went down to his lips.

“Tell me to stop if you don’t want it,” he looked up from your lips into your eyes to find any hesitance, but he saw the way your pupils dilated as he held your gaze again. “I don’t want you to stop,” you whispered eagerly and hummed as he immediately captured your lips in a passionate and desperate kiss. Both of your tensed shoulders relaxed eventually,

His hand still cupped your cheek, stroking it with his thumb, your hand found his cheeks immediately and pulled him into you, while his other arm, which was resting on the backrest of his couch, wrapped around your waist to pull you into his lap. You straddled him and deepened the kiss as both of you opened your mouth to feel each other’s tongue, completely losing yourselves in the kiss. It’s what you’ve both been craving, and neither of you wanted to stop the moment. You didn’t want to think of the possible outcome or how it would change the current dynamic between you two, maybe you would find your way back to each other or it wouldn’t change a thing. Maybe it would just stay at making out with each other, but both of you wanted and needed more.

He missed to feel your skin against his, the way your curves felt when he traced them. The way you’d always react to his touch, arching your back whenever his hand found its way between your thighs. The way you always reacted to his kisses, whether it was a more heated or soft and slow kiss. You loved each of them, and so did he. Aemond loved the way your hands felt on his skin, the way you’d always end up tracing his arms, hands or face whenever you cuddled or were next to each other. He appreciated and missed these moments with you. It may only have been a few months since you two broke up, but the more intimate moments between you had been missing way before you eventually parted ways.

Both of you slowly pulled away from each other, faces still close as you spoke against his lips. “Are you sure we should be doing this?” You whispered, your voice slightly raspy from the lack of air in your lungs. Both of his hands had found their way to your hips and gently circled his fingers on your clothed skin, squeezing your skin.

He nodded. “I… I just need you, darling. I’m sure,” his voice was low and raspy as well. His good eye filled with desire as you looked at him and kissed him again. “Me too,” you whispered between kisses.

Aemond lifted you by gripping down on your thighs and placed you underneath him on the couch. He pulled away from you with a cheeky smile and kneeled in front of you as he pulled you on the edge of his couch. His hands roamed over your thighs to the button of your pants. Aemond looked up to you, slightly asking if he could continue. You nodded and didn’t break eye contact with him as he slowly opened the button of your pants and motioned for you to lift your hips so he could pull off your pants. His gaze never left yours, and he noticed the way you had your lower lip between your teeth as you lifted your hips eagerly, knowing what would follow. His fingers gently traced over your now exposed skin. His lips found the skin of your hip bone, which was still covered only seconds ago. His eye closed for a moment to capture this moment in his mind.

He pressed open kisses on your covered and uncovered skin, “I missed this so much,” he mumbled as he firmly but also gently gripped down your thighs while looking up at you again, silently asking if he could part your legs. You slightly sat up and parted them, causing him to smirk and move between them. His hands brushed over the flesh of your thighs and caressed them as he slowly moved them up to brush over your panties. Your breath hitched as he brushed over your still-clothed heat.

“Please, Aemond,” you whimpered as he teased your clothed clit with his finger while a smirk was on his lips. You hated how desperate you were for him, but you finally needed to feel him again. In every way you could have him. “Don’t tease me now.”

“Very well,” he hooked his fingers with the fabric of your panties on your hips and slowly pulled them down. You lifted your hips again, so it was easier for him to take your panties off.

A soft hum left his lips as soon as he tossed your panties away and saw your already glistening heat. He leaned down and pressed more kisses on the area of your heat, but not where you needed him. It frustrated you, and that made him chuckle. He always used to love to tease you, but he knew it wasn’t the perfect time for that right now, as it only tortured him as well. He couldn’t wait any longer and just wanted to get his mouth on you, his growing bulge in his pants could wait for a few moments. He wanted to give you the pleasure first. A moan left your lips as soon as he pressed his lips on your clit and made eye contact with you again. Aemond took a long drag through your slit with his tongue, your mouth stayed slightly open. He groaned into you as you grabbed one of his hands that were still on your thighs and held on to him as he devoured your cunt. He missed those pretty sounds that left your lips, especially how you tasted. For a short moment his mind went completely blank.

He started sucking on your clit and licked through your folds, causing you to tighten your grip on his hand, nails digging into his skin and your moans to get louder. He flicked his tongue in long and slower licks and changed the technique every so often to a faster and shorter pace. Completely devouring everything he could get from you. You didn’t even think about keeping it quiet, as it was overwhelming to feel his tongue on you. All the build-up tension over the past months is finally being relieved. Who would be better than him? No one.

You felt the all too well-known knot in your stomach, signalling that you were close to your climax. Aemond knew you were close as he noticed the way your panting increased, and your head fell back against the backrest of his couch. You cried out for more and wrapped one of your legs over his shoulder, which caused him to moan into you.

“Fuck– Aemond, I’m close! I…” Your grip on his hand tightened even more, if that was even possible, your back arched, and eyes closed as you focused on the building pleasure in your stomach.

“Don’t hold yourself back, darling. Come all over my face,” he panted against your cunt and got his mouth back on your swollen clit to sloppily circle his tongue around it, savouring each second while being between your thighs. Your mind turned blank as he continued to pleasure you, he still knew how to take care of you perfectly.

A strangled moan left your lips as you came on his tongue a few moments later, your legs slightly shaking as he fucked you with his tongue through your orgasm. Aemond could swear he almost lost his mind as he heard your moan and tasted you on his tongue, his hips humping into his couch. A soft chuckle left your lips as you exhaled and looked down at him. He was still kneeling between your legs, and his chin was glistening with your arousal and some of his spit. After you gained some strength again, you leaned forward and kissed him while your hands were on his cheeks, moaning as you tasted yourself.

“You did so well for me,” he praised you with a whisper as he pulled away from the kiss. “Can I take you to my bed or do you–“

“Please,” you nodded eagerly with a hushed voice, “Please do, Aemond.”

He gently picked you up, his hands digging into the skin of your thighs and placed open kisses on your exposed neck as he carried you into his bedroom, kicking the door as you were inside to close it behind him. He carefully placed you on his bed and hovered over you as he continued to kiss your neck and jaw. Your hands found the hem of his shirt and pulled on it, he moved his head away from your neck so you could pull off his shirt. You tossed it somewhere into his room, not caring about where it landed and traced his chest tenderly. He captured your lips in a kiss, his hips slightly buckling against you as you wrapped your legs around his hips to pull him closer to you. You took off the rest of your clothes from each other in a few motions, leaving both of you naked as you straddled his lap. His hands roamed over your thighs, caressing them as you leaned down to leave kisses on his chest while feeling his length underneath you.

He sharply inhaled as you wrapped one hand around his aching cock and stroked him a few times which already left him gripping down on your thighs, and he wasn’t even inside you yet. You smirked because of his reaction, you understood how he felt and eventually positioned his tip at your entrance and slowly sank down on his length, feeling how he stretched your walls. A low, needy moan escaped both of your lips, your hands on his chest, holding him down on his mattress, and his were holding you by your hips. You waited a few moments before you started to roll your hips, finding a pleasant rhythm for both of you. Aemond was completely at your mercy, it took him his entire strength not to come immediately. The sounds you made and how your hands roamed over his torso only added more levels to the pleasure he felt because of you. His body shivered, and his heartbeat increased. He felt you clenching around him and groaned with a hitched sound.

“Fuck you feel so good, darling,” he moaned. Your gazes met again, and you wished you could stay like this for eternity. His face was flushed, his back slightly arched, and his mouth agape as he didn’t hold back any sounds anymore.

This only reminded you of the beginning of your relationship, he barely voiced any hints of his pleasure and barely made any sounds whenever you slept with each other, but over the time, he let his walls down and started to be more vocal. This meant the time you were apart didn’t change that factor about him, and you loved it even more. You slightly leaned forward, feeling him deeper inside of you and grabbed his hands to intertwine your fingers, the slightly changed position adding more pleasure to both of you.

You continued to roll your hips and to hold eye contact with him, moaning his name repeatedly. After a while, you pulled him up against you, a soft gasp leaving your mouth as you captured his lips in a heated, passionate kiss, and he wrapped his arms around your waist. You wrapped your arms around his neck and stopped moving for a short moment, enjoying the close and intimate moment between you as you kissed each other. He lifted you from his cock in a quick movement, both of you whimpering at the loss of each other. He rolled on top of you and gently placed you underneath him, your legs on either side of his while he slowly slid into you again and captured your lips in a kiss again. A soft gasp left your lips, and he used the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth. He held him up with one arm while the other held you by your hip and thrust into you with a steady, slow pace. He swallowed your moans as he continued kissing you. You gripped on his biceps, leaving crescent marks in his skin and had your eyes shut.

He fastened his pace as he felt you clenching around him.  “I can’t get enough of you, darling,” his voice hitched as his climax neared, “I don’t think I can go much longer.”

Skin slapping against each other, and moans filled the room. He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck and placed sloppy kisses on there as his hips snapped against yours. You knew he was getting close to his climax as his movements were getting sloppier. He tried to hold on, wanting to get you close for a second time the night, but it only left him whimpering against your lips as he kissed them.

“You can come inside me, Aemond,” you panted, your eyelids half-lidded as you met his gaze. “Are… Are you sure?” His breath hitched in his throat. He groaned after you nodded and lifted his head, so he could look at you as he thrusts into you once more before you felt his seed filling you up, his cock twitching inside of you.

He had a satisfied expression and moved one hand between your bodies, his thumb rubbing on your clit to get you over the edge as well while he continued to thrust into you. A cry left your mouth, and you pulled his face close to yours.

“Come for me, angel,” he exhaled.

You clenched around him, which caused him to whimper from feeling slightly overstimulated as you came shortly after him all over his cock, your legs shaking and moaning. He continued to pound into you in a slow pace to help you ride out your climax. Both of you tried to catch your breaths from the pleasure you both just felt after months of not feeling it both of you fucked out. With a low whimper, he slowly pulled out of you, and collapsed on top of you, your arms wrapped around him. Both of your bodies were covered in sweat and were heated up, your chests heaving. His face was in the crook of your neck, your fingers gently tracing his back, which caused him to get goosebumps. He occasionally placed soft kisses on your neck while he gently traced the sides of your body. After a while, he got up and helped you to get up, holding you as your legs slightly gave up for a short moment.

“Do you want me to help you clean up?” Aemond asked, a tender tone in his voice, but you shook your head. “You can wait in your bed for me,” you smiled at him affectionally, which he happily returned. He was happy that you would be staying over the night. He gave you his shirt so you could go to the toilet after he made sure you were able to stand. When you came back, he already laid in his bed and waited for you to join him. He pulled the blanket over you and him.

Neither of you said anything and just enjoyed the moment while it lasted, even if it meant you wouldn’t speak about it the next morning and act like you just didn’t have your best sex in a long while. Both of you wrapped your arms around each other as you slowly drifted off to sleep. You and I finally had a good sleep after months again, laying arm in arm felt right. And it was right, was it?

A soft hum left your lips as you slowly woke up the next morning, feeling completely comfortable but slightly sore. Your eyes immediately opened and widened as you realized where you were and what you did last night with Aemond. Your back was turned towards him with his arm loosely over your waist. You let out a quiet sigh and slowly wiggled yourself out of his grip, trying not to wake him up. After you successfully got out of his bed without waking him up, you noticed that you were wearing his shirt. As you picked up your shirt, you quietly left his bedroom and got dressed after you picked up your panties and pants that were in his living room. You put his shirt on the backrest of his couch as memories from last night flooded your mind. The pleasure you felt, god it was so fucking good. You missed him and how well he always treated you and exactly knew how to get you over the edge quickly, but what if he regretted it? You didn’t want to face him or the situation, you were afraid of what could happen when he would wake up.

You deeply inhaled and made your way to the door to put your shoes back on, took your handbag and were ready to leave without saying goodbye. But you sighed as you grabbed the door handle.

What if this night was a sign for both of you? What if that was the sign that you were ready to be with each other again?

You cursed yourself, took off your shoes again and left your handbag on the floor next to them. You were willing to see what could and would happen as soon as he would wake up. You decided to wait until he did, waiting on his couch. Saying you weren’t nervous would be a lie. While you waited, you paced his living room a few times, thinking about what you could possibly say to him.

You nervously waited almost an hour until you heard noises from his bedroom. He woke up with a low groan and stretched his body, the events from last night filling his mind immediately. He sighed as he opened his eyes, rubbed his good eye and noticed that the side you slept on was already empty. He immediately sat up, and his eye roamed the room, he noticed that your shirt wasn’t on the floor anymore. ‘They already left…’ He thought and groaned as he cursed himself for having possibly ruined the only chance to get back together with you. He wanted to make things right and give you the love you deserved, not like this immediately.

What if the events of last night chased you away from him even further? What if there was no chance left anymore with you?

You fiddled with your fingers and immediately looked up from them as you saw him walking out of his bedroom. He yawned and rubbed his good eye again. Maybe he hasn’t noticed you yet? But as soon as his eye focused on you, he stopped in his tracks. “I… I thought you had already left.”

“I… Well, I was about to leave but…” You stood up from his couch, “But I don’t think this would have been my best option.”

 “Oh… I…” He slowly nodded, considering what to say, and walked into his kitchen, which was connected to his living room. You nervously fiddled with your fingers and followed his movements with your eyes but didn’t move the rest of your body. “I’m glad you didn’t leave,” he mumbled as he made himself a coffee, but you heard him, and a small smile formed on your lips.

“Do you want one as well?” He pointed to his coffee mug, but you shook your head and thanked him for the offer. He poured the coffee into his mug after it was done brewing and then walked up to you.

Both of you sat down next to each other, but there was a tiny distance between you. Neither of you said anything for a moment until he broke the tense silence between you. “Do you… Want to talk about last night?” He spoke softly, the nervousness in his voice was noticeable.

You nodded and turned your gaze in his direction, turning your body towards him, “I think we should.” Aemond inhaled and nodded as well, unsure what to say for a moment before he continued. “Do you regret it?”

“No,” you paused for a moment, “Not at all.” His shoulders relaxed immediately, “Neither do I.”

“Can I be honest with you?” You asked, a hint of nervousness in your voice again. After he nodded, you continued, “I… Uhm… I miss you. I miss us. I know we decided to part ways because of all the things that were going on back then but… I never stopped thinking about you or the time we shared. And last night… Maybe it was a sign? And maybe it was what we needed to realize that we’re ready to be with each other again.”

Aemond didn’t respond immediately, he was quite stunned, but he felt the same and agreed with you completely. He noticed how you continued to fiddle with your fingers and put down his coffee mug to gently lean to you and grab your hands to distract you. The contact calmed you down a little bit. You looked down at your hands as he brushed over the top of your hands with his thumbs. He still knew what calms you down, and you appreciated it a lot.

“I feel the same, darling,” he whispered softly, “I tried to move on, but it was impossible. There was always something missing in my life without you. I couldn’t stop looking at you whenever we hung out with our friends, and I…” He paused, “I still love you. I never stopped loving you, and when I woke up and thought you had already left, I was angry with myself for possibly having ruined any chances with you. You’re… You’re simply the best thing that has happened to me, and I don’t want to lose you entirely.”

You squeezed his hand and looked at him, “Nothing is ruined. I… I never stopped loving you either, Aemond.” You loved him, you always have. Many nights, you’ve found yourself thinking about the rest of your life with him together. How you’d grow old with him, maybe living somewhere peaceful. Together. Maybe you’d have a dog or more than one? Maybe a cat? Or any other animals you could take care of together. Both of you even had thought about adopting a dog or cat together when you were still together. You two already had different name ideas, one of them being Vhagar.

He smiled and scooted closer to you to lean his forehead against yours while he still held your hands tightly and gently. Maybe you were able to have a chance again. “Do you want to give us… Maybe another chance? I… I can’t continue living like this anymore. Every night, I think about you before I fall asleep, and you’re the first thought in the morning when I wake up. Wishing you were in my arms like you always used to. I just… Miss it,” he admitted quietly. His vulnerability was noticeable.

“I’d like to try again,” you smiled while tears built up in your eyes, completely out of happiness. You’ve been hoping for this moment for so long, and now you were sitting here together. Where it all started first because the first kiss you had with him before you were a couple happened in this apartment, on his couch in the same place you sat on currently.

Both of you smiled and fondly looked at one another before you eventually finally leaned in and captured his lips in a slow and tender kiss. He continued to brush his thumb over your hand and hummed into the kiss with a smile. He was truly happy. He pulled you into a hug after you pulled away from each other, stroking your head as he put his on top of yours. You closed your eyes and wrapped your arms around his waist. It was everything you needed, and maybe the break between you was needed to find each other again with a better mindset.

“I missed this,” you whispered after a while. “I missed this too. I missed you,” he admitted and kissed the top of your head. You finally had him back, he was your safe space, and you were his. And you both won’t let the other one go again. No matter what, you’d be able to get through everything together.

[devil-in-hiding]

imagine there’s a bar near the base the 141 are at. The bar caters to an older crowd, always playing classic rock songs and such. Obviously this is Prices favourite bar. All the songs he loves, pool tables and dart boards all around, the whole building has a nice old pub kind of feel. It’s a good place for him to unwind, most of the patrons there are in their late 40s to early 50s, they��re all there there to just unwind and relax after a work day. It’s the kind of bar people either go to with a small group of friends to hang out, or on their own to relax. It’s not the kind of place to go if you want a party, so of course there aren’t usually too many young people. So of course, imagine Johns surprise when the prettiest little bird plops down onto the bar stool next him. Big smile and bright eyes as she orders her drink, placing her ID down on the bar. John can’t help but sneak a glance at the card, looking at her name and age. And like he suspected, she was only in her early twenties. As she waits for her drink, she pulls out her phone, scrolling through her social media (Tumblr) and humming along to music that’s playing. Price keeps sneaking glances at her, admiring her out of the corner of his eyes. He’s pleasantly surprised to see her singing softly to the music, not expecting someone her age to know all these older rock songs. Eventually she notices his lingering gaze, looking over to him with such a sweet smile and she holds out her hand to shake his. She introduces herself, he introduces her, and they talk. Once she finishes her drink he offers to buy her another, and another, and another. As the night goes on, she asks if maybe he can walk her home, to which of course he accepts. When they get to her door she invites him in, but he declines.

“Oh pretty, I’d love to really.” He says with a smile as he puts a hand on her waist, “But you’re drunk, s’not right luv.”

He leans down and kisses her. Not the type of hot, lust filled kisses she’s usually used to receiving at men, or boys rather, at the end of the evening. But soft, passion filled, sweet kiss. He pulls back, and takes a small notebook from his back pocket, writing down his phone number on a page before ripping it off and giving it to her.

“Call me though, ya?” He says, giving her another kiss, this time on the cheek, before turning to leave.

-🫧

now this is what i’m talking about )): i need him so bad he’d take such good care of me and i would be the BEST little girlfriend)):

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 24 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley intended to take care of a few important things while he had the week off from work, but a quick visit to base brought with it a change of plans.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, adult language, smut, very hands-on Bradley, spanking, 18+

Length: 3500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

The following day, instead of dressing in a uniform or flight suit, Bradley pulled on jeans and a tropical print shirt while he watched you get yourself ready for work.

"You look cute," he murmured as you wiggled into a dress and some simple flats. "And I like it that you're officially living here now instead of just staying for a few days."

"The commute is not ideal," you told him immediately. "But this is." You placed your hand on his abs before giving him the sweetest kiss that left him soft inside. "This is ideal."

Fuck. He was so in love it was insane. As soon as he was back in your presence for a few hours, having sex and eating pasta, he could barely remember how miserable he'd been on that deployment. It was like nothing else mattered as long as he kept coming back to you.

"Let me pack your lunch," he whispered, tilting your chin up for another one of those kisses. Then he was on his way to the kitchen before he could make you late for school. Before he got home, you filled the refrigerator with everything he liked to eat, and he inhaled two yogurts and some peanut butter toast while he made your sandwich. 

The notes you opened from the box he sent were on the kitchen counter, and he smiled. Nat covered for him big time on Christmas Eve so he could make that happen. He was excited to get to see her when he stopped by North Island, but he had to get you to work first.

"You don't need to drop me off. It's so far out of the way," you told him as you appeared with your tote bag. "I'll drive myself."

When he pouted, you laughed. "Come on, Gorgeous. I want to. I need to stop on base anyway."

"Oh, can you remind Marty and Nat about Career Day?" you asked, holding your bag open for your lunch.

"Nat's coming, too? You'll have the whole of the Navy there, Baby."

"The kids would love that."

Bradley narrowed his eyes. "As long as I'm still the favorite."

"You're irreplaceable," you promised.

You weren't exaggerating one bit when you said the commute was a killer. Bradley hummed along to the radio and held your hand, barely making it through the Starbucks drive-thru line and up to your school before the last minute that you needed to be there.

"I love you. Bye," you told him, kissing him quickly before jumping out the passenger door and running up the sidewalk with your enormous drink in one hand. He was absolutely addicted to the coffee now as well, and after he was sure you made it inside, he sipped his own cup as he drove back down the highway.

It was strange to be going through the guard gates this late in the morning, and when he approached the hangar in his street clothes, he heard Nat's voice and sassy whistle immediately. 

"Looking good, Rooster. Did you forget to do your laundry? Did you forget what time work started while you were deployed?" she called, and he made a point to mess up her hair when she gave him a tight hug. "You're the worst."

"I missed you too, Nat," he told her with a laugh. "Thanks for looking after my girl."

She shrugged and said, "I'm always in the market for drinking wine and talking about you behind your back. Plus, she's actually great. Hanging out with her is the best."

"Yeah," he replied, laughing harder. "That's why I want to do it all the time. I intend to do it forever."

One of her dark eyebrows shot up, and she smirked as she said, "Like forever, forever?"

He ducked his head and cleared his throat. "Yeah, but engagement rings are expensive." Natasha screeched and punched him in the shoulder. "Why are you like this?" he asked as she smacked him several times and jumped around excitedly.

Bradley was saved from being attacked when Maverick walked in with his familiar clipboard in hand and a frown on his face. "Phoenix, you're supposed to be in the tower. Rooster, welcome back. Why aren't you dressed?"

"My vacation days got approved," Bradley replied as Natasha quietly crept away. "I'm off the rest of the week. Didn't anyone tell you?"

"It's probably in my emails." Maverick's frown faded away as he pulled Bradley in for a hug. "I was a little worried for a minute there that you'd end up back in Norfolk." He slapped him on the back. "If you're off all week, why are you here?"

Bradley chuckled. "I just wanted to see everyone. Like you said, I was a little worried about Norfolk, too."

Maverick eyed him closely. "And did I hear you say something about an engagement ring?"

It wasn't like there was anything to hide. Bradley figured it was pretty obvious to everyone by now that his relationship with you was the real deal. Hell, Maverick even compared it to his own parents. "Yeah, I'm going to buy one this month. I just need to juggle some finances around to make sure I can get her something really pretty. But I'm going to start looking today."

A slow nod turned into a beaming smile, and then Maverick said, "Before you do anything, I have something you might want to know about."

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

You were dead on your feet at work. Staying up half the night making love and snuggling left you with a smile on your face, but you couldn't stop yawning. Your students noticed right away as you drained your coffee and groaned when the bell rang signaling the start of class.

"Did you have a hard time sleeping?" Jayden asked.

"A little bit," you replied, remembering the way you had to keep pinching yourself to make sure Bradley's strong arm wrapped around you all night was real.

"Was there a loud noise that kept you up?" Nia asked.

You tried not to snort as you thought about Bradley's moans and grunts in your ear as he fucked you from behind. "Something like that. It's time to review our spelling words."

Even though you insisted that Bradley didn't need to drive you to work, he did, and he promised he'd be back right on time to pick you up at the end of the day. But he was such a liar. He arrived at your classroom fifteen minutes before dismissal time with rosy cheeks and eighteen envelopes.

"Lieutenant Bradshaw's here!" Nia called out when your boyfriend knocked on the door before slipping inside. 

He made a beeline right to you, placing a rather innocent kiss on your cheek. "I hope you don't mind, but I wanted to drop these off," he said, holding up the envelopes. The top one had Jackie's name on it, and your heart soared. Butterflies took off. You had to work really hard not to kiss him again.

"We don't mind," you told him, and you watched him pass out the individual notes he must have written for your students while he was deployed. All eyes were on him as he walked around your classroom, delivering envelopes and answering questions.

"When did you get home from the Atlantic Ocean?"

"Was the food good on the aircraft carrier?"

"Are you coming back for Career Day on Friday?"

Bradley took everything in stride like he always did, but his eyes returned to yours frequently, and his flushed cheeks left you feeling dizzy.

"I got home yesterday," he said, voice deep and commanding as he set the last of his envelopes down on Violet's desk. "The food was terrible. So bad. Nothing like the Pacific Fleet. Nowhere near as good as what you ate on your field trip to North Island. I'm thinking about writing a letter to complain."

"You should," Violet told him seriously. "Yummy, balanced meals are so important."

"You're so right," he replied with a nod. "And yes, I'll be back on Friday for Career Day. Your teacher worked so hard on it, I wouldn't miss it for anything." You were gripping the edge of your desk now as he smiled at you.

"I didn't know you were allowed to wear anything except your uniforms," marveled Oliver.

Bradley looked down at his patterned shirt and laughed. "Should I stick with the flight suit for Friday?"

Then the dismissal bell rang, and your kids started to scramble. You usually had them packed up and ready to go a few minutes early, but Bradley was clearly more exciting than the end of the school day. 

"Don't forget about the spelling test tomorrow!" you called out as they all exited the room in a mass of chaos after high fiving your boyfriend. "Thanks for surprising us," you said as you spun to face him.

"Thanks for being so perfect that I can't stay away from you."

Your cheeks blazed with warmth as you ducked against his chest. Muscular arms wrapped you up in a hug as you muttered, "Did you remind Natasha and Marty about Friday?"

"Mmhmm."

"And did you get to see Maverick?"

He paused before squeezing you a little tighter and kissing the top of your head. "Uh, yes. I did. Now will you let me take you home so I can get back to my busy schedule of eating delicious food, napping and fucking you senseless?"

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

Bradley spent the following day unpacking more of your stuff while you were at work. You had all these fancy things he needed to make room for. Like an air fryer. And a rice cooker. Things he would have never used otherwise, but he didn't mind having them here now. 

He took breaks to read from the journal you kept while he was away, often smiling and laughing at what you'd written in your daily log. It was no wonder he fell in love with you through your writing; you were just the same as you were in person and so authentic this way. Then he read about the day you helped Edith with some chores, and he sprawled out on the couch with a groan.

You were the sweetest thing in his life. One time, Vanessa told him that Edith was annoying and only wanted attention. He rolled his eyes then, and he rolled them again now. She was elderly. Of course she wanted attention. But Bradley knew she also had arthritis, and helping her with yard work was fast and painless for him. He couldn't imagine you saying anything like that.

Bradley slipped into a hazy daydream, thinking about how he wanted to propose to you as his feet hung over the end of the couch. He wasn't going to last long now, and he knew it. Not with that ring tucked away in a Zip-lock bag which was duct taped underneath the bathroom sink vanity behind the pipes. If nothing else, he knew it was there, and he could rip it down any time he felt like asking you to marry him, but he wanted it to be special. Really special.

Maybe he could write something for you. Maybe he should take you out to dinner again. There had to be a way to make it just right so you couldn't say no.

After a few more minutes of indulging in the fantasy of having you as his wife, he stood up and attempted to use the air fryer to make lunch. Pretty soon he gave up and made a sandwich instead before walking next door to knock on Edith's door.

"Bradley!" she said, pulling the door open for him. "You're home. Your girlfriend told me you were deployed earlier this month."

"I just got back on Monday. A little bruised, but no worse for the wear," he told her with a smile. "I wanted to see if you needed help with anything."

"Oh, your sweet girlfriend already changed my light bulbs for me," she told him. Then she lowered her voice and smirked. "She's a looker."

"Yeah," he confirmed with a nod. "She's Gorgeous. She also moved in with me, so if I'm not home and you need something, you can always ask her, okay?" 

Edith fretted her hands, and Bradley leaned back out the open front door, knowing she wouldn't agree to his help unless she paid him in some way. Truthfully, he really did feel like playing the piano anyway. "It looks like you've got some weeds that need to be pulled, and your downspout is loose again. How about you think of a cool song to teach me, and I'll be back in like fifteen minutes?"

He ducked outside before she could answer, but he could hear her tapping away at the piano keys as he yanked some dried up weeds out of the soft soil. While he worked, he pictured the sheet music that Edith kept stacked up inside the piano bench, and he started to come up with an idea. The more he thought about the pages stacked up in his own house, the more he liked his plan. 

