#it’s so satisfying to come back to something you’ve made in the past and see how you feel about it now

[mariwritess]

Winter Warmth - Itoshi Sae

Content - fluff, occ Sae (?), no angst or smut, not proofread, fem-bodied reader (mention of a skirt) but no use of pronouns for reader.

Author's Note - Hello again! With exam seasons coming up, I have not gotten the opportunity to write as frequently as I would have liked to :( I wasn't satisfied with my draft and kept rewriting it, but I finally have something to post. Anyhow, I hope I haven't made too many grammar mistakes, please enjoy!

You hate the winter. You’ve always hated it, and always will. At least that’s what you’ve told yourself during every previous excruciatingly uncomfortable period of cold weather that gnaws at your bones and numbs your lungs upon inhaling the crisp frigidness of the air. This year was no different, you grumbled to yourself as your frozen fingers found refuge in the scarce warmth the pockets of your jacket could provide. Sure, you could’ve dressed warmer, added another layer, put on a proper scarf… but as you did so every time, you’d succumbed to the nagging urge to replicate an outfit from your Pinterest board. So what if it was full of clothing far too thin for such icy temperatures? A proper look and overall distinguished appearance was definitely worth the dreadfully long soon-to-be-over moments of suffering mild discomfort. You hugged your arms to your chest as you continued to make your way across the pavement, a small sigh of relief escaping past your lips and fogging into the air as his apartment comes into view— the tall, unassuming building a beacon of hope amidst the growing desperation to escape the permanent tremble in your muscles and the constant chatter of your teeth clashing together. Cars rumbled past your side, engines sputtering and groaning against their confines, and other passerby — clearly more appropriately dressed for such weather — shuffled along with their chins tucked into the neckline of their coats, noses buried into the fluff of their scarves. You hurried your step, eager to escape Winter’s icy nips.

Finally, you pressed your shoulder against the glass door of his building’s lobby and used your weight to shift it open, the sudden wave of warmth upon your entrance forcing an audible sigh of relief from your lips. He’s going to kill me when he sees me… You shudder at the thought, rubbing your palms up and down your arms in a naÏve attempt to appear less… half-frozen to death. The echoing clicks of your soles against the floor trailed behind you, the faint smell of cleaning products lingering in the corridor you traversed, habit guiding you past the many apartment doors you knew weren’t his. 27A… 29A… 31A… 33A— you come to a halt, facing the wooden door you’d opened and closed countless times before – the sight a familiar landmark in the midst of neighbours you’d never met. You pause for a moment, an odd sense of self-awareness overcoming you as your hand lifts to flatten your hair and readjust your shirt. You had half the mind to turn around and make up some kind of excuse– you woke up late, your (nonexistent) dog died, you had last minute plans with the President– any possible excuse to escape the earful you were about to receive from your fretful boyfriend. Ultimately deciding against it, you shook your head to rid yourself of any ridiculous theories before lifting your hand up and letting your knuckles fall repeatedly against the polished wood. A moment passes, silence drowning out the shuffling of your shoes against the doormat before a muffled sound emerges from within – and soon enough, the door swung open.

He looks at you for a beat, his eyes judgingly raking over your choice of clothing as he raises an eyebrow. Ever the sassy man, he was.

“I didn’t know summer was in the middle of January.” Sae hums, pulling the door open a little wider as he leans against the doorframe, almost as if awaiting whatever excuse you’d made up this time.

You sigh, giving him a sheepish grin when your brain fails to back you up on your poor decision skills. “I know, I’m sorry. I won’t get sick, though, I promise.”

He exhales, clicking his tongue in disapprovement before moving forward, laying a gentle hand on your lower back to guide you into his apartment. “You better not, or you’ll only have yourself to blame.” he huffs, knowing full well he’d be at your beck and call to nurse you back to health, but he’d never admit that. Not to your face, at least. He frowns, albeit lacking any real frustration as he watches you remove your shoes and make your way to the living room. “Not that you’ll listen, anyway…” he murmurs, pressing his thumb to the control panel to turn the heating up before joining you on the sofa — the plush fabric dipping under his weight as he sinks his way down beside you, his arm outstretched over the back of the sofa.

You let yourself lean into him, a force of habit hard to shake off – not that either of you would want to, anyway. A gentle sigh slips past your lips as you bask in the warmth of his apartment. It was all so warm, so comfortable, so… homely. You supposed, in a way, that you could remain like this forever; nestled against the world– your world.

Maybe winter wasn’t so bad after all.