He was all smiles when he sat down for her to teach him how to play a Bob Dylan classic, and he was still whistling the tune when he went to pick you up from work.

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

On Thursday night, Bradley had you snuggling on top of him on the couch when you should have really been going over your final plans for Career Day. "You are such a distraction," you whispered, arms and legs wrapped up with his to keep warm since you were wearing nothing but his old sweatshirt.

His fingers flexed on the back of your thigh as he smirked and turned his head to face you instead of the TV. "And you're the best for helping me relax all week." His breath was warm on your cheek, and he kissed you there, saying, "Don't stress about tomorrow. It'll be perfect."

You nuzzled your cheek against his shoulder. "I still have to put all of my guests in order. I need to schedule the most impressive presentation last, for the grand finale."

"Okay, so put me last then, Gorgeous."

You grinned and tried not to giggle. "I was actually thinking Marty."

Bradley's hand slid up from your thigh, smoothing over your butt, and you knew what was coming even before you clenched with need. Bradley smacked you one time, and you moaned as he soothed away the sting with his palm. You were instantly aroused, fingers tingling and ears burning. Bradley's dark eyes were wide, searching your face, questioning what he should do next. When you nodded once, he grunted, and that big hand landed on you again, breaking the silence.

"Fuck," you gasped, rear end stinging as Bradley cupped and squeezed you, pulling you a few inches up his body so he could kiss you. His cock was getting hard in his gym shorts, pressing against your belly, driving you wild.

"You like that?" he whispered between heated kisses, but you barely wanted to take the time to breathe.

"Yes," you replied, mouth mashing against his. Both of his hands came up to your waist, yanking the sweatshirt over your head and dropping it on the floor. Then your lips were back on his as you moaned into his mouth.

The sex had been so sweet since he got home, and neither of you could be blamed for wanting so much of it after going so long without. But this was something else. Bradley's fingers dug into your flesh, and his kisses were rough. Demanding. You spread your legs a little wider, arching your back, silently begging for him to spank you again.

He did not disappoint.

You were aching, whining his name, enthralled by the cocky smirk on his face and the possessiveness in his eyes. "You want more, Gorgeous?" he asked, voice dark as his smirk grew. When you nodded vigorously, he kissed your lips so softly before he said, "You'll schedule me last for Career Day? I think it's where I belong, since I'm the most impressive."

Oh my god. He was playing with you now. You knew he wasn't actually jealous of Marty or Nat or any of the classroom parents, but he knew that you knew that your students would always think he was the most impressive. You would, too.

When you tried to kiss him, he pulled his face away from yours as he stroked your tender rear end with his fingertips. "Yes," you promised, "I'll put you last. You're the most impressive."

"Good girl." 

You gasped as he spanked you one more time, then he kissed you before pushing you up so you were straddling his thighs. When he yanked down his gym shorts, you were treated to the sight of his cock, thick and hard, smacking against his abs.

"Clearly I think you're impressive," he grunted, licking his thumb before running it along your swollen clit. It took no more coaxing before you had your hand wrapped around his cock, guiding him right where you wanted. You sank down on him, already a mess as he thrust up into you, hard.

"Bradley!" His hands were on your breasts, cupping you as he bucked his hips up again.

"Look at you," he rasped, fucking you rough while his hands were gentle. You bounced up and down, bracing yourself awkwardly on the too small couch. "Where do you want me to touch you?" he asked, eyes glued on your face and body. "Show me."

Without hesitation, you wrapped your fingers around his right wrist and moved his hand back to your butt. "A little more," you told him, voice shaking as he fucked you so good. Then he spanked you again and again, and you could feel it everywhere as you cried out. 

It was too much and not enough, and you bit your lip as he alternated between soothing you and spanking you until you were shaking, orgasm building. "Baby, you look and feel too good like this," he whined, wrapping his hands around your hips. "I'm so close."

But you were already there. You came as you leaned down and kissed him, those big hands sliding up, stroking your shoulders and neck as gently as you were used to while your ass tingled. You were making some wild sounds as you rode him until he filled you with his cum, then the two of you were panting in unison as your forehead came to rest against his.

You could feel him smiling, mustache brushing your lips as he said, "That was fun. Didn't know you would like it so much."

You moaned and said, "I'm as surprised as you are. And I'll put you last tomorrow. You're the grand finale. Obviously."

"Obviously," he agreed. "Just keep in mind, I'll be more than happy to spank you when you give me a hard time like that again." His lips found the side of your neck, his cock was still inside you as he murmured, "Got it?"

"Oh, loud and clear."

He chuckled, nipping along your skin as your butt throbbed a bit. You didn't want to move, but his stomach started loudly growling. Carefully, you started to sit up, brushing your fingers through his hair as you said, "It's been hours since you ate. Let's find something in the kitchen."

When you stood on wobbly legs, Bradley stayed lounging on the couch, guiding you and turning you so he could place one soft kiss on the spot on your butt where he had spanked you. Then he got to his feet as well, picked up the sweatshirt, and put it back on you.

He kissed the back of your neck and told you he never wanted to leave you again while you made him a grilled cheese sandwich. "Love you too much," he muttered, hand on your thigh as his leg brushed your tender rear end.

You thought about the weeks he was deployed without communication and how awful it was, but this right here was worth it. Making love in bed and rough sex on the couch. Learning what makes each other tick and sharing meals and enjoying how good it feels to have him hold you. All worth it.

When the sandwich was ready, you cut it into four triangles and took a small bite out of one before holding it up for him to eat it. "Thanks, Baby," he whispered, finishing it in one bite before you fed him the second one and then the third in similar fashion. He was finishing the last piece when he wrapped his arms around you and said, "Okay, Gorgeous, now I'm ready to help you get organized for Career Day before bed."

You laughed. "I just need to write a few things down and pick out an outfit."

"Oh. I wouldn't wear anything too tight," he suggested, smirking once more. "You're about to be sore tomorrow."

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

Okay, Maverick. Okay. Career Day is up next, and I need something nice to be there for Marty. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 25

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[etherealising]

a buried and a burning flame

part two out now!

pairing(s): richie jerimovich x fem!reader

summary: constantly arguing with your student’s father wasn’t on your bucket list for this school year, but how can you stop when he just makes it so easy to get under his skin? based on this request.

warning(s): implied age-gap | misogyny | angst | make out session | heavy petting | dry humping | borderline exhibitionism | minimal editing |

wc: 11k

A wide forced smile graced your lips as you looked at the very obviously out-of-place man sitting in the small classroom chair that was usually occupied by the small bodies of your second graders. Your foot tapped impatiently as you waited for the line to connect, the last call went straight to voicemail and you were begging the universe for it not to happen this time as you felt the heat of the man's scowl sear into you.

“Hello, this is Tiffany Gattina speaking.”

You perked up as soon as you heard a greeting, “Ms. Gattina?” You listened as she repeated your name, relief flooding through you that you’d finally gotten ahold of the woman.

“Yes, hi it’s me.” You cringed at the immediate panic running through the woman’s voice. “No, no Eva’s perfectly fine, but there is an uh…Mr. Jerimovich here claiming to be her father.” You looked up, the man’s loud scoff sent a wave of irritation through you, the urge to roll your eyes growing the longer the two of you stared at each other.

Your attention was pulled back to the phone as you listened to the woman you were used to seeing during pickups explain their familial situation to you. “Thank you for clarifying, but seeing as he isn’t listed on her yellow card, legally I’m not allowed to let him take her off of school premises.”

The sound of Mr. Jerimovich releasing a disbelieving laugh caused you to grit your teeth, your body swiveling around so he was forced to glare at your back.

“Shit, okay I’ll be there as soon as I can.” You listened through the phone as Ms. Gattina shuffled around, her keys jangled as the line went dead before you’d even got the chance to say goodbye.

It was immature but you stood against the wall with the phone to your ear for a few minutes more, quiet hums leaving your lips to give the illusion you were still speaking with someone so you wouldn’t have to be subjected to spending too much time alone with the irate older man. The cold tiny fingers patting your elbow made you jump, eyes finding Eva’s small figure looking up at you as she waited for you to hang up the phone. A feeling of guilt raced through you as your eyes darted to her childlike smile, while you were here trying to avoid her father you were also avoiding Eva.

You felt ridiculous saying goodbye to a dial tone before moving to place the phone back on the receiver mounted to the wall, “What can I do for you, Miss Eva?” You smiled as her nose scrunched up watching as she waved for you to bend down so she could whisper in your ear.

“Is it okay if I go to the reading corner?” You let out a quiet laugh at her question as you stood up nodding your head and watching as her face lit up in excitement.

“Just remember to put the books back where they go.” You watched as she skipped over to the decorated corner, a smile lining your lips at all the work you put into making your classroom as inviting and comfortable to your kids as ever, but the thought slowly dwindled as you remembered why exactly she was here after hours.

A small sigh escaped you at the loud noise leaving the intruder’s phone followed by his equally as loud commentary, the sounds bouncing off the once quiet walls of your classroom made you want to scream. You walked to your desk opening a drawer and shuffling through the files in hopes that you’d find an extra yellow card. The universe was on your side as you pulled a blank yellow card out, smoothing the crease out in one of the corners. If this man was gonna take up space in your classroom, the least he could do was fill the card out so the two of you didn’t have to repeat this interaction.

You had to steel your nerves before standing up, reaching to pull a pen out of the cup on your desk before approaching the boisterous man with all the false confidence you could muster. You stopped in front of him clearing your throat to gain his attention and forcing yourself not to snap as he leisurely looked up at you before his gaze returned to his phone, you had to stop your mouth from dropping open at the blatant disrespect before composing yourself as he locked his phone and placed it face down on the table.

“Mr. Jerimovich-,” Your words were interrupted by the screeching of the chair legs against the linoleum eyes watching as the man raised to his full height and impeded on your space.

“Listen, sweetheart,” you raised your brows at the nickname eyes locked on his. “I’m just here to get my little girl alright. And there was no need for you to go snitchin’ to her mom and shit.”

Your eyebrows rose further up your face, eyes darting to Eva to ensure she wasn’t privy to this dispute, tuning out her father as he kept running his mouth. Your head snapped back in his direction as you caught the last of his tirade, his words implied that you were unqualified to even be a teacher.

“Listen Mr. Jerimovich.” You paused, sending him your most condescending smile. “Let me paint you a little picture, let's say I don’t know, corner store Joe comes up to the school during dismissal tomorrow points at that sweet little girl over there, and spins some story about being her uncle. Have I lost you yet?”

There was venom in your words as you watched him roll his eyes before nodding for you to continue. “I would be a shit teacher to send that precious girl off with the first person who tried to claim her. So maybe you are her father. I'm not taking that away from you, but until Ms. Gattina walks through that door and confirms your identity, I am not letting Eva out of my sight. Understand me?”

His eyes hadn’t left yours through your whole spiel, darting between them as he let your words sink into him, you watched on as he reluctantly nodded a feeling of triumph raced through you.

“Great, now you’re gonna sit back down and you’re going to spend the rest of the time you're here feeling out this information card, okay?” You pressed the yellow card and pen into his chest, your eyes falling to the “Original Berf” logo before looking back at him once more.

The cold metal on his hand brushed against yours as he grabbed the materials from you, the gold wedding band on his finger drew your attention, the sight of it intriguing you. You watched him in curiosity as he sat down grumbling words under his breath you couldn’t even begin to understand, your staring was interrupted as he shot you an annoyed look, eyes looking you up and down trying to figure out why you were hovering.

Irritation radiated off of him as he waited for you to take your leave, the glare in his eyes loud and clear that your presence was no longer welcome. You sent him one last forced smile before turning on your heels to utilize however long you were stuck with him to grade and go over lesson plans.

You stopped in your tracks as something occurred to you, the noise of your shoes hit the linoleum as you made your way back to him, “One more thing Mr. Jerimovich, don’t ever cuss in my classroom again.” Your words were punctuated by a saccharine smile, his lips rolling in as he repressed himself from saying something he might regret.

Teaching children right from wrong would always fill you with a sense of purpose, but having to deal with their asshole parents made you question your career choice more times than you’d like to admit.

The last thing you wanted to spend the end of your Friday doing was trying to play mediator between two grown men who couldn’t accept the faults of their children. As soon as you sat them down and began to explain the situation, you became the bad guy, and when they weren’t jumping down your throat, they were having a screaming match with each other, you only hoped Mrs. Monroe across the hall was having an easier time occupying the two children she’d agreed to keep company for the time being.

A lull in the screaming match allowed you to speak up. “I understand the urge to defend your children and while I respect it, please let me explain the full incident.” Neither man said anything as they looked at you, both of them giving off the impression that they’d rather be anywhere else than here listening to you.

“During arts and crafts time there was a bit of misunderstanding between Noah and Eva. I’m not exactly sure how it started as I was helping another student bu-,” You paused as Mr. Vanderbilt let out a disbelieving laugh, his hand waving off your silence to get you to continue.

Your fingers dug into the fabric of your pants as you had to remind yourself that you couldn’t just assault your student's parents, you cleared your throat before continuing. “Mr. Vanderbilt, your son threw a pair of scissors at another student. And while I’m sure you have more pressing matters to deal with, this is Noah’s third write-up this month.” You watched the agitation rise on his face, his mouth moving to form sentences before you spoke over him, “And regardless of his age, his actions fall under the category of assault, and as I’m sure you know this is a zero-tolerance campus.”

There wasn’t even a few seconds of silence between your words before the man spoke up. “I can assure you it was an accident and had you been paying attention to all of your students, I’m sure me and Mr. Jerimovich wouldn’t have to be here wasting our time.” You watched on in disbelief as his hands raised lazily to unbutton his suit jacket which probably cost more than your yearly salary.

Your mouth opened and closed a few times as you tried to gather your thoughts in the most professional way possible whatever you had to say not seeing the light of day. “This child Ava, was she injured? If not then I really don’t see why I’m here in the first place.”

“Her names Eva you fuckin’ jagoff.” Mr. Jerimovich’s loud voice rang through your ears, and you could see you were once again losing control of the situation.

The more boisterous of the two men turned in his chair, his chest puffed out as though he was preparing himself in case this turned into a physical dispute. Your eyes bounced between them both knowing that Mr. Vanderbilt would be on the phone with his lawyer faster than Mr. Jerimovich could even throw a punch.

“Excuse me!” Your voice raised a few octaves, the overly polite persona you put on fading the longer you sat with them. “While the safety scissors didn’t break skin, there is a bruise on Eva’s collarbone. And you’re here Mr. Vanderbilt because Noah is prone to these outbursts and it’s gotten out of hand now that my other students are at risk of being hurt just because he may be overstimulated. I would appreciate it if you and your wife took the time to find the root of his problems, I mean no disrespect Mr. Vanderbilt but oftentimes this behavior usually begins at home.”

The sneer on Mr. Vanderbilt’s face was the last thing you wanted to see at that moment, you’d had enough experience with privileged and pretentious parents to know your Friday was just going to continue getting worse.

“They just let anyone teach our children nowadays don’t they?” His condescending smile was enough warning on its own. “Noah’s a great kid and listen I don’t want to tell you how to do your job, but that’s just how boys are. I think the real issue at hand is the fact that my child’s education has been put in the hands of well…a child. Where did you say you received your degree from again?”

Indignation settled heavily in your chest as you watched a self-assured smirk paint his lips as he rose from his chair. “The way I see it, if you knew how to do your job none of this would’ve happened, I mean how hard is it to babysit a bunch of six-year-olds for a couple of hours?” You watched in silence as he stood to his full height, hands smoothing out his ridiculously expensive suit. “I’ll make sure Principal Pacheco hears about how unqualified you are to be in a classroom.”

The silence was loud as you watched him sashay out of your classroom door, eyes locked on his back the whole time mind racing with what you did in a past life to even deserve half the shit you were subjected to dealing with.

“What a fucking joke.” You jumped in your seat at the gruff voice part of you had forgotten he was there considering his silence, something that shocked you seeing how outspoken he already proved he was. “Asshole dad and asshole kid, am I right? What a fucking prick talkin’ to you like that, yo I don’t know how you put up with that shit.”

You blinked in rapid succession trying to follow his fast-paced words, your mind trying to figure out why he thought he could be so casual with you. You were snapped out of your stupor as he stood long legs leading him to the door, you pushed off the chair moving to meet him before he could step foot outside.

“Mr Jerimovich please wait,” he stopped his movements hand stalled on the door as he looked at you.

“Given the situation, I know it sounds a bit ridiculous, but Eva was also written up today.” You paused watching as his eyebrows furrowed.

“After the incident, while I was checking her for any wounds, she began to yell at Noah using…explicit language.” The man’s full body turned to you, his shoulders hunching over as one hand raised to swipe across his mouth, the sound of his incredulous laugh danced through your ears.

“Let me get this straight, some little punk ass kid assaults my little girl, your words. And you write her up because she says a few bad words.” You could understand where his irritation stemmed from, you debated just letting her off with a warning but then other students began repeating her words and the only way for you to help Eva understand the gravity of her actions was to give her consequences.

You began playing with the bracelet on your wrist unsure how much more verbal abuse you could take in one day. Your thoughts raced with the best way to go about this situation and somehow convince him to understand your duty as an educator.

“Between me and you, I don’t think Eva’s reaction was wrong, she’s allowed to feel whatever she needs to. But her response is where I had to draw the line, other students were repeating her words.” You hoped the look in your eyes could convey whose side you were on in this situation.

The man in front of you sucked his teeth as he shook his head, humorless laughter followed, “Is this the shit they teach at whatever fancy-ass little school you went to? She was hurt and probably angry, what the fuck did you expect from her. Listen, lady, I don’t know if you were raised to just roll over and take shit but that’s not how I’m raising my daughter.”

Whatever hold you had on your anger quickly slipped away as he continued speaking, “You don’t get to come into my classroom with your stupid little matching tracksuit and the smell of god-awful food wafting off of you and try to tell me about myself. And you also don’t get to insult my education and upbringing to make yourself feel better about the fact that the only impression you make in your daughter’s life is the string of curse words that constantly leave your mouth.”

He let out a real laugh this time, hands clapping the noise echoed around the mostly silent classroom, “So she can fucking speak up for herself, you’re just full of fuckin’ surprises! Why don’t you just teach my daughter like you’re paid to and leave the parenting to me, sweetheart.”

You weren’t sure when the two of you had gotten so close but you could feel his huffs of breath ghosting across your face, sure he could feel yours as well. It was a few moments of intense eye contact, neither of you wanting to be the first to end it, somehow doing so would be a sign of defeat.

“I would appreciate it from now on if your ex-wife or Eva’s stepfather was my only point of contact where she’s concerned.” Your words were punctuated by your eyes glancing at the gold band on his ring finger.

It was a low blow and although you didn’t particularly like the man in front of you, you knew that he didn’t deserve the blaze of your full anger. But you also didn’t deserve to be consistently disrespected for just trying to do your job.

You watched on a bit guiltily as his face dropped, his eyes darting between yours before settling into slits as he glared at you, his look of disgust making you feel like you needed to exfoliate the whole day away immediately upon returning home.

No more words were exchanged between the two of you. You watched as he turned back to the door to exit once again, his tall lanky body drifted across the hall collecting Eva. You stood in the entrance of your classroom lip tugged between your teeth as you watched them disappear down the hall. A guilty wave was sent to the small smiling child as she eagerly waved goodbye to you.

The classroom was all prepped and ready to go, the assortment of donuts were all lined up separated between vegan from non-vegan. Events like these always had a good turnout, part of you wishing these types of days were around when you were still in school.

You were nervous and while you wanted to believe it was because the school year was slowly coming to an end and you’d need to figure out how you were going to support yourself over summer break, you knew that some of the nerves had to do with being in the presence of a certain student's father.

Trying to occupy your racing mind, you double-checked that the coffee and hot cocoa were warm and ready to be served. You moved to the door of your classroom, eyes tracing over the ‘Donuts with Dad’ sign you’d spent all night making, chuckling at how much effort and creativity you’d put into something that would be gone in an hour or two.

You took your place in front of your classroom door, the time on your watch letting you know the main doors would be opening soon. Swarms of students followed by their father figures walked through the halls, your hand waving to greet the first few pairs to enter your classroom letting them know it was alright to help themselves.

The routine of greetings went on for a little while longer, you’d have to tamp down on the way your eyes constantly roved over the heads of other parents hoping to see the tall lanky figure that for some reason raced through your thoughts no matter how much he infuriated you. It had been a few weeks since the last spat the two of you shared and while he hadn’t stopped picking up or dropping off Eva, not that you actually expected him to. Neither of you had spoken a word to each other in the time between now and then. You weren’t sure what it was but as much as he annoyed the shit out of you, you found yourself missing the irritation he caused you, the way it felt almost fun to have someone push your buttons for the hell of it. It sounded insane the two of you had only met on two occasions and neither of them left a good taste in your mouth but you couldn’t help but want more interactions with him, it was finally getting to your head, spending every waking minute with children was finally pushing you over the edge so much so that you willingly wanted to argue with a parent of your student. Maybe it was time to take your friends up on that offer of a night out.

A parent calling out to you drew your attention, your eyes peeking into the classroom to see that it was pretty much full aside from the obvious missing duo.

The rest of your time was spent with each parent and student duo individually. Checking in to make sure they were all doing okay and answering any questions a parent may have had regarding their students' learning experience. You’d learned from Noah’s uncle who he’d chosen to bring that his parents weren’t as involved in his life as they should’ve been and that he was trying to talk them into getting him into behavioral therapy. You appreciated his honesty and you appreciated even more that he wasn’t quick to write off Noah’s behavior as him just being a boy but mostly you were surprised when Noah shyly handed you a letter of apology a similar one in his hand addressed to Eva.

After your rounds, you relegated yourself to your desk taking the time to answer emails and begin planning end-of-the-year activities, your eyes wandered to Eva’s empty cubby every so often concern sinking into you at her absence. There were about 30 minutes left before the adults would have to begin leaving, you were so engrossed in the pro and con list you made about working during a summer school session that you hadn’t realized the duo patiently standing in front of your desk.

The clearing of a throat jolted you eyes quickly flashing up, the surprise clear on your face. Your eyes darted between Eva and her father before your mind finally began working. “Eva! We were worried you wouldn’t be joining us today. There’s only about 20 minutes left but you're both welcome to enjoy some donuts and drinks.”

You pointed in the direction of the table where the refreshments were situated smiling at Eva as she eagerly bounced away. You were surprised to see her father still standing in front of your desk. The awkward air radiated heavily between the two of you, you could see his mouth opening and closing as though he had something to say but decided against it before turning to catch up with his daughter.

Focusing back on your previous task seemed almost impossible as your ears eagerly listened out for the heavy lilt of a Chicago accent, you didn’t want to seem too eager by approaching the duo so soon, but as the time on the clock continued to tick down you knew you’d have to get it over with.

Quickly standing you smoothed out your blouse before making your way to the table. They were situated at pulling up a chair of your own and trying to ignore the heated glare on the side of your head. “Good morning you two, are you enjoying yourselves?”

Eva’s wide smile punctuated by the faint whipped cream mustache helped to alleviate any lingering doubts that had settled within you. Reluctantly you turned to the only other adult seated at the table; the displeasure of you being seated next to him was evident across his face. You shuffled in your seat feeling uncomfortable under his penetrating gaze, “Is the coffee to your liking?”

It wasn’t much but you couldn’t sit and stew in the awkward tension forever, hoping that although you’d both made horrible first and second impressions of each other you could just let bygones be bygones. You drummed your fingers together as his stare stayed locked on you giving nothing away about his current thoughts.

“Ain’t nothin’ to write home about.” His shoulders shrugged in dismissal as he looked away from you, busying himself with the grade-appropriate decorations around your classroom.

Eva was none the wiser to the bad blood between you and her father as she continued munching on her donut, fingers making shapes out of the crumbs that now decorated her table. You twiddled your thumbs trying to figure out the best way to bring up your next topic of conversation.

You cleared your throat, gaining the older man’s attention once more, “Mr. Jerimovich, I’m not sure if you’ve heard but we have a field trip coming up,” there was no indication on his end that he was listening, just an unnerving blank stare trained on you. “Unfortunately one of our chaperones had to back out at the last minute, and I thought seeing as you haven’t joined us on a field trip this year you might be interested.”

His already too-big body hunched forward, his knee harshly knocking into yours under the table as he leaned into your space across the desk, his movements forced you back sitting ramrod straight in your chair. “Sorry sweetheart, I’m not too sure that’s a good idea and all ya know seeing as how you made it clear I’m a horrible influence on children. Wouldn’t want to corrupt anyone else’s kids.”

You bit your lip hard, the words you said to him all those weeks ago finally coming back to bite you in the ass. You had no one to blame but yourself and as easy as it would’ve been to go tit for tat with him in this moment, you were trying to be the bigger person and put this animosity between the two of you to bed.

A solid hand landing on your shoulder stopped whatever words you were struggling to string together. The unwanted weight caused you to look over your shoulder, surprised to see Noah and his uncle whose name you didn’t remember standing behind the three of you.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt but I wanted to make sure Noah apologized while I was still here.” You subtly shrugged hoping he’d get the hint and remove his hand and luckily for you, he did. The sound of a grunt met your ears as your eyes flashed back to the initial pair you were speaking with. Eva’s discomfort was palpable as she held on to her father’s arm, the young girl not too keen on the turn of events, if she was uncomfortable then Mr. Jerimovich was downright murderous in the way he sized the other man up, an unnecessary brawl sure to happen if you didn’t step in.

“Eva sweetie, Noah wrote you a letter to apologize for his actions. If you're interested in accepting it that’s great, but I won’t force you to if you don’t want to.” She nodded shyly at your words as she looked at you, her eyes moving up to look at her father as they spoke to each other in a few glances only they understood.

You wished Noah’s uncle would’ve let you handle the situation how you saw fit instead of bombarding the poor girl, probably making her feel as though she had to accept the letter because she was pressured by his presence. Eva’s eyes found yours once more, a reassuring smile on your lips to assure her whatever decision she made was entirely fine. Her small hand reached out palm face up as she waited for Noah’s letter, the small boy hastily tossing it in her hand while mumbling a reluctant sorry under his breath.

The air was awkward as you waited for the intruders to leave a forced smile drawing to your lips as the man’s hand landed on your shoulder once again this time squeezing it a bit. You let out a sigh of relief when they returned to their previous seats, your thoughts not as jumbled as before as you turned to try and persuade Mr. Jerimovich of your offer.

“You know you got a lot of nerve talkin’ about the impression I make on my daughter, now you’re beggin’ me to save your ass and lettin’ that jagoff fondle you in front of kids. I mean if I’m a shit influence you’re shittier.” He finished his sentence by taking a bite of his donut, the crumbs catching in his facial hair caused your lip to curl up in disgust.

He was lucky Eva had run off to dispose of her trash and that the ruckus of parents getting ready to leave drowned out his words. “Need I remind you Mr. Jerimovich that you are in my classroom, a classroom full of children, and still you don’t have the self-control to control your cussing” You stood up dusting the imaginary crumbs off your pants, “Clean up your mess and make sure you have your life together the next time you step foot in my classroom.”

“Yeah whatever sweetheart I dunno what’s got you wound so tight, but you better take care of it before you end up bitter and alone.”

A sarcastic laugh escaped at the irony of his words, “Remind me again, which one of us still wears the wedding ring from their failed marriage?”

You weren’t sure what possessed you to do it, but arguing with him sent you on a power trip of some sort, your hand reached out to break a piece of his donut off before eating it, your own sad little war prize.

His glare was the most vicious it’d ever been as he watched your mouth work around the sweet treat, “I hope you fucking choke.”

“You too sweetheart.” Your smile was a borderline snarl as you moved past him, shoulder-checking him on your way to clean up any leftover messes.

Regret wasn’t something you experienced often but as you stood listening to the tour guide your shoulder bumping into the tall man next to you from time to time, his annoyed huffs of breaths meeting your ears, you realized that you were your own worst enemy.

When you arrived at the school this morning your excitement was at an all-time high. As much as you loved teaching your students it was nice to get out of the classroom and go on field trips, you also appreciated not having to teach for a day. So as you waited with the other second-grade teachers for all the students and chaperones to arrive you were sure nothing could ruin your day, but that all changed when you saw Eva walk up with her very smug-looking asshole of a father.

You hadn’t given it a second thought before you removed yourself from the conversation with Mrs. Monroe legs working overtime to meet up with the father-daughter duo before they could join the rest of the waiting group. Eva smiled brightly as you approached them excitement written across her face the small girl had talked about the trip all week.

“Good morning Ms. Eva, are you ready to explore the museum?” Her head nodded rapidly as she giggled, her hand swinging back and forth in the cage of her fathers, “Why don’t you go join the others while I have a word with your dad.” She nodded, squeezing her father’s hand before taking off across the parking lot to join the growing group of second graders.

Looking at the man standing in front of you, you could see your reflection in the stupid-looking sunglasses he wore, the both of you staring each other down. Your eyebrows furrowed as his hand raised in offering to you, your eyes darting from his face to the slip of paper he was holding out. From the color of it, you knew exactly what it was before grabbing it, the chaperone slip you sent home with Eva and asked to make sure her mother got it.

“You know Mr. Jerimovich, it takes a lot more than filling out a chaperone slip to chaperone a field trip.” You couldn’t help but rub it in his face, a part of you needing to antagonize the older man, to be the winner of every interaction the two of you shared.

His lips curled into a smug smile as he took a step closer to you invading your personal space. The fact that he hadn’t removed his glasses infuriated you, you didn’t enjoy the fact that you could see every emotion racing through your eyes in the reflection while all of his were guarded.

“That little lizard brain of yours sure doesn’t do a lot of thinking does it?” Calling you a lizard was so out of pocket it almost made you laugh, but you bit the inside of your cheek as he continued. “Mrs. Monroe was kind enough to help me through the logistics, bless her heart she also had some choice words about your chicken head ass but I don’t kiss and tell.”

Your arm ached as he rammed his shoulder into it while walking past you to join the group of waiting children and adults. You never hated a student's parent before but something about Mr. Jerimovich just made you tick, and if Eva wasn’t one of your students you surely would’ve ripped him a new one by now.

The conversation happening at the adult's table droned on, you elicited quiet hums in order not to be pulled into the conversation not too keen on making small talk with people you couldn’t care less about.

“Oh Richard, I’ve been meaning to ask about the restaurant. I went by the other day for one of those lovely beef sandwiches but the windows were all boarded up. I hope Michael’s death didn’t ruin the business.” Mrs. Monroe’s voice was laced with what some might call curiosity but you’d known the woman long enough to know she was just a nosey old woman trying to sink her teeth into whatever form of gossip she could.

You had no problem keeping your attention on the complimentary lunch provided by the museum, but then you realized who this mysterious Richard she was speaking to must’ve been and your eyes found the man’s face as he began speaking.

“Nah, just renovating trying to take the restaurant in a new direction.” He wiped his mouth on a napkin, eyes meeting yours before finding Mrs. Monroe to your right.

It was hard to appear disinterested, but it's not like he would willingly divulge any personal information to you. Not that you wanted him to but you couldn’t help but be a little bit curious about the man who raced through your mind every time you ran through hypothetical arguments with him.

“Such a shame that boys dead. A morbid way to go, isn’t it? Shooting yourself in the head.”

The liquid running down your throat came to a stop as you choked on the water. Your airways constricted because of the accidental slip-up, Mrs. Monroe’s blasé way of speaking had caught you completely off guard and now here you were fighting to get air in your lungs as her wrinkled hand patted you on the back.

Relief came soon after, your lungs gulping down the outside air like a fiend, your wide watery eyes locked on electric blue ones across the table. “I’m gonna check on the kids, would you mind helping Mr. Jerimovich?”

It was almost imperceptible but the look of appreciation that ghosted through his eyes was probably the only form of thanks you would get for helping him out of this situation. The two of you rose from your respective seats grabbing your trash before making your exit and stopping by the trash cans before beginning to make your rounds to check in on the students. The air was quiet between the two of you, and not in a comfortable way but more so suffocating.

“So you own a restaurant?” Maybe you shouldn’t have said anything but you weren’t sure how much awkward silence you could take.

You turned to look at him, the two of you stopping in a shaded area of the courtyard, the furrow of his brow enough to let you know he didn’t fancy making small talk with you. You let your eyes fall on all the children, watching as they conversed while eating, doing your best to keep an eye out for anything out of the ordinary.

“Nope,” his voice caught you by surprise, gaining your attention as he stared straight ahead. “I’m just some cog in the machine,” His eyes dropped to yours with little to no emotion scattered through them as he looked at you.

A tight smile lined your lips unsure of whether you should keep the conversation going or let it lapse back into silence. “I uh, I’m sorry to hear about your friend, he must've been struggling.”

His loud scoff proved that you’d chosen the wrong topic to fall back on, his body turning to you hostility lined his shoulders as he stood straight up. “You don’t know shit about Mikey.” The snarl decorating his lips was vicious, his eyes darted around your face daring you to speak again.

“I didn’t mean any disrespect it's just-,”

“Just what? Need more leverage to throw in my face the next time you have a little fuckin’ tantrum.” His words were full of anger, eyes lit up in excitement as though he was just waiting for you to bite, to latch onto the bait he’d set out for you.

And you took it just as easily, “A bit full of yourself to think you take up any space in my mind.” You crossed your arms over your chest as the lie left your lips, it's not like he needed to know that though.

He smirked the rise and fall of his chest brushed against your forearms, “You’re a fuckin’ liar.” His voice dropped an octave as his eyes darted around your face before trapping you in his gaze, “You wanna know how I know?”

You didn’t, but that didn’t stop you from nodding your head anyway, anticipation rolling around in your gut as you awaited his words.

“Because I do,” you frowned trying to understand what the hell he was trying to say. “I think about you and that bratty ass mouth of yours.”

His words were like a scrambled puzzle in your mind as your brain worked overtime to try and understand the exact meaning behind his words. It would’ve been presumptuous to believe he meant them in the way your brain was screaming he did, but what else could it mean when a man told you he thought about you?

The sound of a child crying pulled you from your stupor, dissipating whatever tension had risen between you and the man in your personal space. You wanted to say something, needed to say something but it's like your brain had turned to mush, no thoughts made any sense, no sentence structures that could live up to the words he just told you.

So you left. Turned on your heels to find the student whose wails had only grown louder and hoped your brain would return to its default settings sometime soon. Although you knew you would ruminate on his words long after today.

The time on your dashboard told you it was five minutes past the time you agreed upon for the reservation and if you sat in your car any longer your date would consider you a no-show. You sighed grabbing your clutch and keys off of the passenger seat before slowly exiting the car, a part of you wanting to just drive home and forget this ever happened.

Initially, you hadn’t planned on accepting his offer of dinner, not usually one to mix your professional life with your social life, but upon realizing how long it had been since your last date you figured accepting the invite would be harmless.

Taking one last look in the reflection on your window you steeled your nerves and made your way to the entrance of the restaurant. One last deep breath rattled your lungs before you opened the door and let the delicious aroma of food attack your senses. Upon entering you were immediately greeted by who you assumed to be a host.

“Welcome to The Bear do you have a reservation?” You stared blankly at the man in front of you eyes occupied with tracing the few patches of ink that were visible on his skin, you could tell you were making him uncomfortable as he began fiddling with the cuffs of his jacket.

Your eyes found his once more an apologetic smile on your lips, “Yeah, sorry uh I think the reservations under Vanderbilt? I’m meeting someone.”

The man stood across from you nodding eyes falling to the reservation book on the podium, his finger tracing the name before looking up at you once more. “Right this way m’lady.” He did a mock bow motioning for you to follow behind him, his actions getting a quiet laugh out of you.

You followed him through the maze of tables eyeing the other patrons as you passed them before coming to a stop. A quiet thank you passed between you and the host as he gracefully pulled your chair out for you before letting you know they’d be back to take your order shortly. You watched as he walked off, not ready to be left alone on your first date in months.

“Was starting to think you might not show.” Beau’s words tore you from your thoughts as your eyes flashed to his, an apologetic smile lined your lips.

You tried not to fiddle with your hands, moving them from atop the table to settle in your lap, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”

He waved your words off as though you could’ve been an hour late and he wouldn’t have minded, “Have you been here before? It's fairly new but I think it used to be a sandwich place, the head chef’s some bigshot from New York.”

Quiet hums escaped you at his explanation, you would’ve never come to this restaurant of your own volition, the aesthetics were beautiful, and having only been here for a few minutes you already found it comforting. But your salary wasn’t designed to be spent on an establishment such as this.

“No, this is my first time.” The casual conversation was helping to steel any leftover nerves you had

“Well, I hope I can make it worth it.” He was charming, to say the least, you’d give him that, his words drawing a small smile out of you, maybe this would go better than you expected.

The two of you engaged in small talk a few minutes more discussing which entrees the both of you were thinking about getting before you were finally interrupted.

“Well aren’t the two of you just a handsome couple please forgive my forwardness but you complement each other exceptionally well.” The words were spoken from behind you, you had to stop yourself from laughing at how thick they were laying it on, Beau preened across from you like he’d got the best promotion of your life. “Are we ready to order?”

Beau gave a polite nod as his hand gestured towards you, “Ladies first.”

You smiled eyes checking the menu one last time before turning to give your order, your brain short-circuited at the figure standing over your table. Neither of you spoke, and both of your smiles slowly disappeared as realization set in at the same time.

“Mr. Jerimovich?” You hadn’t seen him since he chaperoned the field trip, usually bumping into Eva’s mom or stepfather during pick-ups and drop-offs.

“Sorry sweetheart, that's an off-the-menu item.” His voice had an underlying tone of humor in it as his eyes subtly traced across your face before taking in what he could see of you above the table.

You stared up at him taking in the crisp suit he was wearing, surprised that he owned something that wasn’t made predominantly of spandex and cotton. Amusement danced through your eyes and your lips ticked up in a small smile the longer you stared at each other. “Do you have any recommendations for what's on the menu then?”

The man stared down at you, eyes bouncing between yours as he rolled his lips in trying to hide the smile threatening to take over his face. “Well we’ve got rave reviews about our steak which I do have to agree with, but that makes me a bit biased.” He paused for a second making sure he hadn’t lost your attention. “But if your taste buds are longing for the sea, our amberjack might be what you're looking for.

You nodded, resting your head against the knuckles of your fist as you continued smiling up at him. “Sounds delicious, I’ll have the Bucatini.”

A laugh shot through him, the small shake of his head almost imperceptible as he gave you one last look before turning to the man across the table. Your own eyes found your date across from you, a surge of guilt raced through you as you realized you’d written off his presence. You listened as Beau ordered, the two men trading words regarding items on the menu before you were once again left alone with your date.

“You two seemed friendly, did you know him?” He was trying to play off at being nonchalant but the curiosity in his voice gave him away.

“Hardly, he’s a parent of one of my students.” You were surprised Beau hadn’t remembered him from the ‘Donuts With Dad’ event, but there was no way you were gonna bring up what happened between his nephew and Eva while you were off the clock. “So, tell me about yourself.”

And so he did throughout the whole meal, you were barely able to get a sentence out before he was back to making the conversation about him. You weren’t sure if he even realized he was doing it but you didn’t care all that much to call him out on it.

You’d zoned out after Beau once again began talking about his job in finance, listening just enough to know when you needed to appear interested. Your mind went back and forth on whether getting dessert is a good idea or not.

“Can I interest the lovely couple in our dessert menu?” It was like he read your mind, two dessert menus held in his hands as he looked between you and Beau, his stare seeming to linger on you longer than necessary.

Before you could even open your mouth to speak Beau’s voice spoke for you. “I think we’ll just take the checks, boss. Do me a favor and split it as evenly as you can.”

There was a moment of silence surrounding your table, you wished you could say you were surprised but that was far from the truth. While Beau initially seemed like a decent guy, the topics of conversation he always seemed to land on told you this was a signature move of his one of those “tests” to see if his dates were interested in him or the moneybags that came with his family name.

“You’re fine with that right, I mean I think it's only fair.” Beau’s words were aimed at you now eyebrows raised as if daring you to say no.

You rolled your eyes, fingers tracing around the wine glass you’d been babysitting for most of the night before you looked up at the older man a tight smile on your lips “We’ll take the check please.”

You watched in relief as his car exited the parking lot, a huge weight lifted off your chest at having been done with that date. He’d left with the promise of calling you the next day but you already knew you wouldn’t be answering that call.

Footsteps sounded from behind you, your lack of self-preservation skills had you spinning around before you’d thought better of it, upon seeing his face you leaned back onto the hood of your car arms crossing around your chest as you waited for him to stop in front of you. His hand stretched out in the distance between you before any words were spoken, your eyes fell to the wrapper in his hands, the streetlights bouncing off of it.

“You’re not trying to poison me are you?” His grip loosened around the square package as it passed from his hand to yours.

He shrugged hand falling back into his pocket, “Don’t think so highly of yourself princess, that would mean I gave a shit about you.”

A small chuckle left you as your eyes fell on the package in your hand, it took you a minute to figure out what it was before you realized it was a donut, a smile tugging at your lips as you thought about the last time the two of you had been together and donuts were involved.

The two of you stood in a comfortable silence for the first time since your initial meeting, neither of you knew what to say to the other seeing as this was your first ever interaction that hadn’t turned hostile.

“Don’t they have rules and shit about dating your students' parents?” His words were punctuated by the motion of him slipping a cigarette between his lips, his other hand using his lighter to light it. You watched as he took a few drags, not at all surprised to find out he was a smoker.

He took a few more puffs of the cigarette before holding it out to you in offering, your nose scrunched in disgust as you shook your head no before responding to the question he asked. “Technically he’s not a parent and the school year ends this week. So come Friday afternoon my students will no longer be my students.”

You looked at him, not breaking your stare as you opened the sweet treat, breaking off a piece and savoring the myriad of flavors as they settled on your tongue. The two of you fell back into that silence, the quiet chatter of Chicago’s nightlife filled in the absence your voices left.

“What the fuck did you see in that kid anyway?” You shrugged, breaking off another piece of the donut and eating it. “I mean who the fuck spends a whole date talking about how rich they are and then splits the bill? Motherfucker didn’t even leave a tip and you did.”

Amusement decorated your face as you watched him pace his tirade about your lackluster date borderline passionate. “Yo and don’t get me started on how fuckin’ boring that kid was. Like what the fuck would he even know what to do with a brat like you.”

Your eyebrows raised watching as he stomped out the cigarette, his body full-on facing you once more. You held the last piece of the donut out to him, eyes falling to his hand as it grazed yours, the glaring lack of a wedding band around his finger intriguing you.

He popped the bit into his mouth, lips wrapping around his forefinger and thumb as you spoke up. “You talk as if you know me.” Your eyes left his lips to hold his stare once more, “Tell me Mr. Jerimovich, what would you do with a brat like me?”

This was dangerous territory and you knew it but that didn’t stop you from wanting to dip your toes in and see how you’d come out the other side. You watched in anticipation as he looked at you, eyes heavy with every word running through his head that he wasn’t saying. His feet moved him forward, your knee brushed against his thigh as he slotted himself between your legs, your head tilting up to look at him from your seated position on the hood.

The air between the two of you was charged, both of you waiting for the other to bite first. You held his gaze determined to not be the first one to give in, his eyes left yours for a moment pools of blue dipping to the curve of your lips. You stilled as his hand reached out, the rough pad of his thumb gently rubbing across your bottom lip before tapping against it, his eyes daring you to open up even a little bit. Wherever he was concerned you would never back down from a challenge, and you didn’t, lips wrapping around the warm appendage as you sucked gently the taste of icing dancing across your tongue.

“I’d take care of this mouth of yours, wouldn’t want you getting in trouble with someone else.” It was like the world had gone silent, all you could hear was his husky voice and the loud pop your mouth made as he removed his thumb.

You could see that his pupils had blown wide, almost positive that yours looked the same, “What if I only want trouble with you?”

There was a split second of stillness before his hand shot out, the roughness of his palm wrapped around your neck with no intention of harming you, just a weight trapping you between him and the car. Without a second thought your hand reached out to wrap around his tie, a small pull on it was all you needed for him to get the message.

It was hot and heavy, all tongues and teeth the moment his lips found purchase on yours. All the months of pent-up frustration between the two of you were being poured into this kiss, your tongues locked in a battle as if whoever won was proof that they were the superior opponent. You took your chance to bite his bottom lip, the motion pulled a low grunt from his chest, his free hand moving to cup the small of your back as he scooted you even further down the hood, your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist practically sitting in his lap at this point.

Surprise shot through you as the pressure on your neck became much more than decorative, as his large palm squeezed, your mouth opened wider in a gasp as he took the chance to shove his tongue down your throat. The eroticism of it all had your legs tightening around him as you searched for any friction, coming up empty as you languidly sucked on his tongue.

His mouth ripped away from yours, lips peppered heated kisses along your jawline as you looked at the stars through your lust-addled gaze, “Your mouth tastes like shit.” You weren’t sure why you said it but it was like you needed to rile him up.

A hoarse laugh left him as his lips and tongue began to lavish kisses around your throat, hand moving to push the sleeve of your dress down as his lips found your shoulder. You were lost in the ecstasy of it all before a sharp pain shot through you.

“Do you ever shut the fuck up?” His question was followed by another bite in the same spot as your head rolled back enjoying the painful ache it brought.

“N-no,” your words were broken off in a wanton moan as his lips glided across the exposed skin of your chest before his teeth sank into the flesh on your other shoulder.

It’d been so long since anyone had touched you like this and your brain felt like it was going into overdrive. You weren’t sure if he knew exactly how to make your body sing or if you were just so touch starved the simplest of touches would get you going.

A gasp escaped you as you felt his calloused fingertips skating up the exposed flesh of your thigh, the position he had you in made your dress bunch up around your waist. His mouth was still decorating the skin of your neck and while you should’ve told him not to leave any marks you couldn’t bring yourself to care anymore, not when his fingers found the elastic of your panties that sat against your hip, and not when his big hand began massaging said hip.

You let out a quiet whine as his hand teased the band of your panties, the hand having skated further under your dress as he snapped the elastic against your skin. Your hand reached out to grip his bicep trying to ground yourself as his teasing made your head spin.

“P-please touch me Mr. Jerimovich.” You knew exactly what you were doing calling him that but in that moment you didn’t care, you just wanted him to stop teasing you.

His head shot up from your throat hand paused at your waist as he stared you down, his eyes were more black than blue now. The feeling of his blunt nails digging into your hip had you wincing, before you could even string together a sentence your mouth fell open on a high-pitched moan as his hips rammed into you the hardened length of his bulge began grinding into you both of his hands on either of your hips as he helped you rock yourself against him.

You could see the enjoyment in his eyes at watching you fuck yourself against him, each drag of his cock hit your clit deliciously the mixture of friction from your panties and the seam of his pants had your eyes welling up with tears as you bit your lip at the stimulation.

“You gonna fuckin’ cry?” You shook your head at his condescending question doing a horrible job of trying to remain unaffected. “You’re a real fuckin’ brat you know that? Arguin’ with me every chance you get, coming to my place of work with that fuckin’ loser.”

The raspiness of his voice was going to be your kryptonite and you needed him to shut the fuck up. Your hand untangled from his tie to reach for the back of his neck, pulling him into a kiss just to get some silence. This kiss was different, a bit slower, and somehow a bit more passionate than the last. His lips moved tenderly against yours, his hands that found a home on your hips doing the same the slowness of the kiss translating to the tempo as he bucked up into you.

Your brain was already too overstimulated to try and understand why your heart began to feel like it was beating out of your chest, to piece together why being held against his chest like this felt like something you could see yourself enjoying and getting used to. Your mouths moved in sync with the tameness of the kiss not matching the ferocity either of you usually bestowed upon each other. The slowness of his hips rocking into yours was the icing on the cake, two bodies yearning for each other, for more than this parking lot tryst.

The sound of a car door closing pulled you from the fantasy drifting through your head, your body arching as far away from him as it could even though your need to continue being touched told you otherwise. His hands quickly left your hips, his whole body caging you in as he looked around the parking lot to make sure no one could see you. The noise had come from across the street, the civilian entering their car none the wiser to the reckless behavior you were engaged in.

It hit you all at once as you looked up at him eyes wide and filled with tears that slowly began to shed. Your palms pressed into his chest shoving him away from you as you hurriedly scrambled to get off of the car, hands fumbling to pull your dress down jumping in place as the warmth of his hands began helping you.

“You good?”

“No!” You hadn’t meant to shout but your nerves pushed you over the edge, you shook your head as he raised his hands in defense. “I’m a teacher and I almost let you fuck me in public. What if someone saw? I could lose my job.”

The consequences of your actions were beginning to set in. You were too busy in your world of lust whatever logic you had seemed to slip away with every caress of his fingers, every press of his mouth. You weren’t a reckless person and maybe that’s what drew you into this situation: a desire to throw caution to the wind, the tears streamed down your face as you ran through every negative scenario racing through your head.

“Hey, c’mere,” you didn’t get a chance to argue before his hands were pulling you into his chest, one holding your head against him while you tried to calm down. “Shh, you’re gonna be okay. I promise no one saw, nothing's gonna happen.”

You scoffed, moving your head to look at him, not interested in any lies. “Mr. Jeri-,”

“Richie.” His hand on your neck began massaging soothing circles into your flesh, the light touch calmed you a bit, “Call me Richie.”

It felt too personal. From the way he held you in the dim parking lot trying to alleviate your worries, to the way he looked at you eyes full of an emotion you weren’t quite used to seeing as you stared at him.

“I…I should go.” You made no move to step out of his embrace, eyes locked on his as his hand gently squeezed the back of your neck.

You stepped out of his embrace, the chilly Chicago air sent a shiver down your spine at the loss of body heat. You watched in silence as he stripped out of his suit jacket, your eyes landing on the smear of your makeup against his once pristine white shirt, eyes falling a little lower to the wet patch you’d left on the front of his slacks, white-hot shame shooting through you. You didn’t say anything as he wrapped the jacket around your shoulders, nodding your head in thanks too embarrassed to apologize for the stains you’d left on his clothes.

Neither of you spoke or made any indication of moving, his hands falling back into his pants pockets as you tugged the jacket tighter around yourself.

“Richie? Where you at man were ready for that little debrief thing you like doing.” The voice made you jump trying to fold in on yourself while Richie stepped in front of you hiding you from view in case the person walked around the derelict fence hiding the two of you from the back door to the restaurant.

“Just uh give me a minute Marcus!” Your eyes stayed glued to his back, wishing more than anything for this whole night to end and pretend it never happened.

He stood still until the sound of the door slamming shut reached his ears before his body swiveled back around to face you. “You good to drive home?”

You nodded, sending him a tired smile as the two of you began walking to the driver’s side door. Digging through your clutch you found your keys unlocking the car, stepping out of the way as he opened the door for you guiding you to get in. You stopped with one foot in the car turning to shimmy out of his jacket before his hands landed on your shoulder stopping your movements.

“Don’t worry about it.” You unconsciously settled into him, his fingers working out the tension you held onto. Your breath hitched as his hands skated from your shoulder to your neck before finding purchase on your cheeks, the rough skin of his thumbs gently swiping the tear stains away.

You felt vulnerable under his gaze, not sure if you were comfortable with him looking at you without that glimmer of anger and frustration in his eyes. He leaned forward unexpectedly, chapped lips burning a tender kiss into the skin of your forehead, lips lingering for longer than necessary before he pulled back.

“Do me a favor and get home safe.” The side of his lips ticked up in a smile.

Before you could lose your resolve you leaned in, kissing the edge of his lips where the ghost of a smile began before stepping the rest of the way into your car and watching as he stepped out of the way to close your door. He watched you drive off a small wave of his hand sent in your direction.

You drove home in a daze, mind still back in that parking lot. You worried your bottom lip between your teeth as your car filled with the scent of nicotine mixed with pine trees the only culprit of the scent was the jacket neatly sat in your passenger seat. The choice of cologne was so odd it was surprising you hadn’t smelled it when you were trying to devour Richie in the parking lot, a smile raised to your lips before you started laughing at the chaotic night you had.

Your laughs died down as you promised yourself that it would never happen again, even though you could feel the growing urge to throw yourself into whatever that was headfirst. But logic was slowly coming back to you, giving you a myriad of reasons why it was a horrible idea and why it couldn’t happen again.

And now all you had to remember the moment was a jacket that smelled like nicotine mixed with some weird woodsy musk cologne and the yearning feeling left behind by his bruising kiss.

a/n: i hope you’re all doing well please enjoy! feel free to interact however you see fit! 🫶🏽

[mr-cha-n]

Crossing the Finish Line

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x fem!reader

Genres: fluff, angst, athletes AU

Warnings: Profanities, drinking, reader is a bit of an asshole, exercise

Word Count: 17.4k

Summary: Winning is the only thing that matters, except if you're raising money for a charity event with an infuriatingly good-looking swimmer.

The burn of your muscles and the sweat on your brow are a satisfying reminder of how far you've come.

Reaching for the water bottle at the base of the wall, you take a well-deserved gulp before turning to your coach, who’s approaching with a towel in hand, clapping proudly.

"If you can recreate that in Tokyo, you won’t have to worry about coming home empty-handed!" Sungjin grins, his pride almost matching your own as you bask in the achievement of a personal best—almost.

"I guess I'll just have to keep at it to make sure of that," You smile gingerly, leaning forward to grab the towel and dab the moisture from your face.

"Well, motivation’s never been your problem," he says, raising an eyebrow as if to protest, but instead, he simply gestures back to the climbing wall, hinting for you to continue.

You know Sungjin thinks you’re pushing yourself too hard, but as you square up to the lead course in front of you, feeling that familiar sense of belonging and purpose the wall brings, you’re certain even he has to admit the hard work is paying off.

With a steadying breath, your hands dip into the chalk bag at your waist. Just a little faster, a little stronger, and you’ll be up there competing with the greats of your sport. The clarity of your purpose washes over you; you know your place in the world, and you’re determined to reach it.

"Done already?" 

Iseul's voice pulls you out of your thoughts as you realize you've been staring at the chipped paint on your admittedly worse-for-wear front door.

The shiny black hands on the cockerel-shaped clock at the entrance to your apartment read 9:20 pm. Glancing between the clock, the half-filled pot of chilli simmering on the stove, and your roommate’s teasing look, you realize you’ve missed dinner.

"Honey, I'm home!" you sing-song, spreading your arms wide to envelop Iseul in an apologetic hug. She screeches and runs away, but her laughter lets you know that all is forgiven for your late arrival.

"Sorry for missing dinner, Sullie. I got caught up in that headspace again and completely forgot you were cooking tonight."

"Don’t be sorry, just be grateful I left you some—it should still be warm!" she hums, offering you a reassuring glance.

You feel her eyes on you as you hang your jacket up and begin ladling out the leftover chilli into your favourite bowl.

"What is it?" you ask, tentatively meeting her gaze.

"I just—" she pauses, her expression softening as she searches for the right words. "I’m worried about you. You spend all day at the training gym or the actual gym. I know you’ve got important milestones coming up, and I’ll be there cheering you on from the sidelines, but your whole life can’t revolve around competitions. You’re not going out, seeing friends, meeting new people—"

"I don’t need you setting me up on another blind date if that’s what you’re suggesting," you interject, raising an eyebrow as you take a bite of chilli. "And I have enough friends."

"When was the last time you saw anyone other than me or your coaching team?"

When was the last time you'd seen any of your other friends?

The corner of your mouth twitches in defensive annoyance, trying to come up with a reply that you both know won't be truthful.

"Okay, fine. You might have a point. How about I promise to see people after Tokyo? I’ll even make an appearance at one of your wretched salsa classes."

You’ve attended exactly one of Iseul’s salsa classes and vowed never to repeat the experience. Sixty minutes of humiliation in a class way above the beginner level you were promised, stumbling through the steps only to collide with your rather handsome dance partner and send both of you crashing to the floor. Needless to say, you’ve managed to avoid that class—and that man—ever since.

"You can’t just avoid people for a month, squid!" Iseul protests. "Maybe you could—"

"No," you warn, dread filling you as you anticipate her next suggestion.

"Come on, I think it would be fun! You could-"

"I don't want to!"

"And what if you didn't have a choice?"

That stops you in your tracks. Blinking slowly, you set down your fork and look blankly at your best friend.

"What ... does that mean?" You ask cautiously.

Iseul grimaces, swallowing hard before replying.

"Okay, don’t be mad." That’s never a good sign. "I might have sent the campaign info to Sungjin."

Your brain feels like it’s been doused in ice water as you process what she’s done.

"You mean to say, I decided three months ago that I definitely didn’t want to do the campaign, and you, despite this, still sent the info to my head coach, who will undoubtedly force me to do it for 'good publicity' and 'sponsorship opportunities'?" you scowl, shooting her your best attempt at a withering look.