[oceantornadoo]

inspired by a dramoine fic i read! simon riley x f!reader

it’s the third time today someone has handed you simon’s paperwork and you’re starting to get confused. in fact, there’s the distinct feeling that you’ve missed a memo.

first, it was the visiting captain, so you couldn’t blame him for confusing lieutenants. but then it was johnny turning in his mission report, muttering something about “cannae be late this time if ah give it ye, lass.” which was odd, considering you weren’t his direct report (you were gaz’s). but what really sent you over the edge was getting called into price’s office and being met with a load of folders addressed to one Lt. Ghost (Confidential).

“sir, i’m a bit confused as to why you can’t just give these to him yourself.” price looked up from his desk, eyes flickering from under his boonie hat. “hav’ you seen ‘im today, lieutenant?” you nodded immediately while trying to scoop all of this paperwork (that was not yours!) into your arms. “yessir, i saw him before breakfast and then during training and then…what?” price had silently quirked an eyebrow, his beard echoing the movement. “i haven’t seen ‘im all day, so i figure it’s faster for you to deliver since you’re more well-versed in his movements than i am.” huh. “i’m sure he’s just doing his ghost thing, y’know? slipping into shadows and…”, price patiently gave you an exasperated look, “but i’ll get these to him, sir. see you later!”

the problem was, you knew exactly where simon was. in your office.

his own had an unfortunate ground level window near the track, so he was always complaining about nosy recruits until you offered to share some office space. temporarily, of course. it’s not like you were using all the empty space anyways and it made it much easier to get the opinion of your fellow lieutenant on a report by walking over to his desk, rather than going up and down stairs. that was the second point he made, and who were you to say no?

after pushing open your office door, you beelined for simon’s desk, dumping the stacks of folders on his desk. “wot’s this?” his mask was off so you could see his eyes widen at the mess of papers. “everyone now thinks i’m a drop off box for your paperwork, so i got burdened with all of this when i was doing my rounds.” he nodded thoughtfully, taking a sip of his tea. “cheers, love.”

“what do you mean, cheers? don’t you think it’s odd for them to give me your paperwork? and why do we even have so much paperwork? i swear im drowning in it this week.” he snorted at your last sentence, opening the first folder in front of him while you rounded your desk, sitting in your comfy chair with a hmpf. “yer out an’ about more than me, tha’s all.” well, that was true. the infamous ghost was not known to be a sociable person on base. “i guess…” you turned to your old radio, passed down by a retired captain, and turned on simon’s favorite classical station.

“ya want mess or the pub tonight, love?” another great thing about being on base with simon - you never had to pay for dinner. “actually, that thai place we like is doing a special tonight.” he gave you a half-smirk, one cheek ticking up. “bloody raccoon. we had thai two nights ago.” you didn’t respond, instead blinking your best impression of puppy dog eyes at him. simon sighed, then shook his head at his desk. “olrigh’. the things i do.” you smiled and winked, dipping your head back down to your desk. “thanks, si.”

-

two weeks later, you were prepping for a duo mission with simon. price had been grilling the two of you for the past three hours, making sure you had everything memorized. satisfied, he leaned back in his office chair and rubbed his temples, the feeling of a headache coming on. “one more thing.” both of you snapped your head up at price, desperate to leave and eat. you’d already missed dinner and your stomach was complaining.

“the safe house is pretty small, basically a shack. one bed, no couch. i assumed ‘s fine since y’r datin-“ “‘s fine, captain.” simon cut him off, an out of character move that had you frowning. “it’s fine, cap. not like ive never slept on a floor before.” now price was frowning at what you said. he turned to simon, who shook his head imperceptibly before becoming still again. price’s brow furrowed but he didn’t push further. he got up from his chair, eyes flitting suspiciously between you two. “i’ll see you at 0600.”

“what was that about?” you whispered to simon after as you walked down the hall. “‘s nothin’.” you were missing something but it was so unclear what. “he thinks that we’re datin-“ “said it’s nothin’, sweetheart. he’s an old man. let’s get some food in you, yeah?” you nodded, letting him guide you to the kitchen. price wasn’t that old. and you were not dating simon riley.

-

the mission was beautiful, your best one in years. it was the first duo mission between you and simon, so the nerves of pulling your own weight had settled in hard. thankfully, your skills balanced each other out and you’d gotten the target in record time. now, all you had to do was wait in the safe house for exfil.

“you were so good.” you whispered once he’d locked the door. he only hummed a response, checking exit and entry points while you set up your packs, scrounging up MREs and testing the shack for electricity. price wasn’t kidding - it was practically a studio apartment. one bed, a bathroom and a decrepit stove. the soldier part of you was fine with it, but that small soft part of you ached for the warmth of your apartment. memories of yelling at simon for using all your shampoo even though he didn’t live there, of him running you a bath after a long day of training.