"That may, perhaps, be correct." She confesses, giving you a look you’d only reserve for your mother after sneaking out without permission.

A long, loud sigh drags its way out of your body.

"Iseul ... really?"

"...yeah, really."

"God, I don't even remember what the campaign was about!" You complain, pushing the half-eaten bowl of chilli aside, your appetite gone with this new revelation.

"Oh! Here, I have the email up!" Iseul beams, clearly feeling far more helpful than you currently think she deserves to feel.

"Of course you do." You glare, moving to look at the computer screen beside her.

Dear Miss (Y/l/n),

As the excitement builds for the upcoming Olympic competition in Tokyo, we are organizing a special event that combines the spirit of athleticism with the power of giving back to the community.

We are thrilled to invite you to participate in our Road to the Rings relay event, scheduled to take place in the week commencing 5 July. This unique relay will bring together athletes like yourself to not only celebrate the Olympic spirit but also to raise awareness and funds for the KSPO.

As a respected athlete, your involvement would greatly enhance the impact of this event. Not only will this be an opportunity to showcase your support for a meaningful cause, but it will also allow you to connect with fellow athletes and fans in a memorable and inspiring way.

Your participation would include:

Joining a team of athletes in a two-day relay through Tokyo city

Promoting the event on your social media platforms

Engaging with fans during the event to share the importance of the cause we are supporting.

With your help, we can make this an unforgettable experience and a powerful force for good. We would be honoured to have you as part of this initiative.

Please let us know if you are available to join us by replying to this email or contacting Soma Kimiko at skimiko@roadtotherings.co.uk by 31 May.

Thank you for considering this opportunity to make a difference through sport.

Warm regards,

Hu Chunho

International Olympic Committee

"Thank god, the deadline for this passed ages ago." You sigh, relief washing over you.

The guilty look that remains stamped on Iseul's face does not inspire confidence in you.

"Well, about that—don’t quote me on this, but I think Sungjin might have contacted them, and they may have agreed to let you join anyway?"

"Shit." You swear, wracking your brain for a way out and coming up empty. "Let me call Sungjin; maybe I can convince him to change his mind."

Surrounded by athletes you’ve never met but who all clearly know each other, you scan the crowd for the one face that could save you from your awkward solitude. Soon enough, you manage to catch a glimpse of your teammate, Jeon Wonwoo, across the sea of people. As you begin to wade through the crowd toward him, you realize he’s not alone like you’d hoped but is at the centre of a large group of athletes, all laughing and taking photos outside the Olympic Village entrance.

You've all been allowed early access for the event, a privilege everyone else seems stoaked about, but has left you out of your depth and far from where you want to be.

Deciding that you can morph your embarrassment into a cool, solo mystique rather than face meeting all of Wonwoo’s friends, you pull out your headphones and start wandering around the entrance, feigning busyness.

Keeping one eye on the other athletes, and the other half-heartedly on the information board in front of you, you quickly realise that no one else cares about what you're doing and feel yourself relaxing into the music.

All this waiting has made you hungry, and you wonder if there will be food available in the village or if you’ll have to brave your rudimentary Japanese to find your own sustenance. Surely they'll give you access to the village resources - you'll need to use the gym and the climbing equipment at least -

A sharp tap on your shoulder interrupts your thoughts.

Swivelling around, you’re met face-to-face with a tall, muscular man whose lips are moving, but you can’t hear a word. Gaping at him in confusion, you’re about to tell him he’s not saying anything when he gestures to his ear, miming pulling something out of it—oh, right, your earphones.

You scramble to pull your left earbud from your ear.

"Sorry, I was just saying that they're letting us into the village now."

"Oh, uh thank you! And I thought the language barrier would be my biggest comprehension issue!" You exclaim with a smile too wide and a laugh too loud. The cringe instantly seems into your body as the man cocks one eyebrow at you, and it takes all of your will not to shrivel up under his gaze.

You force yourself to keep smiling, even as the heat of embarrassment creeps up your neck. Clearing your throat, you quickly try to recover. "I guess I'm just a little nervous," you admit with a small, sheepish grin, hoping to smooth over the awkwardness. "I've been waiting to be here for a long time, and now that I'm actually here, I'm not sure what to expect."

The man’s eyebrow slowly lowers, and you catch a glimmer of understanding in his eyes. He nods slightly, the tension easing just a bit. "It's natural to feel that way," he says, his tone softening. "The games can be... overwhelming at first."

Relieved that the moment has passed, you take a deep breath and offer a more genuine smile. "Thanks for letting me know, we should probably head off before they leave us behind."

"I'm not too worried about that," He lets out a little laugh. As you both start to walk, you finally take in the small crowd that has gathered outside the gates. Though you can’t make out what they’re shouting, the team flags and posters bearing the man’s face clue you in on the nature of the turnout.

Pressing your lips together, you nod your head in mock understanding. "I see, can't keep the fanclub waiting?"

His head snaps away from the crowd to meet your eyes, and for a split second, you worry you’ve said the wrong thing. But then you catch the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"They're more persistent than I expected," he says, his tone light but tinged with weariness. "But I suppose it comes with the territory."

Relieved that he didn't take offence, you relax slightly, feeling a bit more at ease. "Must be exhausting, though," you offer, your voice softer now. "All that attention."

He gives a small shrug, glancing back at the crowd with a resigned expression. "You get used to it," he says, but there's a hint of something in his voice. "But we should really get moving. Don't want to keep anyone waiting—fans or otherwise."

You nod, falling into step beside him as you both head towards the entryway. The buzz of the crowd fades into the background as you walk, the earlier awkwardness slowly dissolving into a comfortable silence.

Once inside the village, the man turns to you again, a curious look on his face. "So, first Olympics?"

You nod, a bit of excitement creeping back into your voice. "Yeah, it’s been a dream for as long as I can remember."

"Well, you’ve got a lot to look forward to," he says, offering a small smile. "It’s an experience like no other."

You smile back, feeling a bit of your nervousness melt away. "I’m sure it will be."

Weary from the day but still buzzing with anticipation, you finally make it to your assigned room. The sight of the cardboard bed brings a huff of amusement. You flop down onto it, savouring the comfort even if it’s temporary. You have the room to yourself for now, but it’s clear that another athlete will be joining you once the games officially begin. For the moment, though, you relish the peace and quiet.

You managed to grab some sashimi from a nearby restaurant earlier on, and with your hunger sated, you start to settle in, considering whether to crack open a book or simply drift off into an early night’s sleep.

A pounding knock on your door quickly dashes those plans.

"Hey! (Y/n)?" A familiarly deep voice calls out, and you drag yourself up to let your teammate into your room.

"Wonwoo, what a nice surprise." you greet him with a forced grin, his chuckle telling you he’s not fooled.

"Don’t tell me you were planning to spend your first night in Tokyo cooped up in here?" he teases, and you respond by chucking a pillow at him.

"Do you not get exhausted from travelling like a normal person?"

"The plane journey was like three hours, tops." He retorts, falling onto your absentee roommate's bed.

"You have a point." You concede. "And yet, a nice warm bath and a book call to me."

"God, you're so dull!" 

"What are you on about? You read more than anyone I know!"

"Yes, but I'm not reading now, am I? That should tell you something..."

You hate that his logic is making sense to you. Giving him a long, squinty-eyed stare, you eventually give in.

"So, what’s the plan? Not that I’m going, I’m just curious."

Perking up, Wonwoo lifts himself off the bed with a speed you usually only see on the climbing wall. The sly grin that spreads across his face makes you instantly wary.

"A few friends are gathering in one of the common rooms for some drinks and mingling. People might split off later to go clubbing or karaoke or something, but you could just come to the party part if you’re interested. It’s just down the corridor—you wouldn’t be able to sleep with the noise anyway."

You mull it over, remembering the promise you made to Iseul before you left.

"Fine, maybe I’ll make an appearance." The satisfied grin on Wonwoo’s face forces you to hold back an eye roll. Your expression softens, hesitating to confide your apprehensions. "Just… don’t ditch me, okay? I don’t really know anyone else here."

Wonwoo’s playful demeanour shifts to one of gentle understanding as he nods in agreement.

"It’ll be a good chance to meet some new people—they’re really nice." He notices your screwed-up look of unease. "And I’ll introduce you. Don’t worry, the room is like 300 square feet; you’re not gonna lose track of me."

"Alright, fine. Now get out—I have to get changed!" You playfully whack his arm with your remaining pillow, and his laughter echoes in your room as he leaves, making the decision feel a little less daunting.

Rummaging through the unemptied suitcase on your bedroom floor, you thank Iseul for the scrunched-up red dress at the bottom of the case. Throwing it on with your probably unnecessary black leather jacket and some knee-high black boots, you feel like you at least look like you belong at a party.

Lining your lips with a rouge that matches the dress, and blasting some hyper pop to get you pumped up, you take a deep breath, realizing that, despite your nerves, this could be a chance to really settle in, to find your place not just in the competition, but among the people who, like you, have worked so hard to be here.

The bass of the music drums into the back of your skull as you fix yourself a drink in the small common room kitchen. You'd beelined straight to the drinks, grateful to give yourself something to do and to get some liquid courage before you face up to the other athletes.

Taking a sip from your cup, you scan the room for the face of your friend. As promised, you make eye contact with Wonwoo on the other side of the room, who flags you over to come talk to his friends. Revving yourself up for socialising, you make sure to keep an easy smile plastered to your face as you head over to join him.

"Hey, guys, this is my fellow climber, (Y/n). This is (Y/n)'s first Olympics, so ease her in gently!"

A flurry of names and greetings follow, and you take in none of them.

"Between the nerves and the secretive partying, I feel like it's the first day of high school again." You joke, trying to break the ice.

"Ha, if only I was cool enough to be invited to parties my first year of high school!" A lanky man with frosted tips replies, chuckling into his drink.

"I feel like that explains a lot about you, Chunghee." A pretty woman with a knowing smile laughs. Looking towards you, she leans forward, half-whispering, half-speaking. "He's been making up for it ever since," She teases, earning a playful shove from Chungee, who rolls his eyes but grins nonetheless.

You laugh along with them, feeling the tension in your shoulders start to ease as the group’s friendly energy begins to draw you in. The music still pounds in the background, but it seems less overwhelming now.

Wonwoo nudges you lightly, a reassuring smile on his face. "You settling in okay?"

"Yeah, I think so," you nod, glancing around at the group. "It's just a bit surreal, you know? One minute, I'm in my usual training routine, and now I’m here, surrounded by all these amazing athletes. It’s a lot to take in."

"Tell me about it," the woman who teased Chunghee chimes in. "I still remember my first Olympics—it felt like stepping into another world. But don’t worry, by the time the opening ceremony rolls around, you’ll feel right at home."

"Thanks," you say, genuinely touched by the support. "I’m excited—nervous, but excited."

"Excited is good," Wonwoo says, clinking his drink against yours. "And hey, you've always got tonight to get embarrassingly wasted and earn your spot in the Olympic Village Hall of Fame!"

"Speaking of, I got in late for my first Olympics, so my first night ended up being the night of the opening ceremony. I got nervous sick in my room beforehand and used the twenty minutes I had to get absolutely hammered. Next thing I know, I'm tripping over my own feet holding the Olympic torch and trying not to set everything on fire. To this day, the other athletes still call me 'Torch Tango' after I somehow managed to spin around and do a full pirouette, nearly taking out the torchbearer behind me," A jovial woman standing to the right of Wonwoo chimes to a chorus of laughter. 

You find yourself laughing along with them, the image of her drunkenly dancing with the Olympic torch so absurd that you can't help but be amused. "That sounds both terrifying and hilarious," you say, shaking your head. "I can’t imagine how you pulled that off."

"Trust me, it wasn’t on purpose!" she replies, still giggling. "But it broke the ice for me. I figured if I could survive that level of embarrassment in front of the entire world, I could handle anything the games threw at me."

"You know, that’s actually kind of inspiring," Wonwoo chimes in, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Maybe (Y/n) here should start off with a bang like that, get all the nerves out of the way early."

You shoot him a mock glare, though you can’t help the smile tugging at your lips. "Let’s not tempt fate, okay? I’d rather not be remembered as 'the one who set the Olympic Village on fire.'"

The group chuckles, and Chunghee raises his glass in a mock toast. "To avoiding accidental arson and to surviving our first Olympics without becoming memes!"

"Cheers to that," you agree, clinking your drink against his. The mood in the room is light and warm, and the camaraderie in the group is palpable. You feel yourself relaxing even more as the conversation flows naturally from one topic to the next. Stories of past competitions, travel mishaps, and favourite training rituals are shared, and before long, you find yourself laughing along, no longer worried about making a good impression.

You catch Wonwoo’s eye across the group, and he gives you a small nod, as if to say, "See? I told you it’d be fine." And as you take another sip of your drink, you can’t help but smile to yourself.

Moving back to grab a second round of drinks, you overhear the conversation loudly playing out on the other side of the room.

"-definitely Haneul, she's an Olympic medalist in shooting. I'm not gonna get mauled by a tiger if she's protecting me!" A passionate voice calls out to a chorus of laughter.

You peer around to see a group of about eight to ten people occupying the common room sofas and floor in one big circle. Amongst the group, you spot the man from earlier, leaning back in his position on the couch with an easy laugh and a cup in one hand.

"No offence, Haneul, but if I'm trying to survive a deserted island, I think I'd have bigger priorities than shooting wild animals with a non-existent gun." Another man replies. "I know who I'd want."

"Oh yeah, who?" The original voice calls back, belonging to a confident-looking woman dressed in all black.

"Kim Mingyu, obviously. A world-renowned swimmer, self-made handyman, and absolute gym lad. Not only could he cook me meals, but he'd cuddle me around the fire to keep me warm. And if that didn't work, then his hoards of lovers would track him down and rescue us!"

Kim Mingyu... you recognise that name. The group are now all laughing and nodding at the man on the floor, and you quickly put together the pieces. The fan club, the name, and the admittedly handsome face - the man you'd spoken to earlier was the infamous breaststroke swimmer. You'd seen countless articles in the newspaper about his latest fling, being caught at a rowdy party, and, of course, the record-breaking swims. You hadn't made the connection at first - he'd been so down-to-earth during your brief conversation that it was hard to reconcile that with the image of the notorious athlete plastered across the tabloids.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been standing there, hovering on the edge of the group with your fresh drink in hand, when suddenly Mingyu catches your eye. His laughter subsides as he notices you, and without missing a beat, he flashes you a toothy grin.

"What about you, Mingyu? Who would you bring? You can't pick yourself!"

"You guys have got it all wrong - I'm not the best pick." He starts, putting his cup down in mock seriousness. "I'd bring someone who could gather food, get resources, and save me if I fell off a cliff. The obvious choice is (Y/n)," You feel your heartbeat skyrocket as your name leaves his mouth and the group of debaters swivel round to look at you. "She's literally a world champion in climbing. She could climb a tree for food, wood, or leaves to craft things, and she's the only person here I'd trust to be able to pull me up if I was swinging from her grip off of the edge of a cliff."

You didn't know that he knew who you were. Your heart patters at the realisation, and you feel a blush begin to creep up the side of your neck.

"Oh, I'd be a bad choice," You respond shakily. Mingyu gives you an inquisitive look to carry on.

"I'm deathly allergic to nuts, if the island had any I'd have to choose between insta-death or starvation - not a very good ally if I'm dead."

His gaze lingers, a playful curiosity flickering in his eyes, and it takes all your willpower not to squirm under the attention. You force a laugh, trying to shake off the growing tension. "So, I guess we’ll have to make sure there’s a nut-free island for me to survive on," you quip, attempting to keep the mood light.

Mingyu grins, leaning back against the couch with a nonchalant shrug. "Don’t worry, I’d make sure of it. Can't have my survival expert checking out early."

The group laughs, and the conversation shifts back to the hypothetical island debate.

"I'm sure you've had your ear chatted off about the games, but have you got any interesting plans for afterwards?" The woman in the black outfit, who happens to be sitting closest to you, calls out. 

Double-checking that she is speaking to you first, you perch down next to her.

"Nothing too serious - an unavoidable salsa class and more training probably. There was one sponsorship deal my team got sent with Samsung, but I don't think I'm gonna do it,"

"You're seriously considering turning it down?" Mingyu asks, and you hadn't even realised that he'd been listening to your conversation. "That's a huge opportunity."

"Sure, but I didn't come here for sponsorships. I just want to compete, to push myself. The whole media circus that comes with it ... I don't want it." 

You can feel the weight of his disbelief on you. 

Mingu leans forward, his expression more serious than you've seen before.

"You do realise that sponsorships are part of the game, right? They're what keep you here, you can't just ignore that."

You feel a flicker of frustration at his words. "I get that, but it's not why I'm here. Not everyone's looking for the celebrity lifestyle; sometimes it's okay to not have your whole life plastered over the daily newspaper."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

The icy look in his eyes is entirely different to the friendly aura you'd experienced earlier.

You hadn't meant for it to come out that way, but the words had slipped out before you could stop them. The tension in the room thickens instantly, and you feel a knot of regret tighten in your chest.

"It means - it doesn't mean anything. That's just not my priority," You reply, trying to appear calm despite the hard edge to your voice.

"Not everything in life is about winning a race, you know that right?" He retorts, and you feel yourself scoff.

How could he think that?

That's why you were all here, what brought you together - a mutual dedication to being the best. To deny it was naive.

"-hey, man, we're heading out now, you coming?" The deserted island man leans over Mingyu's shoulder, pulling his arm towards the crowd gathering at the exit of the common room. Mingyu gives you one last look, before nodding at his friend.

"Yeah, coming."

"Thank you everyone for being here! My name is Hu Chunho, and I am the coordinator of this event!"

You wince as the sound of the loudspeaker makes your head pang. You'd managed to get in a quick training session early this morning, and had not been surprised to see a host of other athletes in the gym already.

"As you all know, we're here to help raise money and awareness before the Olympic Games start. We've set up a fun two days for you guys - and hopefully a fun experience for all those following along at home. Throughout the city, we've set up checkpoints. Taking it in turns, you will be asked to travel to each consecutive checkpoint and complete a task with your teammate when you get there. The winning team will be crowned based on a mixture of factors, including points for each task, the most money raised, and the best viral moment! Remember, getting people engaged and donating is the aim of the game! Now, a list of the teams has been posted on the door over there - please get ready, fill up your bottles, and connect with your teammate and we will begin in 30."

You are faced with the true task of your trip, and the reason why you wanted to avoid it in the first place. Your brain skips in circles as you try to work out how to balance your dislike for social media with your need to win. The challenge ahead feels like it’s pulling you in two different directions—on one hand, the competitive spirit that has driven you this far pushes you to give your all, to win this event just like any other. On the other hand, the idea of chasing “viral moments” and being under the scrutiny of social media makes your stomach turn. You’re here to climb, to compete, not to entertain the masses with antics designed to go viral.

But there’s no backing out now. You’ve committed to this, and like it or not, it’s part of the game.

With a sigh, you weave through the crowd to where the team list is posted, each step a reminder of the tightrope you’re about to walk. As you scan the list for your name, your heart skips a beat when you find it—right next to Kim Mingyu’s.

Of course. You should’ve seen that coming. It’s like the universe has a sense of humour. Mingyu, the guy who’s practically a social media darling, always in the spotlight, the one who you'd argued with about embracing this side of sport last night. You can already imagine the smug grin on his face when he finds out.

You glance around, searching for him in the growing crowd of athletes, and spot him near the front, chatting animatedly with a group of other competitors. As if sensing your gaze, he turns, his eyes locking onto yours across the room. He flashes that familiar, easygoing smile and you wonder if that's meant for you or for the series of onlookers around. 

Your pulse quickens as Mingyu’s gaze lingers on you. For a moment, you consider slipping away, avoiding the inevitable confrontation. But that would be cowardly, and if there’s one thing you’ve prided yourself on throughout your career, it’s facing challenges head-on. So, you straighten your shoulders and start making your way toward him.

As you approach, the group he’s with gradually shifts their focus to you, and the hum of their conversation quiets. Mingyu’s smile broadens, clearly amused by your reluctant approach.

“Looks like we’re teammates,” he says casually, as if the tension from last night’s conversation had never happened.

You manage a nod, trying to suppress the irritation bubbling up inside you. “Yeah, seems like it.”

One of the other athletes, a sprinter you vaguely recognize, perks up. “You guys make a good team—power and endurance. Should be interesting to see how you handle the challenges.”

“Thanks,” you reply, keeping your tone polite. You turn back to Mingyu, who’s watching you with that same inscrutable expression. “So, what’s the plan?”

“Plan?” Mingyu echoes, tilting his head slightly. “I thought we were just winging it.”

His nonchalance grates on you. Of course, he’d suggest going with the flow. That’s probably how he handles everything—charming his way through life with a smile and a shrug. But you’re not wired that way. You need a strategy, a clear path to victory.

“I don’t know about you,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady, “but I’d like to win this thing. So, maybe we should come up with a plan.”

Mingyu studies you for a moment, his smile fading into something more thoughtful. “Alright,” he says finally. “What do you have in mind?”

You hadn’t expected him to concede so easily, and it takes you a moment to gather your thoughts. “Well, we know that completing the tasks is important, but so is raising money and creating those ‘viral moments.’ I think we should focus on playing to our strengths—use your popularity to get the attention and donations, and I’ll focus on the physical challenges.”

Mingyu nods slowly. “Makes sense. But we should also make sure we’re having fun with it. If we’re too focused on winning, people will notice, and it might turn them off from supporting us.”

You bite back the urge to argue, realizing that he has a point. This event isn’t just about competition; it’s about engaging with the audience, making them want to be part of your journey. And as much as you hate to admit it, Mingyu’s easygoing nature might actually help with that.

“Fine,” you agree, “but we still need to stay on top of the challenges. No slacking off.”

Mingyu grins again, the playful glint returning to his eyes. “Deal. Let’s show them what we’ve got.”

The tension between you eases slightly as you both start discussing potential strategies, and by the time Hu Chunho’s voice crackles over the loudspeaker again, you feel a bit more prepared for what’s ahead.

“Alright, athletes, it’s time to head to your first checkpoint! Good luck, and remember—have fun!”

You'd agreed that Mingu would take on the first challenge so that he could introduce your tasks to the audience, and god you are glad that he did. As you'd hopped into the car to get a lift over to Meiji Jingu, the shrine that was to be the first checkpoint, you saw Mingyu being handed a traditional bow and quiver full of arrows. You couldn’t help but stifle a laugh as the realization dawned on you: the first challenge was archery, something you had no experience with and Mingyu, as far as you knew, wasn’t exactly an expert in either. But, you had to admit, he looked the part—focused and serious, with the bow in his hands, and that ever-present confidence on his face.

As you lean back in the car, you are relieved that Mingyu is the one in the spotlight. You know how to navigate the climbing wall, how to plan your routes and push your body to its limits, but this? This is something entirely different.

On your journey, you watch the live stream coming from Mingyu's phone as he runs through the park to get to the shrine. He's happily chatting away to the audience with a level of casualness you've never experienced in the rare times you've been forced into the public spotlight. Watching him jogging along, bow and quiver in hand, hair tousled in the morning breeze, you wonder if he might go viral just for this image alone.

When you arrive at Meiji Jingu, the historic shrine surrounded by ancient trees, the atmosphere is electric. The shrine grounds are bustling with people—locals and tourists alike, all eager to see the Olympic athletes tackle this unique challenge. Cameras are everywhere, capturing every moment for the live stream, and you can acutely feel the eyes of thousands, maybe millions, watching from around the world.

After a short wait for the running athletes to arrive, you spot Mingyu and the other contestants entering the competition zone. At this moment, you can't help but admire the serene beauty of the shrine. The towering Torii gate, the carefully manicured gardens, and the ancient architecture give the place a sense of calm—at odds with the tension brewing in your stomach.

You spot Mingyu a little way off, adjusting his grip on the bow, chatting casually with one of the event organizers. Even from a distance, you can see the ease in his posture, the way he seems to be soaking in the energy of the crowd rather than shying away from it. As much as you hate to admit it, Mingyu seems in his element here.

"Hey, ready to show off those archery skills?" you call out, approaching him to take over the live stream duties for the team whilst he shoots. 

He turns to you, flashing that trademark smile into the camera. "Ready as I'll ever be. How hard can it be, right?"

You laugh, shaking your head. "I’m glad it’s you and not me up there. I don’t think I’d even hit the target."

"Well, let's hope I do, or we’re both going to be in trouble," Mingyu jokes, but there is a seriousness in his eyes that tells you he is more focused than he lets on.

An organizer approaches, signalling that it is time to begin. The challenge is simple: hit the target as close to the centre as possible. The closer the shot, the more money raised for charity, and the more points your team would earn.

Mingyu takes his position, and you can feel the collective anticipation of the crowd as they quiet down, all eyes on him. The camera drones hover above, ready to capture every moment.

The camera in your own hand is shaking slightly. You steady your hand and your nerves as you narrate what you are seeing to the phone. 

He draws the bowstring back, his movements surprisingly smooth for someone who, as far as you knew, has never held a bow before. You hold your breath, the tension in the air palpable as Mingyu focuses on the target.

Then, with a steady exhale, he releases the arrow. It soars through the air, and you watch, heart pounding, as it flies towards the target.

It isn’t a bullseye, but it is close—closer than you’d expected. The crowd erupt in cheers and applause, and you can’t help but join in, a grin spreading across your face. Mingyu turns to you, raising his arms in a mock victory pose, and you laugh, shaking your head at his theatrics and making sure to get the moment on camera.

“Not bad, Kim. Not bad at all,” you call out, genuinely impressed.

He jogs over to you, still holding the bow, a satisfied smirk on his face. “Told you we’d figure this out. Now it’s your turn to show me what you’ve got.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Let’s just hope the next challenge is something that doesn’t involve me embarrassing myself in front of the entire world.”

As the car pulls away from Meiji Jingu, you glance at Mingyu, who is scrolling through the latest updates on his phone, probably checking the social media response to his archery skills.

The city of Tokyo rushes by outside the window, vibrant and alive, and you feel a renewed sense of determination. This isn’t just a challenge—it is an opportunity. To prove yourself, not just as an athlete, but as someone who could rise to the occasion, no matter what it demanded.

“Looks like people are pretty impressed with your archery skills,” you remark, breaking the silence between you.

Mingyu glances up, his smile widening. “Yeah, not bad for a first try, huh? They’re calling it beginner’s luck, but I’ll take it.”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “Hey, whatever works. Just don’t let it go to your head.”

“Too late,” he teases, flashing a playful grin. “So, any guesses on what the next challenge might be?”

You shrug, glancing out the window as the car slows down, weaving through a narrower street lined with small shops and eateries. “No idea. But I’m hoping it’s something more in my wheelhouse.”

The car eventually comes to a stop in front of a small, unassuming building. The sign above the entrance reads 'Nihonbashi Hamacho' in elegant calligraphy, and as you step out of the car, you notice the rich aroma of fresh food wafting through the air. A group of event organizers are already waiting, along with a few locals who have gathered, curious about what is happening.

Mingyu looks around, taking in the scene. “Smells good. Maybe the next challenge involves food?”

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued by the possibility. “Wouldn’t mind that at all. But how would that tie into a charity event?”

As if on cue, one of the organizers approaches, holding up a small card with instructions. “Welcome to the second checkpoint, Nihonbashi Hamacho,” she begins with a smile. “Your task here is to make traditional Japanese soba noodles. You will then serve them to local residents, who will donate based on how well they think you did. The team with the highest donations at this checkpoint will earn the most points.”

You exchange a glance with Mingyu, a mixture of surprise and amusement on both your faces. Cooking wasn’t exactly what you’d expected, but it is certainly a unique challenge.

“Well, this should be interesting,” Mingyu says, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. “Think you can pull it off?”

“I don’t know,” you reply. “But I’m sure it’ll be entertaining to watch me try.”

The organizers lead you into the building, which turns out to be a small, cozy kitchen set up specifically for the challenge. Everything is neatly arranged—flour, water, rolling pins, and a large wooden cutting board. A local chef stands by, ready to give instructions and oversee your efforts.

Mingyu immediately steps up to the station, eyeing the ingredients with a curious expression. “Alright, let’s see if you can make some magic happen.”

You join him, rolling up your sleeves as the chef begins to explain the process. It sounds simple enough—mix the dough, roll it out, cut it into thin, even strips—but as you get started, it becomes clear that it is much harder than it looks. The dough is tricky to work with, and your first few attempts at rolling it out are uneven and lumpy.

To your side, Mingyu is playing up your cooking for the audience of local spectators and online viewers, and you find yourself slowly joining in with his antics.

His positive attitude is annoyingly infectious, and soon you find yourself relaxing into the task, focusing more on enjoying the experience rather than worrying about perfection. The chef occasionally offers tips, guiding you with a patient smile, and gradually, your noodles start to look more like actual soba.

After what feels like an eternity of rolling, cutting, and re-rolling, you finally have a decent batch of noodles ready. The chef gives a nod of approval, and the organizers quickly set up a small serving station outside, where the locals are already gathering, eager to try the soba made by Olympic athletes.

Mingyu and you take turns serving the noodles, chatting with the locals and trying to convince them that your cooking is worth a generous donation. The atmosphere is light and playful, with plenty of jokes and laughter, and to your surprise, people seem genuinely impressed with your efforts.

“Hey, not bad,” one of the locals says after taking a bite. “I’d donate just for the entertainment, but the noodles are actually pretty good!”

Mingyu grins, giving you a playful nudge. “See? We might have a future as soba chefs if this whole sports thing doesn’t work out.”

You roll your eyes, but can’t help but smile. The challenge has been a lot more enjoyable than you’d expected, and for the first time, you feel like you are really getting into the spirit of the event—engaging with people, raising money for a good cause, and, most importantly, having fun.

As the last bowl is served and the donations tallied, you and Mingyu stand back, watching the locals disperse with a sense of accomplishment. The organizers hand over the final donation amount, and you can’t help but feel a surge of pride at the total.

The other teams slowly gather their own tallies, but this time you are less concerned with your place in the rankings, and more with chatting to the remnant locals left in the area.

The car hums quietly as it moves through the busy streets of Tokyo. After the high of the soba noodle challenge, you find yourself falling into a contemplative silence. Mingyu, sitting beside you, is flipping through the comments and reactions on his phone, his earlier enthusiasm noticeably dimmed.

You glance over at him, sensing the shift in his mood. “Everything okay?” you ask, trying to keep your tone casual.

Mingyu doesn’t look up, his eyes fixed on the screen. “Yeah, just…reading over the comments. Some of them are pretty harsh."

"Honestly, if it were up to me I'd just turn off the phone and focus on the tasks at hand." You grumble off-handedly, looking out at the Toyko skyline from the car.

"It's not really that simple if the whole point of being here is about raising awareness." He replies.

"Yeah but there's no point trying to pander to every person's perceptions of us. You're overthinking it." 

As the car slows down at a red light, you spot a small street market tucked away in a side alley, illuminated by the warm glow of lanterns. The stalls are bustling with activity, vendors calling out to passersby, and the vibrant colours of fresh produce and handmade goods catch your eye.

"Hey, put the phone down and look at that!" You exclaim, nudging Mingyu and pointing out the window.

Mingyu looks up from his phone, following your gaze to the lively scene outside. A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth as he takes in the sight. "That looks pretty cool," He admits, his tone lighter than it was just minutes ago.

"Let's take a pit stop and check it out - we can just say we got caught in traffic on the way," You suggest, excited by the atmosphere of the market. "It'll be a nice break."

Mingyu hesitates for a moment, but then nods, tucking his phone away into his pocket.

"Yeah, why not? Let's go."

You signal for the driver to pull over, promising to buy him a tasty snack to make up for the detour.

You step out into the cool evening air. The sound of the city is all around you, but the market feels like a little oasis of calm away from the noise of the competition and the city.

As you walk through the market, the sights, sounds, and smells envelop you. You can hear the sizzling of street food being cooked, the chatter of people bargaining with vendors, and the distant strumming of a guitar from a musician performing near the entrance. The aroma of grilled skewers and freshly baked bread makes your mouth water, and you realize how hungry you still are despite the soba noodles earlier.

Mingyu seems to relax as you both wander from stall to stall, occasionally stopping to admire the crafts or taste a sample offered by a vendor. You notice the tension ease from his shoulders, and the earlier clouds of doubt that hung over him seem to disappear.

At one stall, you find a small display of handcrafted jewellery. Delicate silver chains and intricately designed rings catch the light, and Mingyu picks up a simple bracelet, turning it over in his hands.

“This is nice,” he says, more to himself than to you. “My sister would love something like this.”

“You should get it for her,” you encourage, smiling softly up at him.

He nods, slipping the bracelet back into its place before handing over some cash to the vendor.

The sentimental thought behind the purchase, and Mingyu's affectionate and friendly atmosphere this whole trip seem entirely at odds with the image of the rakish, irresponsible party boy crafted of him in the headlines.

At the far end of the market, you come across a small food stall selling taiyaki. You order one each, Mingyu opting for custard while you go for red bean, and an extra one for your driver.

As you bite into the warm pastry, the sweetness spreads through your mouth, and you let out a contented sigh. Mingyu chuckles at your reaction, his earlier mood now completely gone.

“This was a good idea,” he admits, taking a bite of his own taiyaki. “I needed this.”

“Sometimes, it’s good to just disconnect and enjoy the moment,” you reply, leaning against a nearby railing as you savour the treat.

He looks at you with an expression you can't really distinguish but makes your stomach flip.

"I get why you and Wonwoo are friends - you're pretty similar." He finally says, and you find yourself looking up at him, intrigued to know what makes him say that.

"I mean, you might somehow be even more averse to human contact than him, but you both have a grounded connection to reality that I lack sometimes. I admire it." 

Such a simple statement - a judgement of you that anyone could have made - has you feeling a little light-headed. It's just a moment of tender insight, perhaps blown out of proportion due to your lack of going out over the last few months, but you can't help but feel bashfully shy at his admiration.

And yet, in the back of your mind, a small doubt nags at you, wondering if this was his move - to shower someone with attention and make them feel seen just to leave after it gets boring again.

"Ha, ah, thanks." You say, unable to keep the awkwardness from your voice. "That's ironic - because grounded, you know, climbing and all ..."

He lets out a puff of laughter, but it feels strained and you're choking on the dead air between you.

"Right, let's get back - they'll probably start worrying soon!" You declare, jaggedly cutting into the silence. Spinning on your heel, you don't wait to see if he's following you or not.

As the car approaches the next checkpoint, Odaiba Marine Park, you take a moment to gather your thoughts. The sun is starting to dip low in the sky, casting long shadows across the city, and the air has cooled considerably.

The organisers greet you at the entrance to the park, explaining the next challenge: a swimming relay. The task involved swimming out to a buoy, retrieving a flag, and racing back to shore. It sounds straightforward enough - although swimming isn't exactly your strong suit.

"Finally, something I can show off in!" Mingyu grins, thanking the organiser who helped you at the entrance. You bite back a remark about how the whole day has really been about who can show off the most.

"Guess I'll be relying on you to carry us through this one." You chuckle, trying to hide the nerves building in you at the thought of failing.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got us covered. But you’re swimming too, right? It’s a relay, so we both have to take a turn.” He shrugs casually, and you wish you had the confidence he has.

“Right,” you say, forcing a smile. “Guess I’ll just have to do my best.”

The idea of letting your team down, of being the weak link, gnaws at you.

You walk onto the beach, the water glittering in the light of the low, late afternoon sun. The crowd of spectators and media are even larger here. The atmosphere is electric, with the excitement of the event palpable in the air.

As you and Mingyu make your way to the starting point, you try to block out the noise, the cameras, the expectations. All you have to do is get through this challenge.

The event coordinator greets you both, handing Mingyu a sleek wetsuit and giving you a similar one. “You’ve got about ten minutes to suit up and get ready. We’ll start the relay as soon as everyone’s in position.”

Mingyu takes the wetsuit with a confident nod, but you hesitate. The tight suit is designed for efficiency, but you can’t help but feel self-conscious as you pull it on, the material clinging to your skin. When you are finally suited up, you catch a glimpse of yourself in one of the reflective surfaces nearby and have to resist the urge to cringe.

Together, you walk down to the water's edge, where the other teams are already gathering.

"Okay, game plan-" Mingyu gives you a small smile, and you know that he's only really talking strategy to calm you down. "You should take the first lap, and then I can make up for any time you lose - if I even need to!"

You nod, steeling your nerves. Competition is what you are good at, even if swimming is not. You're not going to let yourself down now.

As the starting signal blares, you take a deep breath and plunge into the water. The coolness of the ocean envelops you, and for a brief moment, it's all you can focus on - the sensation of the water against your skin, the rhythmic pull of your arms as you begin to swim. 

You feel yourself slipping into that familiar headspace. Brutal efficiency and speed at the cost of the pain in your limbs only further motivates you as you manage to tune out the excited shouts of the spectators and other teams.

Reaching the buoy, you see two of the other teams had already grabbed their flags and turned around. Although the disappointment of not being first flares up in you, you know that all you need to do is keep up with the rest of the group and Mingyu will do the rest of the work for you.

Pushing your aching limbs to their limits, you splash your way back to the shoreline. Your bones sigh with relief as your fingertips graze the sand banks and you hear a splash behind you as Mingyu leaps into the water.

Pulling yourself up onto the beach, spluttering out some wayward water, you watch Mingyu's confident strides through the water. Although you've seen his races before on TV, watching it in real life is like nothing else. The powerful strokes, effortlessly pushing him forward, makes it clear that he was born to be in the water.

By the second quarter of his lap, he's already managed to take the lead. You feel yourself cheering out despite the burning sensation in your lungs. Reaching out for the second flag, he easily lifts it up, beginning to spin to turn back for the second lap.

Your excitement turns to confusion as you watch him just ... stop.

"What are you doing!? Keep going! We're going to win!" You yell, confusion bubbling over into frustration.

But he doesn't hear you, or isn't listening.

Mingyu has turned back around, having spotted another team struggling to untangle their flag from the buoy. Swimming over to them, he steadies the base of the buoy so that the swimmer is able to pull the flag free from its constraints.

Your stomach drops as the team previously in second place breaks out in excited screams, their second-leg swimmer touching the sand bank.

Looking back out at the water incredulously, disappointment searing through you, you watch Mingyu glide back towards the shore, pulling ahead of another team for a third-place position.

"What was that!?" You lash out, as Mingyu pulls himself up onto the bank, panting heavily with droplets of water dripping from his hair and eyelashes. He's looking up at you with a confused, puppy-dog expression, and it's only annoying you more.

"We could have won! Why did you stop?"

Mingyu takes a moment to catch his breath, water dripping from his face as he processes your words. His confusion slowly morphs into something more serious, his brows knitting together as he stands up to face you.

“They needed help,” he says simply, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Your frustration only deepens, and you can feel the heat rising in your chest. “But we were winning, Mingyu! This is a competition—we’re here to win, not to play lifeguard!”

Mingyu’s expression hardens, the usual lightness in his eyes replaced by a quiet resolve. “I know it’s a competition, but it’s not just about winning. It’s about more than that—it’s about sportsmanship, about helping each other out. They were stuck, and I wasn’t going to just leave them there.”

You open your mouth to argue, but the words catch in your throat. Deep down, you know he’s right. You’ve always valued integrity in sports, the idea that the game is bigger than the outcome. But in the heat of the moment, all you could see was the finish line, and the thought of losing—especially when victory had been within reach—had blinded you to everything else.

You let out a long breath, trying to rein in your emotions. “But we were so close… You were in the lead, Mingyu. We could’ve taken first.”

He lets out an incredulous laugh. "You're unbelievable."

He shakes his head, walks up the beach, and leaves you to stew in your quiet shame.

"You got mad at him because he ... helped someone?" 

Iseul's obvious confusion is only making you feel worse.

"Yes, that's exactly what I did." You sigh into the phone. You'd called Iseul the moment you'd gotten back to your room, not even waiting to shower off the crusty salt water in your hair.

"Squid, that's a little bit insane." You can hear her grimacing on the other side of the line.

"I know," You admit, chewing on your bottom lip. "This whole day I've been so anal about winning, but the most enjoyable parts were all the times that I wasn't thinking about it! I liked making things for other people, getting to meet the fans, and exploring the Tokyo market. I don't know why I just blew up like that at the end, especially considering, as you said, he was just helping someone."

A long hum buzzes through the phone.

"I don't know squid," Iseul begins, carefully pacing her words. "I think you're so used to thinking about competitions and winning, and now you've been faced with a situation where that's not as important, and a person who has very different priorities to yourself, and you're struggling to deal with it."

"I know, you're right." You say, letting out a long breath. "It's just ... Mingyu's approach to all of this is so different from mine, and I guess a part of me is jealous that he's able to balance having fun and still doing well in competitions in a way that I've never been able to do."

Iseul's voice softens. "It's not a bad thing to want to win, but you have to remember that it's not the only thing that's important in life."

You nod, even though she can't see you. "I can't believe I let my frustration get the better of me. I didn't even give him credit for what he did. He was just being kind, and I ... I snapped at him."

"I don't think it's too late to make things right," Iseul says gently. "Talk to him. Apologise. It's okay to admit when you're wrong."

You fall silent for a moment, considering her words. The knot in your stomach tightens at the thought of facing Mingyu again, but you know that she's right. You can't just let this fester.

"Yeah," You finally say, your voice firmer. "I'll talk to him. I just hope he doesn't think I'm a complete asshole."

Iseul laughs softly. "Based on what you've said about him, Mingyu doesn't seem like the type to hold a grudge. He's experienced all of these pressures too, I'm sure he'll understand."

"Thanks, Sullie," You say, grateful for the calming presence of your friend.

"Anytime squid. Now go shower - you can't face up to the sexy man you heavily insulted smelling like sea rot!"

You chuckle, wishing her the best as you hang up the phone. For a moment, you linger at the edge of your bed, letting Iseul's words sink in. Dragging yourself in the shower, the warm water washes away the salt and the stress bubbling up in your mind. As the steam fills the bathroom, you replay the events in your mind, trying to figure out what you’ll say to Mingyu. Apologizing has never been easy for you, especially when it comes to admitting that your single-minded focus on winning might not always be the best approach.

Changing into something more comfortable - sort, worn jeans and a loose sweater - you make your way out to the rooftop garden in the Olympic Village. You aren't sure where you will find Mingyu, but you figure that if you were trying to decompress after a hard day this is where you'd go.

The garden was quiet, bathed in the soft glow of string lights that crisscrossed above the paths. The sky was a deep shade of indigo, dotted with the first stars of the night, and the distant hum of the city below felt like a comforting lullaby. You walked slowly along the path, taking in the scent of blooming flowers and the rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze.

As you rounded a corner, you spotted a familiar figure sitting on a bench, his face illuminated by the warm light. Mingyu was there, dressed in casual clothes, his hair still damp from his own shower. He was leaning back against the bench, staring up at the sky.

"Hey, mind if I sit?" You say, your voice tentative.

He looks up, emotions flashing across his eyes as he takes you in. The silence in the moment before he responds feels like it drags on for an eternity.

"Yeah, sure." He finally replies, a coldness to his tone that chills you more than the late evening air.

Carefully perching at the end of the bench, leaving enough room between you, you release a long breath, hoping for the courage to rectify the situation.

"I wanted to apologise for earlier. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. You were just trying to help, and I... I was so caught up in the idea of winning that I didn’t see what was really important."

Mingyu's gaze swings around to meet your own, and you can see that he's trying to beat down the anger he's feeling.

"Well, I appreciate that." He relies steelily. "But, you know, this whole obsession with winning isn't cool. You've had this problem with me all day about how I do things - that I'm more laid back, that I like to have fun, or be in the public spotlight. But, really, out of the two of us, it wasn't my actions that ruined the mood."

His words cut through the quiet of the rooftop garden, leaving you momentarily speechless. You knew this conversation wouldn't be easy, but hearing the hurt and frustration in Mingyu's voice brings the reality of the situation crashing down on you.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. "I know," you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "You're right. I let my obsession with winning cloud my judgment, and I took it out on you. That wasn’t fair, and I’m sorry."

Mingyu’s eyes narrow slightly as he studies you, his expression guarded. "It’s not just about what happened today," he says, his voice measured. "It’s like... you’ve been judging me from the start. Like I don’t take this seriously because I’m not as intense as you are. But that’s not who I am. I love competing, but I also believe in enjoying the experience, in being kind to the people around me. That doesn’t make me any less dedicated."

The knot in your chest tightens as you realize just how deeply you’ve misjudged him. You’ve been so wrapped up in your own perspective that you failed to see things from his side.

"I don't know how to express how sorry I am. I got caught up in the winning, but I also got caught up in all the headlines and tabloid articles. I acted like I knew you before I actually did - even though all of your actions today have shown me the complete opposite of how they portray you."

You take in a deep, steadying breath.

"The truth is, you've made me confront a part of myself I've been running from for a while now. Your effortless friendliness, your kindness to everyone, and the way you live your life outside of the competition - it was like watching the truth that I'd been avoiding. The truth that my way of doing things, the complete focus to the detriment of every other part of my life, wasn't actually necessary after all. And that revelation wasn't something I wanted to confront. You just happened to be the unlucky recipient of my turmoil - just by existing - and that was entirely unfair of me. I understand if you think I'm a major asshole or a loser, but if you can find it in you to forgive me I promise all of that baggage will no longer be put on you."

The air weighs heavy in the aftermath of your confession.

Mingyu looks at you for a long moment, before slowly nodding his head.

"I don't think your an asshole or a loser," He says sincerely, with a small chuckle in his voice that immediately reverberates through your body and eases out the tension. "I do think that you should stop reading tabloid newspapers though."

You let out a small huff of laughter, releasing a breath you didn't realise you'd been holding.

"Look, I know what I said was harsh," He begins, and you quickly shake your head in disagreement. "No, it was. The drive you have is something that reminds me a lot of myself. You might not believe it now, but I used to do the exact same thing as you - head completely filled with both my own and other people's expectations. I honestly don't think there's anyone here that's gonna be any different. And your drive, it makes you great at what you do - and you are really great at it - but there's so much more to you than being good at climbing."

"That's the lesson I learned for myself, and that I'm still having to learn. Being good at swimming is not my only personality trait, nor is it the only thing I like to do. I still struggle with what other people expect of me, and, like you showed me today, sometimes I do need to get out of that social media bubble. I really did appreciate that, by the way." He continues. 

You feel a wave of relief wash over you at both his forgiveness and his gratitude. Part of you feels even worse for judging this man who's been nothing but kind and introspective, but a larger part feels serene basking in the atmosphere of your late-night confessions.

"Can I ask you something?" You say softly, still apprehensive about disrupting the gentle calm that existed between you.

Mingyu nods, humming a 'yes' for you to continue. His posture is far more relaxed than when you first found him, and under the background lights of the cityscape you can't help but notice how beautiful he looks.

"All of the stuff about the partying and the girls - is any of it true? To be clear, it doesn't matter either way, I'd just like to get to know you better." You ask, feeling too shy to meet his eyes.

Mingyu chuckles, the sound warm and reassuring. "I mean, some of it's true I guess. I don't really think I've done enough to live up to the 'party boy' title though," he says, his tone light but honest. "Yeah, I've had my fun, gone to some parties, met some people, but it's not like I'm out every night getting into fights or causing trouble. The only reason it gets picked up on more than any other athlete is because I have a big following on social media so the stories sell more."

You nod, still too shy to meet his eyes, but you can sense the sincerity in his voice. It’s clear that he’s not trying to brush off the question or hide anything from you.

"I guess when you’re in the public eye, people tend to exaggerate things," he continues, his voice softening. "And, yeah, I’ve been with a few people, but it’s not like I’m out there chasing every girl I meet. Most of it is just rumours and assumptions. You know how it is—people like to talk."

You finally muster the courage to glance up at him, and the gentle look on his face tugs at your heartstrings. "I appreciate you being honest with me," you say quietly. "I didn’t mean to pry, I just… wanted to know the real you."

You watch his face contort from a peaceful smile to an excited expression, raised eyebrows and a large grin that makes you jittery.

"I have an idea - why don't we go out and do something fun? There's not gonna be many chances when the games actually begin, and you're gonna be too tired to want to. But Tokyo nightlife is unlike anything else, and that way we can get to know each other better outside of the pressures of the competition. What do you think?"

He's standing up, his hand outstretched for you to take and you can feel your heart pounding in your chest at the gesture.

This time, you don't need any time to decide. A broad smile taking over your face, you reach out to grab his hand and pull yourself up off of the bench with a small nod.

“Okay, let’s do it,” you say, feeling a rush of excitement that mirrors his own. There’s something thrilling about the spontaneity of the moment, the idea of exploring the city with him, away from the pressures of the competition and the watchful eyes of the media.

Mingyu’s grin widens as he gives your hand a gentle squeeze before letting go. “Awesome! I know just the place,” he says, his voice bubbling with enthusiasm. “It’s this little rooftop bar with an amazing view of the city. I think you’ll love it.”

As you walk together through the vibrant streets of Tokyo, the city’s energy pulses around you. Neon signs flicker in a kaleidoscope of colours, and the sounds of laughter and music fill the air. 

When you arrive at the rooftop bar, the view takes your breath away. The city sprawls out below you, a sea of lights stretching as far as the eye can see. It’s magical, and for a moment, you both stand there in silence, taking it all in.

Mingyu leads you to a cozy corner, where you settle into comfortable chairs with a perfect view of the skyline. The atmosphere is relaxed, the kind of place where you can talk for hours without feeling rushed. And that’s exactly what you do.

As the night wears on, the conversation flows easily. You talk about everything and nothing—your favourite places to travel, the challenges of balancing personal life with the demands of being an athlete, your dreams for the future. There’s a vulnerability in the way Mingyu opens up to you, sharing stories and thoughts he doesn’t often reveal. And you find yourself doing the same, feeling a sense of trust and connection that surprises you.

"You know, my flatmate, Iseul, she calls me squid?" You laugh, embarrassed by the childhood nickname.

"Woah, okay - was not expecting that! There must be a story there?" Mingyu replies, a light breeziness to his laughter.

"Nope, no explanation." You quip, shaking your head in mock indignation.

"Oh, come on!"

"Okay, yeah that was a lie." You chuckle. "In elementary school, on the first day of class, Iseul and I sat next to each other in science class. I'd just moved to the area - I think we were about eight or nine? - and I was so nervous to be in a new school and meet new people. Anyways, I hype myself up to talk to the cool looking girl with one of those summer holiday braids. As I go to open my mouth and speak, my pen explodes in my hand, covering my hands, my shirt, my face - everywhere. Iseul has called me squid ever since. I guess I'm just grateful she still decided to take a chance on me after that."

You peak your head downwards, your ears burning up as you let out an embarrassed laugh.

"Oh, wow - that's a pretty good nickname originator." Mingyu hums. "I never really had any proper nicknames in school, the best I've got is my sister calling me squishy when we were really young."

You release a relieved giggle, glad for the levity Mingyu is able to bring to each moment.

You push your hair back for your face in embarrassment, only to feel Mingyu leaning forward and pushing your hair behind your ear for you. With his face so close to your own and the feeling of his hands next to your face, you feel your smile drop and lips part in shock.

The moment only lasts a second, before his face has moved back again, his hands away from your hair.

Mingyu leans back, a thoughtful expression on his face as he watches the city lights flicker. “You know,” he says softly, “I’ve been to so many places, done so many things, but this… tonight… it feels different.”

You look at him, your heart swelling at his words. “I feel the same way,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’m glad we did this.”

He turns to you, his eyes warm and full of something you can’t quite name. “Me too.”

As the night stretches and the bar begins to empty, neither of you are in a hurry to leave.

"I heard you guys didn't make it to karaoke yesterday, would you wanna go now?" You question, feeling a levity you haven't felt in a long time.

Mingyu's eyes light up at your suggestion. The look is honestly adorable, and you can't help but feel even more endeared towards this overly enthusiastic man.

"Karaoke? Now? Absolutely!" He exclaims, the smile across his face contagious. 

"You really like karaoke, huh?" You tease, enjoying how animated he's become.

"Who doesn't?" He replies, standing up and offering you his hand once again. "Come on, we have to go before the night is over."

Together, you leave the now-empty bar behind, stepping out into the cool night air. The city is still alive, even at this late hour, and you can hear the faint sounds of heels clicking against the pavement as club-goers making their way home, takeaway boxes in hand.

As you walk towards the nearest karaoke spot, Mingyu is practically bouncing with anticipation. “Okay, but just to warn you,” he says with a playful grin, “I take karaoke very seriously. I’ve got a playlist and everything.”

You raise an eyebrow, amused. “A playlist? You’re really prepared.”

“Always,” he says with a wink. “But don’t worry, I’m up for anything. What’s your go-to karaoke song?”

You think for a moment, considering the question. “Probably something upbeat and fun. Maybe a classic pop song that everyone knows - some Shinee or BIG BANG?"

Mingyu nods approvingly. “Good choices. I’m all about the crowd-pleasers too. Nothing better than getting everyone singing along.”

By the time you reach the karaoke bar, you’re both buzzing with anticipation. The place is lively, with groups of people gathered around tables, cheering on their friends as they sing their hearts out. The atmosphere is warm and inviting, and you feel any lingering nerves melt away.

Mingyu arranges for a private room, and as you step inside, you’re greeted by colourful lights and a large screen displaying an endless list of songs. You can’t help but feel a little thrill of excitement for spending this time with Mingyu.

“Alright, let’s see what you’ve got,” Mingyu says, handing you the remote to choose the first song.

You scroll through the options, finally settling on a catchy, upbeat tune that you know will get the energy flowing. As the music starts, you grab the microphone and throw yourself into the performance, letting go of any self-consciousness. Mingyu watches with a grin, clapping along and cheering you on.

When your song ends, Mingyu takes his turn, picking a song with a dramatic flair. His voice is surprisingly good, and he belts out the lyrics with a passion that’s both impressive and hilarious. You can’t stop laughing, but you’re also genuinely impressed—he’s not kidding when he says he takes karaoke seriously.

The night continues like this, with the two of you trading songs, singing duets, and laughing until your sides hurt. There’s a carefree joy in the air, a sense of freedom that you haven’t felt in a long time. It’s as if, for these few hours, you’re both able to forget about the pressures of the competition and just enjoy the moment.

As the final song of the night plays, a slow, sentimental tune, you find yourselves standing side by side, sharing the microphone. The playful banter fades, replaced by a quiet connection as you sing together. It’s a sweet, unexpected moment of closeness, and when the song ends, you both linger in the silence that follows.

Mingyu turns to you, his expression softening. "Thanks for this, it was a great suggestion." He says quietly.

You smile up at him, feeling the warmth of his words. "It was perfect."

The tension between you floods the room in a manner that feels entirely different to the argument earlier. The way he's looking at you and the fluttering of your heart - you feel yourself being sucked into his aura and he's not doing anything to stop it from happening.

But then it's all too much and all too fast, and your brain processes the situation, and you're here, with the most handsome man you've ever seen, and you're just you. With the little experience of romance you've had, dampened by the very little time you've ever spent trying to pursue it, you feel yourself floundering, unsure of what to do or if you've entirely misread the situation.

What if this was just a friendly night out between teammates? Something to clear the air after a disagreement? What if you're feeling something that he's not?

Breaking the eye contact and pulling your head back around to the karaoke machine, you let out a little, awkward cough.

"We should probably be heading back now - don't want to oversleep and miss the second day of tasks, right?" You say, attempting to keep your voice light but utterly failing.

"Right, yeah, definitely." Mingyu replies, and you can't bear turning back to look at him to further gauge his reaction.

You wake up early on the second day of the campaign. You had tossed and turned all night, your mind racing with endless thoughts about last night. Deciding it is better to get up and do something productive to clear your head, you end up getting up and heading down to the training pool for a few laps of calming cardio.

Reaching the pool, you strip down to your swimsuit, wrapping a tool around your body and holding on to your bag which you intend to just dump next to the pool.

The sight you are greeted with when you reach the pool stops you in your tracks. Mingyu is already there, cutting through the water with powerful, graceful strokes. He's completely in his element, his focus entirely on the rhythm of his movements, oblivious to your presence. For a moment, you stand there, towel clutched around you, watching him. There's something almost mesmerising about the way he moves, each stroke smooth and deliberate, a perfect blend of strength and precision.

As you continue to watch, a swirl of emotions churns within you. The memories of the previous night, the almost-kiss, and the way you pulled away flood your mind. Part of you wants to rush forward, to apologise, to explain your hesitation, but another part holds you back, uncertain of how to approach him.

Caught frozen between your two instincts, it's Mingyu who first notices you standing there. He stops at the edge of the pool, his eyes locking onto yours, and for a second, neither of you says anything. The tension lingers in the air, something unsettled and unspoken.

“Morning,” Mingyu says, his voice gentle but carrying an undercurrent of something more—concern, maybe?