“you were good too, baby.” he snuck up from behind your spot on the floor and lifted you onto the mattress that had definitely seen better days. you hadn’t even checked it for bed bugs yet. “c’mere.” he pulled you into his lap, unbuckling your tac vest as you pulled off your bandana. you tugged off his mask - the hard shell since you were on a mission - and ran your nails through his short haircut. simon started kissing your neck, wet and sloppy like he couldn’t get enough. the unrestrained want he displayed sometimes scared you. the respective pulsing in both your chest and cunt scared you more.

“so are you sleeping on the floor or am i?” he flipped you over, your back flush with the mattress as simon loomed over you. there was still eyeblack around his eyes, caught on his blonde eyelashes as well, and you couldn’t help the hand that reached up to brush some of it away. “y’r funny, sweetheart.” you grinned at that - a real toothy smile. he bent down to kiss you, scarred lips caressing your own. simon bit your lip and you moaned, sliding your legs out from under him to wrap them around his torso. when you tugged him in he went willingly, grinding into your clothed cunt. his tac vest was still on, scraping against your shirt, hardening your nipples.

“keepin’ you in this bed all night.” cold fingers dipped past the waist of your pants. you were already wet, his fingers sliding easily up and down your slit as they warmed up. that’s when you realized he still had his glove on, his movements harsher than normal. wide eyes met his own, and simon stopped so you could make a decision.

it didn’t take much as you dug your heels into his back harder, meeting him in a sloppy kiss as his gloved thumb played with your clit. “fuckin’ made for me.” he whispered, and you chalked it up to dirty talk because obviously, you weren’t together. he just knew exactly what to do, giving your clit the right amount of pressure as his other fingers teased your hole, the stretch burning more than usual. it only took a few flicks and you were off, your orgasm settling through your bones like a warm cup of tea. “jesus, si.” he grinned, his scarred lips pulling up to show a beautiful smile. “know ya like th’ back of my hand, huh?” you shook your head, capturing the idiot in another kiss.

-

after the mission, after debrief and a hot shower, you made your way back to your base office. thankfully, paperwork had only slightly piled up. one envelope stood out though - a thick card-stock with glossy, swooping letters. an invite to london’s military gala, addressed to a Lieutenant & Lieutenant. simon’s name was next to yours, connected by a singular symbol. you turned to him in disbelief. simon had been going through his own backlog, but his head snapped up under the focus of your glare.

“simon, are we…dating?”

-

this was fun!!! check out the fic i linked it was so good and i couldn’t put it down.

[didyousaykfc]

just reread something I wrote last year and changed bits that I realised didn’t work the way I wanted them to anyway sometimes you need to take time off and come back and relook at the parts you couldn’t make work at the time and also wow I must have been going through it bc apparantly it was written in a single night ooffff

[morganaawriterr]

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ New Haircut;

Synopsis; Sunghoon looks stupidly handsome after cutting his hair, and when you arrive home and see him wearing a sleeveless shirt and teasingly showing himself off, you cant control yourself no more.

Pairing; down bad fem!reader X hot boyfriend!Sunghoon (canon) Genre; i dont even know (?) suggestive; crack; fluff; Words; 0.6k Warning; very thirsty reader (she is just like me for real) sexual innuendos I guess? Author's Note: YALL I'M STILL FERAL OVER THESE SUNGHOON PHOTOS SO I DECIDED TO WRITE SOMETHING ABOUT THEM!! Dont be fooled I wrote this to satisfy MY OWN thirsty self. And yeah, I'm not okay. Just look at him, look at that smirk- I can't- As always, thank you so much for all the love. Likes, and reblogs are always appreciated! Masterlist

You’ve been dating Sunghoon for a few months, and everything has been as perfect as you imagined. He’s a caring, loving boyfriend who always looks after you. You knew how handsome he was, that’s why you had the biggest crush on him ever since he walked past you at university. But every time you think he can’t get any more attractive, he proves you wrong.

Nothing could have prepared you for what you just witnessed. You were coming back from work, feeling a little clingy and missing your boyfriend more than ever. So, to your surprise, when you arrived at your shared apartment and found Sunghoon still there, you were thrilled. It’s Saturday, and Sunghoon usually heads to the gym at 6 p.m. to avoid the crowds, so seeing him home was a delightful surprise.

But you couldn’t believe your eyes when he turned to face you, his brown eyes sparkling with excitement as he waited for your reaction.

Your gaze traveled over his tall figure. He was wearing loose gray sweatpants and a black sleeveless top that clung to his chest and showed off his muscular shoulders and arms. Then, your perplexed eyes moved upward, and you noticed his black hair was slightly shorter, perfectly framing his handsome face. Without makeup, the pretty moles scattered across his face were more visible, and his lips looked redder than usual, so plump and inviting.

“What do you think, pretty?” Sunghoon questioned with a teasing grin, his eyes fixed on your face.