“Morning,” you reply, managing a small smile as you step closer, placing your bag down beside the pool. “Didn’t expect to see you here so early.”

"Gotta keep a consistent routine going, even if I'm going to spend the day doing more exhausting physical activities." He nods, pulling himself out of the pool and reaching for a towel.

You can't help but marvel at his swimmer's physique. Broad shoulders, a muscular back, and water trickling down his toned stomach. You catch yourself staring, and feel embarrassingly predatory with the way you just ogled him.

"Of course!" Your voice comes out squeaky. "Same here; I just wanted to get in some cardio before the campaign starts again."

"The pool's all yours, I just finished." He makes eye contact with you, offering a small smile as he reaches down and grabs his own bag from the floor.

"Thanks!" It's all you can muster up, and you have to push the bubble of disappointment down as he leaps back up the steps towards the exit. 

Perching at the side of the pool, you drop your bag and towel down and submerge yourself into the clarifyingly cold water, brushing aside everything but the feeling of your body moving through the water.

The energy around the Olympic Village is electric, buzzing with the anticipation of the day ahead. You can feel it in the air, in the quick, purposeful strides of athletes and the hurried conversations between event organizers.

As you finish your quick meal in the communal dining area, Hu Chunho’s voice crackles over the loudspeakers, calling all the participants to gather at the main event area. You can feel your heart rate pick up, your body already thrumming with the adrenaline that had become so familiar over the past day.

Rather than travelling by car, all the pairs are given a map of the city and offered clues to find specific landmarks or hidden spots around Tokyo.

Peering over at the map of the team next to you, you note that their clues are different to your own.

"I think we might all have different tasks," You say, looking from the map to Mingyu. He hums a note of understanding.

You look back down at your first clue.

'Where the world converges under neon lights, countless footsteps create a symphony of chaos and order. Stand where five paths meet and become part of Tokyo's heartbeat.'

"Oh, I know what this is!" Mingyu exclaims, a grin gracing his features. "It's Shibuya Crossing - the converging paths and neon lights. It has to be!"

You feel yourself smiling back at him, a spike of pride at his quick wit.

"You're right, I'm sure of it. Let's get going now!" You reply with excited glee.

With the destination clear in your minds, you and Mingyu waste no time. You quickly gather your things and set off toward the nearest subway station. The map in your hands outlines the general route, but Mingyu’s familiarity with the city helps you navigate through the bustling streets more efficiently.

The journey is a blur of fast-paced steps and fleeting glimpses of Tokyo’s vibrant city life. As you near Shibuya, the energy in the air intensifies. The streets grow more crowded, the buildings taller, and the lights brighter. When you finally arrive at Shibuya Crossing, the sight before you is both exhilarating and overwhelming.

The crossing is as chaotic and mesmerising as you imagined. Hundreds of people are waiting at the edges, ready to surge forward the moment the lights change. Neon signs tower above, flashing advertisements in a dazzling array of colours. It’s the epitome of organized chaos—a perfect reflection of Tokyo’s heartbeat.

“Here we are,” Mingyu says, his voice filled with awe as he takes in the scene. “It’s even more intense than I remember.”

You nod, feeling the adrenaline coursing through your veins. “Yeah, this is incredible. But what’s our next step? We’re here, but I’m sure we need to do something to complete the task.”

Mingyu pulls out the next clue, which had been tucked under the first. “‘Capture the moment where the world pauses and moves in perfect harmony. Your time in the spotlight will guide you to the next step.’”

You exchange a glance, both of you quickly understanding the challenge. “We need to take a photo or video of the crossing,” you suggest. “But it’s more than just capturing the chaos—we need to find that moment of perfect harmony.”

The two of you wait, watching the flow of people, searching for that precise moment when the crossing becomes a symphony of movement. After a few cycles of the lights changing, you finally see it—a brief pause when all the pedestrians are perfectly aligned in their crossings, creating a visual harmony that’s almost surreal.

“Now!” Mingyu says, raising his phone to capture the scene. You run into the centre of the crossing, spreading your arms up in the air and grinning as wide as you can before running back towards a chuckling Mingyu.

"Getting more into the spirit of things, huh?" He teases, and you feel your cheeks turning red.

"More points for a viral moment." You remind him playfully, feeling that familiar elevated pace as he smiles back at you.

You take a moment to appreciate the photo before Mingyu checks the time on his phone. “We should send this in to confirm we’ve completed the task. I think they’ll give us our next clue once we do.”

With a nod, you send off the photo, your heart still racing with the thrill of the moment.

Mingyu’s phone buzzes with a new notification. He checks it and grins, showing you the screen. “Looks like we’re moving on to the next location. Ready to keep going?”

You smile, the excitement in your chest bubbling over. “Absolutely. Let’s see where this adventure takes us next.”

'Where giants clash in a ring of honour, find the arena where tradition and strength reign supreme. Seek the sacred ground where wrestlers bow to ancient rituals and the thundering footsteps echo the spirit of Japan’s warriors.'

"Wait," you say, your eyes lighting up as you reread the clue. "Do we get to go to the sumo wrestling arena?"

Mingyu looks up from the clue, his own excitement building as he connects the dots. “Ryogoku Sumo Hall! That has to be it. The 'ring of honour' and 'giants clashing'—it’s definitely talking about sumo wrestling!”

With your destination clear, you both set off, navigating through the bustling streets of Tokyo. The journey takes you deeper into the heart of the city, where the modern skyscrapers slowly give way to more traditional structures. The closer you get to Ryogoku, the more the city's energy seems to shift.

The atmosphere around the hall is vibrant, with banners fluttering in the breeze and the faint sounds of drums echoing from within. It's as if the very air is charged with the spirit of the ancient sport.

As you and Mingyu step into the grand interior of Ryogoku Sumo Hall, you’re immediately struck by the rich history that permeates the space. The arena, with its towering roof and sacred dohyō at the centre, exudes a sense of reverence. You can almost hear the echoes of past matches and the cheers of crowds that have filled these seats over the years.

A guide approaches you with a warm smile, holding a scroll that seems fitting for the traditional setting. “Welcome to Ryogoku Sumo Hall,” she says. “Your task today is to immerse yourselves in the ancient traditions of sumo. You’ll be participating in a special challenge that combines both physical skill and cultural understanding.”

Mingyu and you exchange intrigued glances as the guide continues, “First, you’ll each don a mawashi, the traditional sumo belt. Then, you’ll enter the dohyō for a ceremonial shiko—this is the ritual leg-stomping exercise that all sumo wrestlers perform to purify the ring and demonstrate their strength.”

The guide gestures towards a small area where the costumes have been laid out for you. You both eagerly move to change, slipping into the mawashi with some assistance. It feels a bit awkward at first, but the sense of tradition and the significance of the garment quickly overtake any discomfort.

Once you’re ready, the guide leads you to the edge of the dohyō where a set of cameras and one of the event coordinators is waiting on the sidelines.

“The shiko involves raising your leg as high as you can and then stomping down forcefully,” the guide explains to you and the audience. “It symbolizes grounding yourself and dispelling any evil spirits. It’s as much about mental focus as it is physical strength.”

Mingyu steps into the ring first, his expression one of determined focus. He takes a deep breath, then lifts his leg high, bringing it down with a powerful stomp. The sound reverberates through the hall, and even from the sidelines, you can feel the intensity of the movement.

Encouraged by Mingyu’s performance, you follow suit. You step into the ring, feeling the cool clay beneath your feet. Taking a moment to centre yourself, you lift your leg, feeling the stretch in your muscles, and then bring it down with as much force as you can muster. The stomp resonates through the space, and for a moment, you feel totally connected to the earth of the theatre.

After completing the shiko, the guide smiles approvingly. “Well done,” she says. “For the final part of your task, you’ll need to demonstrate your understanding of the sumo rituals by performing a brief reenactment of the pre-match ceremonies. This includes the ritual clapping, salt-throwing, and bowing. It’s important to show respect and precision in each movement.”

You and Mingyu work together to recall the steps you’ve observed from past sumo matches. As you move through the rituals—clapping your hands sharply to summon the attention of the gods, throwing salt to purify the ring, and bowing to show respect to your opponent—you feel ever more connected to Mingyu. 

As you finish the task, the guide hands you a small, ceremonial fan, a symbol of your successful completion of the challenge. “You’ve shown great respect and enthusiasm for our traditions,” she says. “Your next clue will lead you to your following adventure in Tokyo. But for now, take a moment to appreciate the history you’ve become a part of.”

You and Mingyu exchange a look of mutual pride, before offering one last wave to the audience and going to take off the costume.

Exiting the sumo hall through the front entrance, you hear a ding on your phone and pull it out to reveal the third clue. 

'Where the flame of unity is rekindled, and the world’s eyes gather once more. Seek the grounds where champions are crowned, and the spirit of competition ignites the heart of Japan.'

"Back to the Olympic stadium?" Mingyu queries, looking over the clue.

"Sounds like it," You say, still uncertain. The clue's language is undeniably pointing back to the arena, but you're unsure of what could be waiting for you back at the beginning.

With the Tokyo National Stadium as your destination, the two of you pick up the pace, heading back through the city. The streets are familiar now, and the route to the stadium is etched into your memory from the many times you’ve travelled to and from the venue.

Stepping into the stadium, you spot two of the over teams already waiting in one corner of the track field, and make your way over to them.

"Guess we're all here for the final task?" Chunghee beams.

Taking a moment, you look around the stadium, completely soaking in the atmosphere. In a few weeks, you'll be back walking here with your whole team, representing your country. The sense of awe and pride has you feeling small under the arena lights.

Soon enough, the rest of the teams begin to filter into the stadium.

Feeling a presence behind you, you spin around expecting to see Mingyu. A smile breaks over your face as you see your other teammate walking up to you.

"Didn't catch you last night. Did you finally get that night in?" Wonwoo chuckles. His clothes are dirty, as if he's been rolling around in the mud somewhere.

"Not quite," You respond, a ghost of a smile flickering at your lips.

"Cryptic."

"Gotta keep you on your toes, haven't I?"

"Please, you're about as predictable as the sunrise." He teases, and you bat his arm in mock offence.

"You wouldn't be able to guess what I was doing if you tried." You retort.

"Oh, really? It wouldn't have something to do with the hunky swimmer that hasn't let you out of his sight since you got here?"

You feel your cheeks warm at Wonwoo's teasing, but quickly regain your composure, rolling your eyes in response. "Oh, please," you say, crossing your arms playfully. "You're just jealous of me and Mingyu's great teamwork."

Wonwoo smirks, clearly not buying your casual deflection. "Uh-huh, sure. But just so you know, you're not as subtle as you think." He winks, making you groan in mock frustration.

"Come on, Wonwoo, can we just focus on the tasks and not whatever wild theories you're cooking up in that head of yours?" You protest with a lightness to your tone.

He chuckles, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright, I'll back off. But if I were a betting man, I'd put money on you two spending last night together. He's practically glowing today."

You shake your head, unable to suppress a smile. "Maybe it's you who's got the crush."

"I have it on good authority that I'm not the one with the crush."

"What's that supposed to mean-"

"Hey, man, ready for the final challenge?" Before you can finish your sentence, Wonwoo turns around to greet Mingyu who's walked over to the pair of you, but not without shooting you a knowing look first.

Mingyu nods, glancing at you with a smile. "Absolutely. What have you two been talking about?"

"Just catching up," You reply quickly, giving Wonoo a look that says to keep his mouth shut.

Wonwoo laughs, clapping Mingyu on the shoulder. "Yeah, nothing important. Let’s just say I’m curious to see how this day pans out."

The event coordinators hand you over the final task - although the course at the middle of the arena has already given the game away.

The last challenge of the day was revealed to be an intense relay race. Each team member would have to compete a different leg of the course, each designed to play to different strengths. The course was a mix of speed, agility, and sheer endurance - sprints though tight obstacle courses, balance tests on narrow means, and a gruelling final leg that involve scaling a steep incline with a weighted sack of rice together.

"Hey, so, how do you wanna play this?" Mingyu calls out, huddling next to you as to conceal your planning from the other teams. The warmth from his body next to you makes your breath hitch in your throat.

"Uh, um, I'm amenable. Is there a particular part you'd rather do?" You cough, looking over the course with an analytical eye.

"Your balance is undoubtedly better than mine, so maybe you should do the beam and I'll do the sprints?" He replies and you nod in agreement.

"That makes sense to me!" You smile before taking your phone from your pocket to take a photo of the two of you. "Gotta keep up the socials, right?"

Mingyu shakes his head in surprise, a small laugh escaping him.

"You must have had a good teacher." 

You wink at him in response, and instantly feel the blush creeping back up your neck.

Looking around, you see the other teams still huddled together, getting ready and planning their strategies.

"So, uh, you and Wonwoo are close right?" Mingyu asks, the confident air to his tone noticeably lacking.

"Oh, yeah! We were in the same climbing club when we were younger - made it right to the top together." You smile, thinking back over the memories. "You know, one time, we both got stuck on this insanely tough route. Everyone else had given up, but not Wonwoo. He was determined to figure it out, and I obviously couldn't let him be the only one to finish, so we stayed there for hours. Eventually, we worked together to figure out the route, and we managed to do it. I swear, he more than anyone else taught me the value of perseverence, even if it was out of spite."

Mingyu listens intently, his expression softening as he watches the nostalgia play across your face. “Sounds like you’ve been through a lot together."

“Yeah, we have,” you reply, meeting his gaze. “He’s like a brother to me. We’ve always had each other’s backs, no matter what.”

Mingyu nods, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “That’s really cool. It’s good to have someone to bring you back to earth."

"-to the starting positions! The team that performs best across all challenges will be crowned the champions. But remember, this is also about raising awanress and funds, to keep the energy high and the spirits up!"

“Ready?” Mingyu’s voice breaks through the announcement, and you look up to see him watching you, a question in his eyes.

 “Yeah, I’m ready.”

The whistle blows, and the first leg of the relay begins. Mingyu takes off like a shot, his powerful strides eating up the ground as he navigates the winding course with ease. You watch him, your heart in your throat, feeling that familiar pressure being assauged by pride.

When it gets to your turn, you sprint up to the balance beam, forcing yourself to block out the noise of the crowd and focus solely on the task ahead. The beam is narrow, barely wider than your foot, and it wobbles slightly with every step you took. Every muscle in your body is tense, coiled like a spring, ready to react to the slightest imbalance, but you are in your element.

As you near the end of the beam, the crowd’s cheers grow louder, and you feel a surge of triumph as you leap off, landing smoothly on the other side. No time to celebrate, though—there is still the final climb ahead.

Running over to where Mingyu is waiting at the base of the incline, you begin to hoist the rice sacks over your shoulders, exchanging a determined nod before starting the final ascent. The incline is steep, and with the added weight of the sacks, every step becomes a test of endurance and strength. You focus on your breathing, matching your pace with Mingyu’s, both of you pushing each other to keep going despite the burning in your legs.

As you near the top, you catch sight of another team struggling halfway up the incline. One of their members has slipped, and their sack has tumbled down, spilling some of its contents. The other teammate is desperately trying to help, but it’s clear they’re exhausted and frustrated, their progress slow.

Mingyu notices too, glancing at you with a question in his eyes. “It's your call.” he says, his voice tight with effort.

You hesitate, the competitive part of you screaming to keep going, to push through and secure your victory. But another part of you, a bigger part, tugs at your conscience. You know what you have to do.

“Let’s help them,” you say, making the decision in a heartbeat.

Without waiting for a response, you turn and start making your way back down the incline. Mingyu follows without hesitation, both of you quickly reaching the struggling team. You offer a hand to the fallen teammate, helping them back to their feet, while Mingyu retrieves the spilled sack.

You can hear the live stream commentator yelling frenzily into the mic.

“Here, we’ve got this,” you say, as you and Mingyu steady their loads and start guiding them up the incline. The other team looks at you with a mix of surprise and gratitude, clearly touched by the gesture.

The climb is slower now, and you can feel the weight of the rice sacks digging into your shoulders, but there’s a different kind of satisfaction growing in your chest. When you finally reach the top, you help the other team place their sacks down before doing the same with yours. The other team thanks you breathlessly, clearly overwhelmed by your assistance.

As you all cross the finish line together, you know you’ve lost the race, but the sense of accomplishment in doing the right thing far outweighs the sting of defeat. The crowd’s cheers are louder than ever, and you can see that many of the spectators have noticed what you did.

Trying to regain your composure, you look over at Mingyu who is looking back at you with an affectionate smile.

"We didn't win." He pants, causing you to let out a sharp, breathless laugh.

Stepping closer, you place a steading hand on his arm. He looks up at you from his crouched over position, before moving to straighten up. Whether it is the adrenaline of the climb, or the confidence from your conversation with Wonwoo, you don't move away this time.

"I know," You smile, eyes sparkling. "I still feel like I've won something though."

"Oh, really?" He replies, moving closer still as that infamous grin breaks out across his face.

"Yeah." You nod, closing the gap between the two of you.

"You wanna make a real viral moment?" Mingyu asks, his tone light and jovial but his eyes conveying a sense of seriousness.

"You know what, I would actually quite like to." You respond, pushing onto your tiptoes to meet his lips with yours. Although you can hear the screams of the fans and other athletes alike behind you, the sound quickly fades into the background as the immense feeling of passion and joy overtakes you.

HIs hand cups your face, pulling you closer to him as his lips move against yours.

Finally breaking apart, he rests his head against yours, shallow breaths being exchanged between the two of you.

"You know that this is gonna make tabloid headlines tomorrow, right?"

[artfortytwo]

The IU-3 Billhook is, above all, a really bizarre mech. This was actually one of the first chassis designs produced by the PDR, a few months after they had already been facing down Purview teams, but it ain't your typical line mech. See, the Republic obviously can't outdo the Armory on quality or quantity in a straight up fight, so they got clever with these little bastards when a head on engagement was unavoidable. The first thing you'll notice is the giant tumorous growth of a shell hanging off the back. It's got a few minor hardpoints in it, along with a ton of reactive armor, enough to draw attention and make you assume it's a weakpoint that would cripple the machine if you took it out- but it's actually just an empty, detachable storage unit, only occasionally carrying some non-volatile supplies. The entire damn chassis is built like that, everything put in a weird place and disguised as something it isn't- even the joints have an annoyingly weird placement that makes maintenance a pain, but if that means offsetting the amount of bullets you have to pull out, I guess it's a win. Overall, it's substandard to even some outdated SP1 models, but with how cheap it is to build and how effective the gimmick can be, it sees a lot of use. That's just the thing, though, it's a gimmick. If the enemy knows what horseshit you're trying to pull, all you've done is bring a knife to a gun fight- so, usually, these things are the first units to see combat in any given conflict, and are outfitted for an alpha strike without regard to operating time or endurance. Single-shot weapons with fuck-off payloads, the works. On the high-mobility types that are built for repeated engagements, though, you've got a more standard loadout, and the storage unit gets filled to the brim with gyroscopes and reaction wheels alongside some crazy FCS that lets you get some damn good mileage out of the PD lasers in the antennae when you're up close.

i was having artblock trying to think of an idea and my friend said to me "hey, why don't you make a mech based on, i dunno, a snail?" and i told her "primrose pandora screamermod you are a fucking genius" and then spent 3 days making this thing along with the above flavor text for it. does this count as an oc, who knows but i'm posting it now because jegus dick it took a long ass time

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Across Every Universe

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.1k

Warnings: fluff

Request by anon: Hey Jordan, can i request something where Dean Winchester always have a crush on the reader but never said something to her until one day Sam and Dean are transported (based on the episode French Mistake) and Dean actor Jensen and is married to the reader of the universe and she pass the whole day giving Dean hug and kisses because for everyone is Jensen. When Dean and Sam came back to their universe him and the reader start dating? Fluff 

Summary: Sam and Dean are taken back to the same place where Dean is known as Jensen Ackles and Sam as Jared Padalecki. This little trip makes Dean realize his feelings for you.

Square Filled: "god, if only you knew what you did to me" (2023) for @spnaubingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

No matter the position you’re in, you’re not comfortable. It doesn’t matter if you lie down on your side, your back, or your stomach. Not to mention the heater isn’t working in the Bunker so it’s very cold. You have three blankets over you while wearing long sleeves and pajama pants. The broken heater doesn’t help your running cold either. You’re not sure where you caught it from but you’ve been trying to stay away from the brothers to not get them sick.

That doesn’t keep Dean away, though.

He’s a complete sweetheart to you since he always brings you soup, makes sure you’re comfortable, and spends time with you even if you tell him not to go near you. You don’t know what you’d do without Dean in your life.

Speaking of, he knocks on your door and enters wearing his usual hunting attire.

“Going on a hunt?” you ask and sit up slightly.

“Yeah. I wish I could stay here and take care of you.”

“Other people need you,” you smile. “I’ll be fine. I’m going to stay in bed, watch movies, and make some soup later. Did you fix the heater, yet?”

“I have someone coming in a few days. He’s also on a hunt.”

“Right, no non-hunters here,” you chuckle.

“I’ll call you later and check up on you, okay?”

“My hero.”

You cuddle with your blankets more and Dean leaves your room with a slight blush on his cheeks. Before he closes the door, he looks back at you in thought. God, if only you knew what you did to me.

He closes your door and meets his brother in the library. As soon as they are packed and ready to go, they start the long drive to the next state over. When Dean gets onto the highway, Sam turns to Dean with a knowing smile.

“So, did you tell her how you feel?”

“Stay out of it, Sammy,” Dean rolls his eyes.

“How long have you had a thing for her? Years? When are you going to tell her how you feel?”

“I mean it, Sam. Stay out of it. I can handle it on my own.”

“Apparently not, or else she’d be yours.”

Dean punches his brother not gently in the arm and Sam laughs. Dean kept the music high so he could avoid talking about his feelings for you. They get to the town that has its residents sacrificing themselves in the name of God. If anything, it warrants some kind of visit from the Winchesters.

The town looks like a normal town with normal people just trying to live their normal lives. They have no suspicions that something is happening but they only just arrived. They get there late at night so they will have to do their work tomorrow morning. Dean takes out his phone when his brother goes into the bathroom to shower and calls you.

“Hey, how are you feeling?”

“I’m doing alright but not any better.”

“Did you take your medicine?”

“Yes, I did.” He can hear the smile in your voice and that makes him smile. “And I ate my soup and drank water.”

“Don’t forget to tell her goodnight,” Sam says loudly from the bathroom.

Dean grabs a pillow and chucks it at his brother. “Go take a shower. You stink.”

“Goodnight, Dean,” you chuckle, having heard Sam.

“Night sweetheart.” He hangs up and turns to his brother with a scowl. “I hate you.”

Sam and Dean actually get more than four hours of sleep that night but when Dean wakes up, he doesn’t recognize his surroundings. The motel is gone, the shutty beds and blankets are gone, and the peeling wallpaper is gone. What replaces it is a nice trailer, a comfortable bed, a big aquarium, and other nice shit that Dean has never had.

“Sammy?” he calls out. He gets up and leaves the small trailer only to run into Sam. “What the hell is going on? Where are we?”

“I don’t know.” Sam looks around and spots a name on the side of the trailer that’s behind Dean. “Oh, no. Look.”

Dean turns and sees the name ‘Jensen Ackles’ on the side. He turns back around and sees ‘Jared Padalecki’ on the trailer opposite his.

“You’ve got to be kidding me? We’re back in actor land? What happened last time?”

“Gabriel sent us here to avoid Raphael and his minions. I have no idea how we ended up here.”

“I bet it has something to do with the fact that people were sacrificing themselves in the name of God. My guess is that angels are involved.”

“There you two are.” Sam and Dean turn to see Castiel--Misha--walking toward them. “They’re looking for you two.”

“Yeah, we’re coming.”

If Sam and Dean didn’t do a good job trying to act last time, then they certainly aren’t going to do a good job now. It’s funny in hindsight but it makes for a very long day of filming. After the twentieth time messing up, Dean is ready to get the hell out of there to figure out how to get back to his world.

He looks to the right and sees you at the snack bar. He immediately calls for a time-out and leaves the set.

“Time out?” the director frowns and looks at him. “Everyone, take ten!”

“Y/N?”

“Come here, you have to try this. Gen made it,” you grin at Dean. You take a scoopful of food and present it to him. He opens his mouth and accepts the food, pleasantly surprised by the taste. “Oh, you have something on your mouth.” You wipe his bottom lip with your thumb and lick the food off. Dean is so confused about your behavior but doesn’t have time to figure it out. Your phone rings and you check who is messaging you. “I gotta go. Gen is here.”

You lean up and kiss him quickly before walking off. Dean can’t move after that quick kiss. You did it so casually like you’ve done it a thousand times. He is forced to go back to acting but he can’t do a good job because all he’s thinking about is your lips on his.

They aren’t getting enough filming done so the director calls it for the rest of the day. Sam and Dean convene outside to make it look like they’re busy so no one else talks to them.

“She kissed me, dude.”

“What?”

“Y/N or the woman who she’s supposed to be. She kissed me like we’re together or something.”

“Look, I’m glad you’re going through the five stages of teenage excitement but can we focus here? How are we going to get out of here?”

Dean looks around and spots you entering his trailer.

“Eh, you’ll figure it out. I’ll be back.”

Dean leaves to his trailer and Sam rolls his eyes in annoyance.

“Dean!” he hisses but receives no answer.

Dean enters his counterpart’s trailer and sees you where the bed is. You’re grabbing some night clothes out of the drawers since you’re not going to be leaving the trailer for the rest of the night.

“Hey, I talked to Gen about the cabin and she got it all set up for us this weekend. I’m so excited to spend some time away from all this for two days.”

“Are we dating?” The comment makes you laugh. “What?”

“Are you okay?” He looks kind of nervous so you walk over to him and wrap your arms around his neck. “I don’t know what’s going on with you but I do know how to make you feel better.”

“How?” he whispers.

You run your hands down his chest and take his hands. You take him to the bed and toss your night clothes onto a nearby chair. You fall onto the bed while pulling him so he lands on top of you but he stops himself with his hands so he doesn’t completely crush you.

You pull him down to kiss you and that’s enough to bring Dean into the delusion that you’re Y/N and you’re his. Your lips are softer than what he thought and your body fits so perfectly against his. He slips his tongue into your mouth to get familiar with you. You tug on his hair to get some traction so he pulls away from your mouth and kisses down your neck.

Your neck has always been a sensitive spot for you and he really knows how to work you up. He licks up and down your neck before latching onto the side of it. You gasp, tilt your head back, and moan something that brings Dean back down to reality.

“Jensen.” You’re not his. You’re not you. You’re Jensen’s. You’re not supposed to be with him. He pulls away and pants above you. “What’s wrong?”

“Can we just lay here instead?”

“Yeah, of course. Let me get changed.”

You slip out from underneath him and grab the pajamas you set aside earlier. You strip down naked and Dean has a hard time not looking at you. He can’t help but think you’re a complete stranger. The pajamas you’re wearing are revealing but he feels better at looking at you with clothes on. You climb into bed with him and cuddle into his side, and he tucks a strand of your hair behind your head.

“How did I get so lucky?”

“I’m the lucky one.”

“Tell me the story of how we met.” You look at him in confusion. “I want to hear it from you.”

“Okay, I got tickets to a red carpet event that my ex-friend invited me to. We were going to see the movie My Bloody Valentine because we thought it was going to be the next big movie. The entire cast was there, including you, meeting fans and taking pictures with them. When we locked eyes, it was like something was pulling you to me.

“You came over to me, complimented me on my dress, signed my poster with your number on it which I still have, and the rest is history. I never got together with you because you were a big celebrity. You were genuine, kind, funny, charming, and very sexy. It was hard not to fall in love with you.”

Dean notices the big ring on your finger and puts the pieces together.

“We’re married?”

“Yes, we are,” you laugh. “Are you okay?”

“I’m just… really happy.”

You lean over and kiss him. The next morning, Dean leaves his trailer before you get up. He doesn’t want to wake you even though he wants to. He finds Sam outside his own trailer with a book in his hands.

“Hey,” Dean sighs.

“I might have found a way out of here, no thanks to you.”

“What if we didn’t leave?”

“Are you kidding me?”

“The love of my life is my wife here.”

“That’s not your wife, Dean. She’s Jensen’s wife. She thinks you’re him. Why would you take that away from him? You have a girl waiting for you at home, a girl with whom you’re too scared to do anything about. Don’t take her away from him because you want what they have.”

Dean knows he’s right. He can’t stay here. He’s using this world as an escape from his own.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Dean sighs. “What do you have?”

“I found this book in the prop section. This might be a TV show but it does have some useful books to make it look real. There’s a ritual we can do.”

And a ritual it is. Once they get the stuff needed and perform it, they are brought back to the town they arrived in a couple of days ago. In order to properly tackle this town, they’re going to need some angelic help. Maybe Castiel can meet them back at the Bunker and figure something out then.

The first thing Dean does when he gets home is go looking for you. You’re still stuck in bed watching your favorite movies on Disney+. You pause your movie when your bedroom door opens.

“Hey, how was the hunt?” Dean doesn’t say anything as he kicks off his shoes. He climbs into bed with you and pulls you close to him. “Dean?”

“I love you,” he blurts. “I should have told you this years ago but I can’t seem to think straight when I’m with you. You make everything better for me, and you’re a better hunter than I ever was. God, I love you so much.”

“I’d kiss you but I don’t want to get you sick,” you smile.

“I don’t care,” he whispers and kisses you.

This is where he belongs. Right next to you.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[solbaby7]

Wanting You, Wanting Me

pairing: azriel x reader

based off an anonymous request- got carried away but I tried to stay within the guidelines; this was actually a really cute concept

warnings: angst at first but it gets fluffy towards the end, swearing, jealousy, mutual pining, mentions of nightmares, sleep deprivation, probably some typos

summary: Silent yearning only remains silent for so long when you suspect your crush likes your best friend instead

--

Elaine was like flowers budding in the Spring; new and fresh, full of promise and beauty. She was kind and caring, compassionate and soft-spoken, dainty and slender—all the pretty things that males loved in women.

Or maybe it was just her.

Because you were fairly new and fresh too; just barely in your twenties and full on the idea of life and love and everything in between. Maybe you weren’t as kind, not as nice or welcoming; you didn’t always have the right words and in lou of sounding stupid or making a fool of yourself, you stayed quiet.

Watching; observing, learning the family around you as you navigated your place in it. Everyone already had their role; playing their parts as if they’d been trained their whole lives for it and even Feyre and her sisters had fallen into a steady rhythm after the Cauldron. But with all the new additions, couples pairing up and friendships pre-established a hundred years before you were even a thought—your place there seemed less clear.

Especially since Azriel had started paying such special attention to Elaine and her annoyingly beautiful garden and the plants that seemed to thrive tenfold at the mere sight of her.

You didn't mind at first; the three of you falling into a steady rhythm of hanging out together, taking walks and sharing stories but somewhere along the lines he stopped looking at you when he'd laugh. Envy builds for a woman too kind to deserve it and it makes you feel even worse--masking your distaste with soft smiles that you hoped looked as welcoming as hers.

You can’t even help the turn your thoughts take but no matter how much envy fills you; there’s not one con that presents itself when regarding her.

It becomes subconscious, the way you mimic her; fixing your posture, hands reaching to push back strands of hair and smoothen out the fabric that the soft curve of your stomach. Silently nitpicking parts of you that you’d never considered wrong before but that had to be when everything Elaine had got was so right.

He walks in like you’ve summoned him, steps silent and sure. “You’re up early.”

“Couldn’t sleep.” You mutter a beat too late, only realizing he was regarding you when you’d finally glanced up over the book in your hands.

You’re acutely aware of his every move, the radiating warmth of his body contrasted by the cool kiss of his shadows sifting through your hair when he leans over the back of the couch. The smell of his soap reaches your nose when he leans in, hazel eyes skimming over the pages you're reading and you thank the good Mother above that you’d gotten past the naughty scene three pages ago; where the good guy who pretends to be bad slides his fingers between the maidens thighs, urging her to be silent as he worked her over through her clothes while being surrounded by a whole camp full of males and a looming threat lingering somewhere in the trees. “Bad dreams again?”

You pray he doesn’t catch the slight uptick of your heart rate, the closeness forcing your body to react without permission and it takes great effort not to tear the delicate pages under the pressure of your fingers alone. “Something like that,” You grit out, reminded of the nightmares that assaulted your slumber; the sight of Elaine and Azriel—kissing. Enough to rip you awake and force you to empty all of your stomach contents; you’d just barely made it to the bathing chambers, hairs sticking to your cheeks and nightgown damp with sweat as you leaned into the toilet.

You still hadn’t been able to keep anything down; stomach too unsettled and brain spiraling enough to distract away any signs of hunger.

“She’s been getting them all week,” Elaine softly adds, fingers busy with her knitting needles and yarn; a new blanket for you to add to the giant collection neatly folded your closet. “—won’t drink the tea I made for it though.”

“Because the tea makes them worse and then I wake up from them with my body still paralyzed,” You’re quick to say, familiar with your best friends tactics in divulging important information to the shadowsinger to ensure you actually did something about it—that you took care of yourself. “I’ll happily keep just the bad dreams.”

Azriel's not even looking at you anymore though, already rounding the couch to sit beside Elaine, ball of yarn rolling between them and you can’t help but stare. “Tell me more about this tea?”

“I make it from the plants in the garden,” She points at the window behind them, pale green yarn still wrapped around her finger. “Camomile and ginseng and usually it helps but she just reacts to it differently.”

Azriel hums and you hate the way the words make you feel; like there was another thing setting you apart from the others and this perfect life that didn’t seem capable enough to hold room for all of your imperfections. You don’t wait to hear anymore, steps light and hands quick to stick your bookmark in place and collect your tea cup before you’re gone and down the hall; tears burning in your waterline.

Because, you were sure that if you had to sit there and watch them a second longer you were going to scream.

Scream at Elaine for being so sweet and gentle; so knowledgeable and helpful and certain that it was you that was the issue and not her stupid herbs grown in her stupid garden. You wanted to scream at Azriel until you were blue in the face, listing off every single thing you've ever done to show that the thing between you was way more than just friends. How he was everything and you know that maybe you weren't perfectly skinny like Elaine was but you'd always found great beauty in things that were different.

You can’t tell if you’re happy or not that no one comes to check on you the whole four hours it takes for you to relax; binging the entirety of a book until you were too focused on someone else's life to focus on your own and only once you'd finished the book in it's entirety were you forced to leave the room in search for the one that followed.

The library is empty when you enter, only a few lights still burned and you’re already murmuring soft words to yourself while you search around for what your looking for, fingers bumping over the slides of books; their engraved titles all unique and beautiful and probably interesting but still not quite right. It takes some time but you’re certain you’ve found it, a few rows higher than you can reach but it’s easy to drag over a chair for assistance. "Come on," You mutter, nose scrunching with strain as the tips of two fingers graze the burgundy spine. You’re prepared to jump and pray the chair doesn’t collapse beneath you when the book simply slides out and floats down to you, cool shadows twirling up the length of your arm as if to stabilize you as you step down. “I didn’t need help,” You grumble without looking at your savior, the weight of the book now in your palm and excitement swirls at the thought of more.

“You never do.”

You don’t mean to be so snappy but the sleep deprivation takes a toll and it was becoming harder to distinguish truth from dream; your brain always stuck on his mouth leaning in for Elaine’s and the anger that ensues is all consuming. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Azriel shrugs, sighing as if he knows how this conversation will end and in no way will he ever come out on top. “I don’t know—just don’t get why you wouldn’t have told me you haven’t been sleeping.”

“Because, Az, what would you have done? Help Elaine make me tea’s? No, thanks.”

Confusion spreads on handsome features, hazel eyes fierce even with his lids lowered. “What does Elaine have to do with any of this? Because she told me?”

The breath you let out is heavy, defeat settling in once you realize the hole you’d been digging yourself and it’s a struggle to heave yourself out and drag the chair back to its original spot but Azriel’s there in seconds. He’s quiet; waiting for an answer as he takes it from your hands. “No,” You concede, all fight leaving when it was a one-sided battle. “She doesn’t have anything to do with it. It’s fine—I’m just tired.”

“Then sleep,” He urges softly. “I’ll stay with you.”

“I can’t.”

You can’t even focus on the words of your page under his stare. You’ve read the first line six times over and you still haven’t fully processed it. The thought of him being nearby as you slept, the thought of his eyes on your body in nothing but a nightgown and your hair free from all its carefully done braids. “Can you tell me what you’ve been dreaming about?”

His brows raise when you suck in a sharp breath, cheeks flinching at the suggestion and you shut the book altogether. “I’d really rather not.”

“What’s so bad you can’t tell me about it?" Azriel's hand covers your own, voice so soft it hurt. "You tell me everything.”

Your heart thumps so hard in your chest you can hear it in your ears, your free fingers fumbling against the other under the table and you can't refrain from the nervous chuckle that pulls free. There's a second where you want to just tell him; to confess your feelings and how much you loved the way he was looking at you but fucking hated how you knew that look wouldn't stay if Elaine walked in. The reminder of her alone makes your body deflate, gaze going far off and Azriel's concern only grows when you stay quiet too long to be normal.

The cool touch of a shadow grazing your cheek pulls you out of it. "I suppose this just isn't worth telling."

It's not the answer he wanted, that much is clear by the frown that tugs on full lips, the wings that tuck in tighter and you want nothing more than to give him everything he'd wanted and more to get his face to stop looking at you like that but before you can say another word, another person enters. "Sorry to interrupt, I was just looking for you.

His eyes instantly go to her, hand pulling away from your own and attitude seeps out when you regard her. "Well, you found me."

Elaine's eyes bounce between you and Azriel as if she could feel the tension in the room that held so thick you could cut it with a knife. Her voice is hesitant when she begins, a steaming pot held in hands covered by thick oven mitts. "I made a new recipe for the tea," You don't even hear the carefully curated list of herbs she rattles off, informing their uses and how well they work together but you can't stop shaking; chest tightening at the way Azriel watches Elaine gracefully flit about the room and you can't stop thinking about how quickly he pulled away his hand. "It's really strong so you can't have too much but the madja said that it would help with the sleeping and the paralysis."

You couldn't of cared less, snatching the kettle from her grasp and in your anger you can’t even hear her gasp, can’t feel the burn of the boiling handle against your palm as you pour a mug so thick it nearly spills over the top. “Thanks, Elaine. Really, I hope it knocks me out for a week.” You don’t stay to take in the worry on Azriel's face or the hurt that laced your friends features. Your book is tight in your grasp and you’re halfway down the hallway when you feel your palm begin to throb.

Your bedroom door shuts with a slam, pure frustration pulsing through your whole being and you can feel it ebbing from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. A sigh pulls when you take an angry sip, it burns your tongue, slightly bitter but it was eased with a little sugar and a teaspoon of honey.

Guilt swells at the kind gesture and your misguided anger; Elaine had only been trying to help, making things to quell the dreams she didn’t even know were centered around her and man you loved but didn't love you back. It weighs on you as you change into your night clothes, smoothening ointment and wrapping thick gauze around your burn; there was no blistering but the angry red mark was sure to remain there for quite some time.

You try to distract yourself, silently sipping as you read your book.

It’s alarming how quickly you relax, the giant mug nearly empty when your book slips between your fingers and thuds to the floor, body slumping into the sitting chair and you don’t even have enough time to drag a blanket over yourself before your eyes flutter shut and sleep takes over.

And this time, you didn’t dream.

There was only peaceful silence and maybe an uncomfortable pressure in your chest that it came and went in waves; too grateful for the relief that settled in your bones to care. It was like you were sinking, body slowly falling into a sea of cushion and comfort and you’d have been willing to stay there forever.

Your brows furrow when a noise pierces through the silence; eyes squinting in the darkness to find the source but the harder you try to make it out, the darker the rooms gets. A hand rubs against your chest, the pressure coming back and this time it’s so hard it makes you cough, eyes clenching shut and it’s like that was the switch to wake you up.

Azriel is leaning over you, hands on your chest and cheeks red with exertion when you cough and cough, soul aching to return to the peace—that silence where there were no dreams. “Why’d you wake me up?”

“Wake you up?” His voice holds no more room for placating to your wants; hands shaking at his sides and it’s then you see the fear. “You didn’t have a pulse. I came to check on you and you were—“ Azriel clears his throat, voice cracking with his clothes disheveled and full lips firm in a straight line as he stood before you, crouching down to meet your eye level. “Tell me right now, what were you dreaming about that was so bad that you were willing to die to stop them.”

Your chest heaves as you take in air, a ringing begins in your ears and you back away; avoiding the words, the conversation—the sight of his mouth on hers. “I can’t.”

“You can and you will."

"Azriel—"

Az groans at your tone, turning his entire body away as if he physically couldn't bear hearing another aversion; another lame excuse as to why you couldn't tell him what was going on when you always did. "Do you not trust me? Is that it?"

“What?”

You'd never seen him so upset, eyes blazing and wings rustling in his frustration as he stood. "I'm just listing shit at this point because all I've done is try to be there for you—me and Elaine, and you just keep pushing us away."

"Oh, please," You snap back, gaining the strength to stand and the ache in your chest only gets worse and you begin to wonder just how long he was on top of you breathing air into your lungs and willing breath to stick with the push of his hands. "If Elaine's around, I might as well just walk right out of the room because that means you'll be otherwise occupied shoving your head up her ass."

"You sound ridiculous." He lets out a gruff laugh, arms crossed over his chest. "Are you jealous or something?"

"It's clear you have feelings for her. I get it—she's perfect and pretty and skinny and obviously you like that sort of thing but don't stand here and pretend you even notice I exist with her there." There's no taking back the words and you don't even care to look into the way his brows furrow at you, words punching at him a mile a minute as a dam breaks and days and weeks and months worth of emotions rage forward with no signs of stopping. "How couldn't I be jealous? When it’s so obvious that you love her and not me.” It feels pathetic to say out loud, hands crossing over yourself as you did your best to remain strong; to get through the feelings even though your skin was on fire and you couldn't stop fidgeting. "That's what my dreams have been about. Why I've been missing sleep and hiding things from you because every time I close my eyes all I can fucking see is you and her."

You don't even realize how much distance you'd been putting between you two, subconsciously searching for a way out when Azriel inevitability let you down easy. "You love me?" Words die on your tongue, feelings laid bare and vulnerabilities left out for his viewing pleasure; eyes like drops of gold boring into you as you gently nod. He sinks onto the edge of your bed, a breathless laugh emitting as scarring fingers traced over the soft fabric of your duvet. "The only reason I started talking to Elaine in the first place is because you and her had gotten so close and I wanted an excuse to be around you."

Your brows furrow, lips parting in confusion and the nerves begin to fade. "No."

Azriel's head nods once, settling into the fell of your room and the little trinkets you'd kept close on the nightstand; pictures neatly framed and resting on books you favored a little more than the others on the shelves. Hand sculpted vases made from blown glass that scattered rainbows across the room when the sun shone through the curtains to feed the bright flowers inside of them. "Yes, but you kept leaving and I thought it was because you weren't interested."

"But, I thought—"

"I think it's safe to say we both were off in our assumptions."

It feels like a dream and not the kind you'd been running away from but the one you'd been sinking and falling into earlier before Azriel had pulled you back. The one that felt like peace and comfort and something like hope begins to brew in your belly when you dare you look him in the eyes. "You like me?"

Azriel's features soften, the fear and worry from before a thing of the past when he stood and walked towards you, shadows kissing at your legs when warm knuckles grazed your cheek. "I love you," He corrects gently, his touch like home and its instinct the way you close the proximity. You can feel his heartbeat on your chest, the strong muscles of his arms itching to be traced and a smile forms at the blush that forms on the tops of his ears under your attention. "—and those smutty little books you've been reading."

His chest is hard when you jokingly smack it, cheeks going hot and eyes darting to the book laid forgotten on the floor. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

The lie doesn't deter him and neither does the little gasp that pulls free when he gently forces you to look up at him, hazel eyes trained on your mouth and the tongue that darts out to wet plush lips. "I'll pretend I believe that if you just shut up and let me kiss you."

Maybe reality was better than dreaming.

Because this time, when he leaned down with intent to press his mouth against another’s for a kiss—it was with you.

[ajortga]

my girl

pairing: jenna ortega x fem reader

summary: jenna is a bit too protective over you after you injure your leg, it's cute.

word count: 1.3k+

based off of request! (idk if i like this)

-

Jenna Ortega x F!reader where r broke her leg and jenna went very protective mode to r and would easily lose her temper whenever anyone tries getting close to r cause r is has a broken leg.. THANK YOUU

-

The light of the hospital casted a warm shade over you and Jenna as she carefully had a hand on your shoulder, making sure you didn’t fall. 

“Stupid nurses,” she mutters, looking at you with worry as you struggle to walk properly with crutches, your right leg limping by itself. "Hey, it's okay," she glances to your leg, rubbing it gently.

The girl looks at you, eyes soft, “Does it hurt?” You try your best to smile, nodding barely as your hands shake on the crutches, “I’ll get used to it, it’ll only be several weeks.”

Jenna’s hands, besides the one she just removed from your shoulder, are filled with bags and backpacks and some stuffed animal hanging out of it, making sure there is nothing disturbing you. 

“Oh baby, I’m sorry,” she says, rubbing your thigh as she guides you closer to the car, “They should’ve secured the stunt.”

“I’m sorry,” you instantly retaliate, “You’re holding all this heavy stuff, here let me try to help you. That backpack,” you point to the navy bag hung on her back, “I can carry i- No!” She shouts, immediately sitting you down to a bench.

“It’s okay baby, just sit here and I’ll be back okay?”

Before you can respond she’s waddling to your car.

It’s not long before she’s running to you, her sunglasses covering her pretty eyes. She leans down and lets you wrap your arms weakly around her shoulders. Jenna lifts you up, bridal style and manages to carry your two crutches with her.

-

Jenna’s protectiveness immediately shone through, you noticed it within the first couple of days.

Yelling at nurses to get you a wheelchair so you don’t have to limp with your crutches and struggle to open the door, glaring at other people when they get a little too close.

It was embarrassing when you accidentally let go of the book you were reaching for, a little too afraid to ask Jenna for help since you didn’t want her to get a staff. She had yelled at the person who worked there for making it too hard for her girlfriend to reach.

“I fucking swear, if one of your dumb ass books falls on her and I see it, I’m suing you,” she snaps. You two left the store within 10 minutes, you were practically tugging on her arm as she was yelling at the poor lady. Like a child trying to drag their parents to the toy selection. She had carried you out of the bookstore as you mouthed apologies to that lady.

-

“Oh damn, that looks even more Wednesday worthy,” Emma scrunches her nose, gently touching your cast around your leg. Jenna’s rubbing your thigh, cautiously looking at the short blonde-hair. Emma’s always been sweet and gentle, Jenna’s never snapped at her. 

She’s just making sure you don’t get hurt. You can tell from the way she looks at you, at others, eyes flickering everywhere.

Like if they don’t move, then some runaway piano will crash into you.

You comfort her, leaning into her touch. She sighs a little and plays with your hair.

Marker caps pop out as Emma looks at you, “Blue or yellow?”

“Both?”

“Of course,” she softly murmurs, writing silly sweet words on your cast with Jenna.

For a moment, you look at your phone, scrolling through social media and the pictures you have with your girlfriend. You hear a door open and Emma greeting Percy and some other of the cast.

“That stunt seriously got you into crutches?” Hunter asks, looking at your foot, “You’re okay though, right?”

You send him a grateful nod, “Could’ve been worse. But the stunt looks real now, right?” You joke and Jenna giggles slightly.

“How do you manage to fail that stunt? I mean, that’s honestly impressive.” Percy remarks, crossing his arms as your eyes narrow.

Jenna slowly turns to him, her mouth speaking for you, “I think it would’ve been better to have your foot broken. I would’ve smiled then.” Her voice dulls, monotone as she stares daggers at him, before turning back to you and kissing your collarbone.

Percy hums, a little annoyed, “Well, if I did the stunt, I would’ve done it perfectly. People who’d end up in a cast are just clumsy.”

You feel your eyes roll, a huff escaping your lips.

It isn’t long until you see Jenna, fuming, muttering a few inaudible curse words.

The man clasps his hands together, playing with his jacket as he grabs an apple from the apple basket, tossing it up and down.

“Hey Hunter, catch,” he shouts, aiming his apple to Hunter, who’s right in front of you.

“Percy watch it-” Jenna warns.

“Perc, I don’t think we should do it in here, maybe outsi-”

Hunter gets cut off as the apple comes jerkily towards him, with full speed. It’s not even going to his hand, it’s going where his waist is. He immediately steps to the side, and you feel the apple slam right where your leg is broken. You hiss in pain, jerking back as you cling onto Jenna. The pain rings through your whole body as Emma looks at him in shock. She looks at you, trying to gently rub it, “Oh my god, are you good?”

“Baby,” Jenna gasps, your eyes meeting hers as your lip trembles. You don’t have very good pain tolerance, embarrassment floods through you, your ears burning slightly. You hope you’re not crying because an apple hit your broken leg.

“Oh my gosh, do you want me to go back to the nurse?” She sniffs, brushing your hair back to comfort you. She understands your pain, it must’ve hurt like hell. You shake your head and try to distract yourself from the echoing pain. It hurt.

“Whoops, sorry Y/N, didn’t see you there,” he says, his genuine voice laced slightly with sarcasm. You don’t miss it. You almost feel like flipping him off.

Neither does your girlfriend. There’s fire crackling behind her eyes. 

She’s standing up, holding you close before grabbing the apple, scrunching it and throwing it to Percy with full force. 

You think it hit his nose, maybe broke it? Emma smirks, fistbumping Jenna as you curl into her more. 

“Oh fuck Percy,” Jenna gasps, dramatically, “Sorry, I didn’t see you there. That was my bad,” she sarcastically says.

"You-" the man is about to retaliate when Jenna lifts the other apple basket next to her, "You wanna go?" She challenges, ready to throw another apple while doing some Street Fighter stunt and bouncing up and down.

"I'm going to throw this whole damn apple basket if you touch her," she warns, throwing another apple at him, he howls. "Ow! Ow! Ow! Oh fuck!"

She shrugs, lifting you up in her arms. 

Percy is cursing, his nose is slightly bleeding as he screeches like a child and runs to the bathroom. No one goes after him. 

“That was so badass,” says Hunter, watching Percy slam the door.

Jenna watches him with a grin on her face, looking down at you and rubbing your injured leg, “Are you hurt?” Even with all that time, your leg is hurting. You nod, slightly, as she kisses your temple. 

“Let’s get you home, Em, I’m going to head out a little early.”

The blonde nods with understanding, “Okay, I’ll see you Friday. Hope your leg is okay Y/N, I’ll make sure to throw the basket of apples when Percy comes out. Maybe I can break his nose again?”

That makes you chuckle as you hold onto your girlfriend, “That sounds good.”

Jenna smiles at you, nuzzling her nose to yours, “Bye, Em!”

Emma smiles to you two, at least every person in the room is holding an apple and eyeing the door. “Bye, Jenna! Bye, Y/N! Love you!”

You three blow each other kisses as she gets to drive you to her apartment.

It’s not long before she’s carefully carrying you, ignoring the way you try to resist and telling her you can walk by yourself. The rest of the night is spent with her in the bath with you, one injured foot resting up while you two are soaked in bubbles. You two end it off with cuddling each other.

“Gosh I love you,” she sighs, “Can’t believe someone would actually go out of their way to mess with my pretty girl.”

You press your finger to her nose, “I should tape a warning sign on your forehead, “Caution, if you touch her girlfriend she will physically hunt you” maybe that would work?” 

She slaps your arm, rolling her eyes, “Maybe.”

“That’s my girl.”

[nimnia]

𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐘

pairing ── kim minji x female reader

summary ── in which she realizes how much of a lovesick fool she has become, and how needy she became because of you.

contains ── wholesome, non idol au, potter job, confession, whipped minji, reader flirt, soft make out, emotional, slight possessiveness

taglist ── @flyingcigarettes

[masterlist]

── ── ꒰ 𓎻 ꒱ ── ──

"oh."

minji mutters as she freezes by the door frame, eyes landing on you standing by the table filled with different types of fresh pottery, obviously made by you. you just place down your current one and turn to see minji blinking as she watches you.

you blink back before looking away, feigning indifference as you walk away to your seat. you sat down and wet your hands with fresh water that you prepared after finishing the last pot you made.

"morning." you greet simply, not sparing her a glance as you grab a good amount of clay before cupping your hand to gather water and pour it onto the dry clay.

minji felt awkward, walking over to the clean area where your bags are resting. she gently places down her bag, removing the headphones around her neck before shoving them into her bag.

she glances at you while removing her jacket, eyes soft as you gently move your hands onto the wet clay, forming them into your desired shape.

she averts away as she hangs her jacket before heading to another table to get her apron. as she wears them and tying the tie on her back, she brushes her wavy hair over her shoulder and rolls up her sleeves.

she walks over to the other seat next to you, sitting down as she presses her feet onto the pedal to check for speed and capability. Satisfied with the perfect result, she glances over at you once again, staring at you for a good minute before clearing her throat as she looks away with flushed cheeks.

"so..." she mumbles, tapping the clean bat as she thinks over what she should converse on. her heart was racing, and loud. she found it hard not to look at you, "uhm.. how many pots have you made so far?"

well, she tries at least. a rather good way to start the day with you, in a way not to annoy you unlike before.

your hands never stopped as you replied, "six of them." minji felt her heart flutter, cursing at herself for being so flustered around you for no particular reason.

she cleared her throat again awkwardly, "right, that's nice." she responded, eyes wandering over her set before noticed something important.

"oh.. i forgot the water." minji mutters under her breath as she takes the bowl and stands up, walking to the sink, unaware of your eyes landing on her back.

taking her time to rinse the bowl and gather water in it, and might as well wash her hands clean, she breathes to calm her nerves. she doesn't know exactly why she felt nervous around you today. she would've understood that she was a bit late today but it felt different.

it has been a year since minji had been hired into her auntie's pottery shop as a potter. the new young adult has been wanting to pay her college tuition with ease, and thankfully, her kind auntie offered her this job with a good salary that could afford her tuition and even her needs.

when she first met you, it was only you that had been working aside from her auntie. after losing some of her auntie's workers due to some personal issues or whatever, you were, basically, the only one that stayed.

minji was grateful to you for staying with her auntie, even if she doesn't know the full story of what happened. and it was obvious that her auntie doted and adored you quite a lot, when it came to minji's thoughts that you were a good person, based on her auntie's endless conversation about you.

when she tries to get to know you, however, you are a bit cold and indifferent towards her, barely sparing her any glances or sometimes take a long time to reply to her questions or talks.

although minji doesn't really mind, she felt a bit sad about being treated like this. but, as she assumed, maybe you don't like people much, aside from her auntie.

it was a long process and effort, but as time went on within a year, she was able to make long conversation with you, though it was just about the pottery, yet she doesn't really care.

it was nice to hear your voice and chat with you.

you were still like that— cold and maybe awkward, but certainly matured and collected— but you have your rare times when you suddenly become a bit clingy or a talker.

it was endearing, in minji's part.

almost adorable.

"minji?" your voice suddenly interrupts her thoughts, snapping her out and turning to you to see you staring at her with a stain of clay over your chin. minji blinks twice, and her face burns flusteredly.

she didn't notice that she had finished gathering water and washing her hands and had sat down on her chair, staring at the bat blankly until she was called by you.

she pressed the back of her wrist against her lips, looking away to hide her red face from you. "m-my bad.. sorry." she apologizes softly as she breathes to calm her nerves against her skin.

her ears turn red when she hears you hum in response, "are you going to start or what?" you say as you stop pressing your feet on the pedal, at the same time the bat stops spinning as well.

minji cleared her throat, nodding sheepishly with a pursed smile. "yeah, i'm starting." she responded, breathing to cool down her burning face and ears. her heart never stopped racing, just to be around your presence was enough to do something with her heart.

as she begins to do her business, you are staring at her with half-lidded eyes, calm in your eyes. it was obvious that minji noticed your gaze, just her eyes wandering around nervously and her hands trembling against the wet clay, she made a small mistake by her thumb pressing down too deep.

"ah-" minji sputters, blinking at the mess she had made. she clicked her tongue in embarrassment, muttering a quiet apology under her breath as she pressed down the whole clay to start over again.

it has been almost an hour before minji finally finishes with a smile. a large pot perfect for large-sized plants with a good amount of space inside the body, minji was satisfied with her work but was embarrassed to see that she took almost 30 minutes just to finish this.

"that looks nice," you suddenly said, making her look up from her work to you standing near the sink, facing her way. but minji's eyes widened to see your white polo's two bottoms were open, instantly looking away from your... uh, pretty cleavage.

her heart raced again, her thoughts were quick to turn into a storm. "c-could you cover up, please..?" she stutters as she is still looking away, heart jumping to hear you walking. she doesn't know if you're walking towards her or away.

"sorry, the clay stained my collar so i cleaned it a bit," you said calmly, wiping your wet hands with your apron, sighing as you blow away the stubborn fringes over your eyes.

minji bit her lower lips, aware of her own ears burning. "r-right.. alright," she mumbled, turning to her work instead before noticing her hair was covered with clay.

"ugh.." she grimaces, about to wipe it away when she notices her hands were completely covered with the same clay. slowly, she glances up to you through her eyelashes, already making eye-contact with you.

her cheeks turn rosy, "um.. could you.." she bit her tongue, unable to keep her trembling voice. but when she hears your footsteps approaching, you walk towards her way with your hand holding a hair tie.

she blinked when the thought, '.. did she prepare that already?' it popped into her mind, and again, her heart raced even more. the thought of you preparing the hair tie already before she says anything was so..

fuck.

she looks down on her lap, ears booming with her heart beating furiously and flushed face as you stop behind her. she couldn't see your face, and she doesn't want to, for the sake of her dignity of maintaining her cool side.

obviously, she was failing quick.

then her shoulder quivered when your fingers gently pressed around her skull, gathering her hair together and basically pressing your stomach on her back. the warmth of your body was quick to spread around minji— and exaggeratedly, around minji's soul and mind.

her breath was turning shaky, eyes clouded as she subconsciously leans back onto your stomach, finding your overall presence and everything so comforting.

behind her, you smile warmly as you gently tie her hair into a pony tail, brushing out her light fringes over her forehead with your fingers. then, you gently take out her side bangs in front of her ears and twirl them almost in a flirty way.

and you just know that minji saw it, just the way her shoulder jumps and her head bowing down with her ears reddening like an apple.

you pull away from her back, but your finger lingers lightly on her neck, your smile softening when minji presses her legs together. "...there, all done," you muttered behind her, eyes glued on her back.

minji felt her sweat dropping, her legs shaking and her ears burning. she was getting crazy and it was because of you. she was getting insane and it was because of you. really— you're turning her into a fool. a lovesick fool.

and she's not even gonna complain!

"t..thanks," minji mumbled, trying to keep her voice normal and her heart calm, but she was failing miserably. her voice cracked in-between, breathing became heavy and her hearing was just filled with her beating heart.

it was so ridiculous.

"mhm," you hum in response, your smile vanishes as you walk away, tending to your drying pots, leaving minji in her overstimulated state. inside her head was full of cursing towards herself, for being so weird around you.

'aah.. shit, i want to confess. i want to say how i feel to her-' she sobbed internally, biting onto her lower lips to stop her eyes from tearing up in frustration. she doesn't know why she's holding back.

maybe it's because of the rejection that you'll give her? or maybe because of fear that you'll think of her as a weird person who likes women? but she only likes you!

no— she loves you. she wants to tell you her feelings. she wants to say that she has never liked a woman but you, she wants to say that you are her first love, she wants to say everything to you.

but it was so difficult, the fear of getting rejected by you would feel so much worse than having a physical injury.

but minji was determined. she will confess. it has been a year ever since her feelings grew so much bigger than she had initially expected, and it was time to release her feelings to you.

she could only pray that you wouldn't hate her after..

─────

minji waited for the day to finish, eyes staring at the sun setting down, replacing with the awaiting white moon. it has been a long day, time consumed just making new different types of pots and bowls, all used for human resources.

although it was fun in most parts, it's tiring mentally and physically. constant thinking on how to detail out the creation, how to shape it perfectly, how to size it, how to make a function on it and others.

however, it's a good part. it's a good thing, really. minji has become more creative and more observant than she has ever wondered of herself. with countless ideas for the clay to be created into a new type of creation, it was certainly satisfying to make it just with your hands and mind.

minji doesn't regret taking this job.

footsteps caught her attention, making her turn to see you standing beside her by the window. with your hands on your side and your tired eyes staring at the beautiful moon, the light shines through the glass and makes your features even more beautiful.

finding herself staring at you like an idiot, she shakes her head to shake away the flustered redness on her face. then she hears a soft inhale next to her, causing her to look at you.

she blinks slowly, eyebrows subconsciously furrowing as she watches you. "is something wrong?" minji asks softly, her voice mixed with curiosity and concern. you were careful to turn to her, eyes meeting each other and it felt like the world was moving too slowly.

minji couldn't turn away from your glistening eyes.

"minji," you begin quietly, barely above a whisper but enough for the same aged girl to hear it clearly. the room was silent, except with the oven humming lowly with the pots warming inside the machine.

she hums in response, eyes turning solemn at the sight of the hidden emotion inside your beautiful eyes. what made you look so sad? she wanted to ask, but in fear of being turned away because she was stepping into your line, she stopped herself.

but what you said next stopped her whole world, eyes staring into her eyes and your voice only entering her ears.

"i like you," you mumble, a small melancholy smile forming on your face. your voice sounded so weak, small and vulnerable. you sounded so afraid, fearful yet longing at the same time. yearning for something.

"i like you, minji." you repeat softly, breathing slowly. "so much so, i could barely try to calm my heart from racing like a maniac." your soft smile quivered, the tone in your voice struck something in minji's chest.

your eyes were soft, and yet your voice held something different. full of warmth and cold— the confidence and the fright. those words are things minji has been wanting to hear in a year, words that she has been longing to hear from you, from your lips.

and the moment she finally got it, tears fell onto her cheeks and her eyes never stopped looking into your eyes.

you didn't move, smiling at her like she was the only one in this world, the only person you have ever seen in your entire life. the feeling of your cold hand slowly and shyly intertwining with hers fluttered her heart and stomach with butterflies.

too much butterflies.

"...say something," her teary eyes widened slightly at the sight of your eyes wavering, the fear and nerves were so visible. it clenched her heart into something. her mouth moved, but she couldn't release any words nor sounds.

her lower lips twitched, teary eyes turning clouded before she pulls you into her arms and buries her face onto your neck, embracing you so tight and securely— almost as if she doesn't want anything to take you away from her.

a soft choke from you was enough for her to tighten her grip around you, heart thumping hard against her chest as you embraced her back. burying your face on her shoulder, hands clawing her back and bodies pressed together felt so whole.

the smell of the clay on you was so entrancing, she oddly felt so welcomed and accepted in a way she doesn't understand how a single weird smell was making her feel.

"...i like you too," minji muttered against your neck.

she could hear your heart beating the same rate as hers, rapid and loud. it sounds like you share and hold the same feelings as hers, the same emotions as hers. it felt so surreal.

"i like you a lot— i... i love you, y/n." her words came out shaky, affection, fear, nerves and love in her voice was so loud to you. her arms around you tightened more, her face pressed up to your neck even more and she has you against the wall.

your heart thumped, the sight of feminine tall body hovering over yours. you felt small yet safe in her arms, warm like a home and warm blanket around you.

the world felt cold, but in her arms, it felt so warm.

you breathe softly, eyes closed as you take in her warm embrace and the feelings she was trying to express with her whole body and her words. the wall against your back felt rough, but her body was soft and fit with yours.

your hands clawed onto her back, nose against her hair and her scent was masking over you. it felt so good, it felt so overwhelming. it felt so safe.

"i love you, i love you." minji chants as she pressed her lips against your neck, hands gripping onto your shoulder and waist possessively yet securely. she wants you in her arms, only you.

you gently push her away, softly smiling at her crying face. you cup her cheeks, and brushes your lips with hers. "i love you too, minji," you mumbled back, eyes soft and half-lidded with an overwhelming love in your eyes.

her heart beats so loud in her ears. your eyes that were once so cold and indifferent had turned softer than a cloud, and truer than the truth. you're more than sincere, and that genuine was making her fall in love with you even more.

how could a lovely person like you ever exist?

where have you been all her life?

you pressed your lips on her lips, softly rubbing your thumbs against her wet cheeks as she melts onto your lovely lips. her ever-so-tight grip around you loosened, finally gripping you with gentleness and affection.

the soft movement of both your lips paces up, lips finding and craving for each other. minji, who felt more impatient than ever, sticks out her tongue and slid them between your lips.

your breath hitched before parting your lips, allowing her to slide her tongue in and explore the warmth. tongues dancing gracefully with each other, head tilting to each side, teeth softly clanking onto each other and bodies even more pressed with each other.

you and minji were just so into each other, the world had completely stopped spinning.

she pressed you against the wall more, chasing your lips greedily and melts into you like melted butter. you tasted so nice, good and wonderful. you smell so good, beautiful and enchanting.

everything about you captures her whole attention, and she would gladly kneel down onto your feet and worship you

those hands that were carving and shaping the clay so gently had turned needy and clawing onto her back, desperate to pull her closer and devour her mouth like a hungry maniac.

the soft moans you erupt sent down hot shivers down her spine, causing her to grow possessive and desperate to claim you as her own. but you're still you— you who would share thousands of parts of you with her, you who would gladly give yourself to her.

for her to love you unconditionally, you would do that.

and unbeknownst to you, minji would do it more than that.

── ── ꒰ end ꒱ ── ──

[hellvcifer]

CARING FOR YOU WHEN YOU'RE SICK— ଘ drabbles┆part 2

ft. pairings :: charlie, lucifer, adam, angel dust, vox // gn!reader wc :: 3k note :: i am sick (◞‸◟;) so i wanted to bring a little comfort to others in the meantime. enjoy !! warnings :: canon typical language, pet names used instead of y/n (darling, sweetie, love, babe, sweetheart)

꒰ CHARLIE ꒱

The door to your bedroom slammed open, “Okay!” hurried shuffling and fumbled footsteps accompanied a strained voice. “Oh, no! Wait, wait, wait! Ugh.” Charlie was able to grab the glass of water before it fell off her tray. “Got it!” Her arms were filled with extra blankets, a thermometer, a tray topped with a bowl of hot soup and water, about three bottles of pills, and one with liquid medicine. “Phew! Okay!” She scrambled over to the bed you laid in.

You groaned, the throbbing in your head getting worse every time there was a loud noise. The bed dipped with new weight. You slowly turned over, shifting the blankets around you to do so, feeling them drenched in sweat. “Charlie?” You rasped, seeing her blonde hair swish as she turned to look at you. Her eyes creased in a nervous worry.

“Hi! Okay, look.” She turned back to her things. “I cooked up some soup, I read that the clear broth is supposed to be really good for you! Oh! Also.” She grabbed a few of the pill bottles, held them up. “One of these helps with headaches and muscles aches! And the other will help with your stomach… I think.” She pouted while reading. “Or! I can give you this,” She held up the liquid medicine. “And it should help with… Everything?”

“Charlie…” You tried sitting up, feeling the aching throughout your muscles. You groaned but fully sat up. 

“Oh! And we can take your temperature. I’m not sure how that will work though… Hellborne temps are way higher than Sinners but Sinners temps change when they get here and run higher. Do you think there’s a conversion?” 

“Charlie!” You sputtered, sending yourself into a long coughing fit feeling a sharp pain throughout your head with each one. 

Her brows furrowed, “Here, drink!” She held up the glass of water to your lips, her hand rubbing your back as you did. A few drops of water leaked past the brim before she pulled it away. She moved her palm up your shoulder, then your neck, before coming to your chin. Her thumb brushed away the trail of water that was left.

You looked up at her, bleary-eyed and clammy. Her features brought a weak smile to your face. “Don’t worry, this happened to us before we got here. We get through it… Eventually.” You explained through your raspy voice. 

“I just wish I could make you feel better.” Charlie spoke, head tilting to look at you softly. 

“Having you here is enough.” You giggled. “You’re lucky you can’t get sick or I’d be kicking your worried butt out.” She laughed in response. You turned to look at the liquid medicine and pointed. “That one will work.” 

“Hey.” Charlie spoke, both her hands squishing your cheeks. “Anything you need, and I am right here. Okay?” Her glistening eyes were accompanied with a caring smile. 

You melted. “Thanks Char.”

꒰ LUCIFER ꒱

It may not have been the best idea to try and hide the fact that you were sick from everyone at the hotel. After the battle with Heaven, and rebuilding the hotel, you really didn’t want to be the one caught slacking off. The grand re-opening was soon and everything needed to be perfect.

Which brought you to the present, standing atop of a ladder as you helped hang the very sign that stated what you were prepping for. Lucifer stood at the base to make sure it didn’t tip in the process.

“Okay, a little to the left!” Vaggie called out, standing some feet away and eyeing the placement. “Up a little!” You stood on your toes to make the adjustment, legs straightened to their max as you did so. You began feeling your head fill with pressure, vision slowly overcoming with weird splotches of black and purples. “A little higher on the right.” Vaggie was addressing you, but it seemed muffled the more you tried to shake the increasing feeling of dizziness. 

“Hey, you alright, darling?” Lucifer called up to you, seeing you sway ever so slightly, hand dropping the banner before your body completely leaned backwards and fell off the ladder. He was quick to catch you, calling out your name as you landed in his arms. He cradled your figure, worried eyes staring down at you before being directed to take you to a room by Charlie.

“Dad, don’t worry!” She tried to reason with him, seeing how he watched you with concern. “Angel Dust said that Sinners get sick like this all the time! Some rest and things will be back to normal!” Her dad didn’t budge, brows still creased with worry as he held your hand, seeing your chest rise and sink with raspy breaths. His daughter sighed, “I’ll go get some water.” She took her leave.

Lucifer had no idea Sinners dealt with things like this, even after their deaths. He wished he could take away any discomfort you were feeling. If only he had the power to do so, he would in a heartbeat. 

A groan from your lips brought his focus back to you, he watched your chapped lips become slick with your saliva as you licked them. “Luci?” You felt his hand squeeze, your eyes sliding to see your partner. His hat was missing, hair tousled and wrung as if he couldn’t keep himself from threading his fingers through it, troubled at the thought of somehow losing you. 

“Hey, Sweetie.” He did his best to smile but nothing could prevent the worry from leaking through. “You uh, you gave me quite a scare! Ha-Ha!” He tried to push a smile though it was obviously strained. “H-How are you feeling?”

You glanced around, seeing that you were in one of the newly refurbished hotel rooms. Your eyes squinted, trying to recall the events that led you to waking up here. You had been feeling all but ill for the past few days and did nothing but try and push through it. “I, uh… I’m fine.” You tried to sit up but Lucifer pushed you to lay back down gently. 

“You’re anything but fine.” You met eyes with him once more. “If I hadn’t been there to catch you, it could have been worse.” His voice was shaky as he spoke. “Why didn’t you tell me that you weren’t feeling well?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time I fell.” You tried to scoff out a laugh but seeing his expression you quickly stopped. You sighed, reaching for his hand again, searching for any comfort. He met you with his own, fingers intertwining tightly. “I just… Wanted to help out as much as possible.” You felt his thumb begin to rub along the edge of yours. “I wasn’t feeling well but… I didn’t want to let anyone down.” You saw him melt, now understanding. He felt his heart swell with even more adoration for you.

“Oh, my love.” His other hand caressed your cheek. “There is no way you’d ever let anyone down. Especially with me.” You leaned into his hand a bit more at his words. “If anything is wrong, please promise you’ll come talk with me?” 

You smiled softly before nodding your head. “I guess I should thank you for being there to catch me.” You yanked him towards you, arms wrapping around him tightly into your chest. “My gaurdian angel.” That nearly made his wings pop.

꒰ ADAM ꒱

“Hey Babe!” The door to your bedroom opened, a familiar voice announcing his entrance. “Saw you weren’t at the high council meeting and Danger Tits said you’d be here.” He strutted closer, seeing that the only thing on your bed was a weird lump of blankets. “Uh…” He poked it, “The fuck is this?” He did it a few more times. 

“Sto~op.” You groaned out, muffled through the layers of fabric.

“Uh, ew.” He took a step back, the disgust was ever present in his response. “Sounding a little gross there, babes.”

“Oh screw you.” You threw the blankets off you, narrowed eyes squinting at the intruder. “Why am I sick in Heaven! I thought Angels couldn’t get sick.”

Adam stared for a moment before he bursted into an obnoxious laughter, “Ain’t no way you caught the Angel Allergies!” His cackle continued, clutching his stomach.

“The what?” You spoke flatley, watching him walk around the bedroom and into the on-suite bathroom.

“Every Angel gets them after being in Heaven for a while. It's a side-effect for human angels.” He explained shuffling in the cabinet. “Can’t believe you actually caught them, that’s so lame!”

“Oh, like you’ve never been sick before!” You tried to challenge but your stuffed sinuses made you sound like a little kid throwing a tantrum. 

It only caused Adam to laugh even more. “Fuck no. The first man doesn’t get sick.” The water ran for a second before he walked back out, throwing a white bottle that rattled familiar to pills. “You’re welcome.”

You caught them, all but ungraciously. “What are these?” You glanced at them before having a glass of water shoved into your other hand.

“I can’t have my arm candy looking like a wreck, okay?” He sat down next to you on his side of the bed. Arms crossed behind his head. “Take two of those and you’ll be fine.” Your tired gaze slid over to see him resting, his mask now gone and eyes closed. “You’re stuck in bed until they go away.”

You huffed before quickly taking the pills with a few gulps of water. You drank the liquid entirely and set the empty glass on the bedside table. You immediately turned towards your man and tackled him. Your body cushioned by his and the impact was followed by a breathless grunt from him. “What the–”

“Thanks, babe.” You hummed, and squished your face into his chest. His hand hovered your form before settling around you, pulling you closer into him. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He glanced down at you, seeing your eyes close with a peaceful sigh. “Just get better, okay?” 

꒰ ANGEL DUST ꒱

“See ya whores later!” Angel threw his right hands into the air as he walked through the lobby. “This body doesn't get paid the big bucks for nothing.” He pushed his fluff up, eyes catching a peek at your hunched over form at the bar. He immediately stopped walking. 

“What’s the matter with you?” He took a few steps closer. “Hey,” He poked your arm, causing you to finally sit up straight and wearily turn your head towards him. “Oh, you look like shit.” His lip curled at the sight. Dark eye bags, bleary eyes, dull complexion.

“Thanks, Ange.” Your tone had no inflection of appreciation as you rolled your eyes. “You’re a real confidence booster, you know that?”

“No seriously, what’s going on?” His voice deepened, brows creasing as he sat down on the bar stool next to you, scooting closer. 

You waved a hand in the air, shooing him away. “Nothing, I’m fine.”

“More like anything but fine.” Husk spoke as he walked behind the bar. “Spends most nights sitting here rather than sleeping.”

“Shut. up. Husk.” You snapped at the bartender. 

“Insomnia, huh?” Angel sighed, hand hovering your shoulder. He hesitated. “Listen, I gotta go but… Take care of yourself, okay?” You glanced at him before holding your hand out. He grabbed yours and felt you squeeze.

“Don’t worry about me.” You tilted your head and smiled, though unconvincingly. “I’m okay… You should go before you’re late.” Your brows creased knowingly. 

“Right…” He stood,  nervously looking over your figure before letting go and turning to leave. As much as he wanted to stay, to take care of you, he couldn’t do anything to upset Val when he was needed at the studio. 

The next time he saw you was when he had finished shooting. Finally making his way back to the hotel and seeing you in the same spot where he had left you. Except now, you were passed out.

“The fuck, Husk?” He stomped over, “You can’t just pour out the drinks without regard to someone’s health!” He angrily glared at the bartender. 

“I didn’t pour anything.” He huffed, tone blunt as ever. “Started snoozing the minute you left. Figured I’d let them catch some sleep for once.” He shrugged. 

“You– but– Ugh! Nevermind!” Angel came closer, arms wrapping around you softly before lifting you up. He made his way to your hotel room, kicking the door shut with his foot and walking in to lay you on your bed. The jumble finally brought you out of your sleep with a hummed groan. 

“Ange?” You asked, eyes squinting to see his dual colored eyes, a sense of relief flooding your body. You sighed. “You’re back.” You reached out for his hand, searching for his. He returned quickly, though confused. “I’m glad.” The comfy bed now felt like a warm cloud, pulling you back to your slumber once more.

“Wait a minute,” His eyes widened, falling to his knees next to your bed. “Is that why you’ve been staying up?” He whispered in shock.

“Well someone’s gotta make sure you get back safely.” You mumbled into your pillow, feeling your eyelids becoming heavy. He let out a long sigh, overwhelmingly filled with a sense of warmth, hand coming to your head and resting there. 

“Thank you.” He laid his head in his other set of arms next to you. “For everything.”

꒰ VOX ꒱

The man released an exasperated sigh after reading his most recent text from Val. He had to do everything around here, didn’t he? All to keep up appearances with the public and uphold their reputation. Because if it wasn’t his dear Val running up a storm, then it was Velvette. 

Vel’s on a rampage~ ♡

He pushed open the doors to said woman’s studio, seeing her shouting at her workers and her assistant cowering behind one of the trash cans. Taking cover from the throne spools of fabric and occasional scissors. 

“Velvette.” Vox cascaded in a calming tone, walking closer to her and dodging an incoming hairbrush. 

“The fuck do you want, flat face?” She snarled through heavy breaths, “Can’t you see, I’m busy!”

“Yes, of course, so busy.” He rolled his eyes. “And why are you destroying your department this time?” He leaned forward, eyes intent for an answer.

“My star pupil decided to show up late today!” She shouted, “Do you know how much money was spent for this show! And out of nowhere, cough cough, the bitch is sick!” She swiped at her phone, dialing a number. “If that dumbshit doesn’t show, I will kill every last one of you!”

Vox’s brow raised instantly, knowing exactly who she was talking about. “I’m sure someone as smart as you will figure things out.”

“You don’t think I know that!?” She turned towards him. “Go get me my lead!” He huffed and with a zap, he disappeared through one of the many security cameras and into your apartment within the building.

He took a few steps, searching for any sign of you. It was eerily quiet until a symphony of coughs could be heard from the kitchen. They became louder the closer he got, seeing you hunched over the sink. “Oh, No…” He walked over, placing a hand on your back and rubbing to ease your discomfort.

You finished out your fit, “Don’t mind me.” You sniffled, grabbing a tissue and wiping your mouth clean. “Just hacking up a lung.” You stood up, turning to fully see Vox. “Let me guess… Vel told you.” You spoke flatly, knowing his appearance wasn’t a coincidence.

“You should have called me.” He frowned.

You rolled your eyes, walking over to the hot tea you were brewing until you were rudely interrupted by your weak immune system. “I knew your schedule was busy…” You poured in some more honey. “Not to mention, Vel went off before I could even finish telling her I couldn’t make it today.” You raised the mug to your lips, letting the warm liquid relieve your scratchy throat.

“Velvette’s show is the least of your problems.” He spoke and watched your turn to him. “She can find a new lead. You need to rest.” 

“Yeah, but you’re all about saving face.” You poked the corner of his screen, flashing a small smile before walking past him. “Faking it on that runway for an hour won’t be hard.” His steel claws grabbed your wrist and stopped you. 

“You’re not doing her show.” His eyes glared down at you. Screen flashing a few times before revealing his face once more. “I’ve canceled my appointments for the day.”

“What?” your eyes widened. He grabbed your mug, hand falling to your back and guiding you towards your bedroom. “And you expect Vel to just be okay with that?” 

“Let me handle it.” He brought you to your bed, setting your tea on your bedside table before pulling back your blankets. “You’re on bedrest until this thing has flushed itself out of your system.” 

You propped your hand on your hip, “If I didn’t know any better, Vox. I'd think you cared about me.” You watched his face glitch, blue-screening for a moment. 

“sħᵾⱦ ᵾp ⱥnđ lie down!” His filtered static appeared for a moment with his flustered order.

“Oh, kinky! I love when you get all dominant on me.” You smirked, seeing his face continue to malfunction. “Cool your hard drives.” A soft giggle escaped your lungs before you started coughing again. You slid under the comforter, getting situated as he flicked the blankets over. He passed you your tea and watched you take a sip to relieve your coughing. 

“Stay.” He pointed and glared down at you before turning away. Your fingers swiftly caught the tail of his suit, stopping him. He swiveled his head, brows raised.

You turned away, “Thank you.”

A gentle smile graced his mouth. He stepped closer, hand on your head to lean you towards him ever so slightly. His warm screen grazed your forehead as he softly kissed it. “Anything for you, my love.”

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[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Sneaking Around

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~900

Warnings: fluff

Summary: You and Spencer are keeping a relationship a secret from your brother, Derek

Square Filled: "don't you touch her." (2022) for @spencerreidbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

You don’t ever want to leave this bed. It feels too damn good to want to start your day. Spencer has been up for a while just watching you sleep. He likes to see your eyes flit back and forth underneath your eyelids as he wonders what you might be dreaming about. Where do you go when you fall asleep? Based on the smile on your face, your dream is about him.

“Darling. Wake up,” Spencer whispers and nudges his nose with yours.

You scrunch up your nose in the way he loves, the way that makes you look like a squirrel, and you open your eyes slightly. He waits until he sees your bright eyes before kissing the tip of your nose. There you go again with the cute nose scrunch.

“Why did you wake me? I was having a great dream,” you sigh happily.

“Was it about me?”

“When is it never about you?”

“Tell me what it was about.”

You yawn and move away to get a better look at him.

“Well, I was on this boat and it wasn’t a cruise ship-type boat but like a sailboat. You know, the one Rossi lets us use sometimes. We were in the middle of nowhere but we didn’t feel lost or felt scared. We felt content. I decided to go swimming so I jumped into the water, but then I grew a mermaid tail and you were so jealous because I swam faster than you. You jumped into the water to see if you could grow a tail but couldn’t. So, I decided to take you to my underwater world where we had fish children and ate kelp all the time.”

“Sounds adventurous,” Spencer laughs.

“It was weird,” you giggle.

“So, while you were snoring,” you push Spencer away playfully, “I was thinking maybe we can go up to your parents’ cabin this weekend.”

“That sounds ama—wait,” you sigh, “we can’t. Derek is having his friends over. He’s taking the weekend to do whatever it is they plan on doing. The last thing I need is to be caught by him.”

It’s not that Derek doesn’t approve of your relationship with Spencer, it’s just he’s so protective over you. You have nothing to do with the police or the FBI, and he doesn’t want you getting mixed up in that life. It’s bad enough he’s in it, he doesn’t want to add another person you could possibly lose. He’s only looking out for you, and you understand that, but you fell in love with Spencer the second he introduced you two.

You two have been seeing each other behind his back, and it’s been working out so far.

“Maybe we can rent a hotel room, then. I really want to go away with you for the weekend.”

“I’d like that,” you grin.

You lean over and kiss him, but the kiss is anything but short and sweet. It’s the kind of kiss that makes your head spin. The kind of kiss that makes you want to do very bad things with him. The kind of kiss that makes you fall in love with him all over again. The kiss gets heated very quickly and he pulls you onto his lap so you can feel how hard you’re making him.

Suddenly, the front door slams open and your brother can be heard laughing downstairs.

“Reid! You here?”

“Shit,” you gasp.

You scramble off Spencer and fall off the bed toward the window. Spencer laughs at your panic just as you crawl underneath his bed. Seconds later, Derek opens Spencer’s bedroom door, and you cover your mouth to keep quiet. Spencer doesn’t mind that Derek barges in whenever he wants. With him are Matt and Luke, and the latter smirks at the flushed look on Spencer’s face.

“Why is Y/N’s car here?”

“She dropped it off here,” Spencer thinks quickly. “She took an Uber to hang out with the girls. She didn’t want to drive, and it was cheaper to get one from here than her house.”

Luke looks around the room and sees your toes underneath the bed. He smirks but doesn’t comment on it.

“When she gets back, she can sleep in the guest room.”

“No problem,” Spencer shrugs.

“Don’t you touch her,” Derek points at him.

“I won’t. Why did you come here? Not that I don’t love your company.”

Spencer doesn’t want to get up because then they’ll see the boner he has.

“We’re going to a baseball game. Want to come?”

“No, thank you. I have a bunch of books to get through.”

“I can wait ten minutes,” Derek laughs.

“Maybe next time.”

“Alright. Let me know when she gets home safe.”

“Sure thing.”

The three men leave the room and Spencer busts out laughing at the situation.

“Shut up,” you glare and hit the underside of his bed. You crawl out from underneath it when you know it’s safe to do so. You kneel on the bed and kiss him lovingly. “Derek may be my brother, but he’s not the boss of me. I love you with all my heart, but I better go before he sees me.”

“We gotta tell him soon.”

“I know but sneaking around with you is so much fun,” you wink.

Instead of leaving through the bedroom door like a normal person, you sneak out of the window where there is a tree that slopes down, giving you the perfect escape route. Spencer watches you go with a chuckle, glad that someone like you is in his life.

x

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