Your mouth hung open, your cheeks flushed a cute shade of red, and your breathing grew uneven.

“Sunghoon…” you whispered, your eyes glued to his lean arms, unable to look away.

“Yes, pretty?” he pressed, a smirk tugging at his lips.

He loved having this effect on you. Especially because you’re usually so opinionated and talkative, but you always seem to turn shy when it comes to him.

“I just had an idea…” you said, stepping closer to Sunghoon and nudging his gym bag aside with your foot. “Maybe you can work out at home today.”

“At home? How?” Sunghoon asked, confused, his thick left eyebrow arching.

“Yeah, at home. With me. In bed,” you flirted, your voice low as you stepped fully in front of him.

“How can I work out in bed?” he smirked, pretending to be clueless about your very obvious invitation.

“Oh, I can show you some good workout positions…” You bit your bottom lip and reached for his head, wrapping your arms around his neck and playing with his freshly cut hair.

“You could’ve just said I look good,” Sunghoon teased, his seductive brown eyes locked on your parted lips.

“Oh no, no, I couldn’t—” Your gaze shifted from his eyes to his red lips. “It wouldn’t be enough to explain how insanely hot you look right now.”

Sunghoon let out a laugh, his cheeks warming at your boldness. His strong arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you forcefully against him, drawing a surprised whimper from your lips.

The two of you stayed still for a moment, eyes locked as your breathing quickened from the closeness. You were the one who made the first move, unable to hold back any longer. Slowly, your lips meet his in a unrushed peck, wanting to savour the moment. But Sunghoon’s lips move impatiently against yours, turning the kiss that was supposed to be slow and passionate to hungry. He couldn't wait. He wanted you.

“Then show me,” he whispered against your lips, his voice low and teasing. “Show me how handsome you think I am.” His words sent a shiver through you, and you hungrily chased after his addictive kiss again, ready to make him regret asking.

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[mercvry-glow]

love me hard love me soft

parings. jack abbot x nurse!reader

summary. jack abbot isn't a soft man, but he'll learn for you.

warnings. age gap (jack mid/late 40s, reader late 20s early 30s), typically pitt medical drama stuff, hospital setting, work place kind of relationship, they're pining but not kissing, other pitt characters, santos is mouthy, no use of (y/n), but let me know if there's more!

notes. the jack abbot grind is real and alive within me, I need so many more fics with him to come out. not much to say here, but since my requests are open I will mention I do try to keep my readers as nondescript as possible so every one can feel welcome here! please enjoy and any and all feedback is welcome, ask box is open as always!

wc. 1600+

It was no secret to the PTMC staff that Jack Abbot wasn’t a soft man. Rough around the edges and tough as nails, the ex army medic was as stoic as they come. He had been at the pitt for a number of years before you came around, working day by day to provide the best care he possibly could for the people that came to the ER. 

It was a hard job, physically and mentally taxing on the body. Everybody kenw that, it was basically in the job description—but you made it easier on him, and everybody saw. 

You, the nurse who had come in as a temp, were the saving grace of quite a few people in the pitt. 

Jack included. 

Sure, he was a hardass but he was genuine and kind if not a bit guarded. 

“You could take it easier on some of the interns ya know,” you said, taking a seat next to Jack as he finished charting a few things on one of the computers at the nurses station. 

He left a small scoff, not turning to look at you “the job isn’t easy, they can go to Robby if they want someone nicer.” 

You gave him a knowing look, “You’re plenty nice, Jack. They just want to learn from you, being more approachable is what makes you a good teacher.” 

Tough love was more Jack’s style, patience was yours. 

“Jesus, woman. You come over here to lecture me or something? I’m sure someone needs their temperature checked.” That remark earned him a slap on the arm and an indignant scoff from you. 

“Oh don’t be an asshole Jack! I’m just saying you’d go a lot farther with some of the younger staff if you could lighten up.” Sitting forward in your rolley chair you scooched closure to the older man, clearly invading his personal space as the two of you continued the conversation in a small moment of peace. 

Jack leaned back in his chair just slightly, eyeing the way your knees bumped against his. You were always doing that—getting in close. Somehow you weren’t scared of what might be underneath all that steel-plated attitude.

He tilted his head toward you. “You know I don’t do well with ‘lightening up.’ That’s your department, Sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me that,” you warned, trying not to smile.

He smirked—just a twitch of the lips, but enough to count. “Then stop smiling every time I do.”

“Touché.”

There was a beat of quiet between you, broken only by the distant rattle of a gurney being rolled past and the soft clack of a keyboard a few feet away. It was almost peaceful. Almost.

“You really think I’m too hard on them?” he asked, voice lower this time—quieter, more honest.

You blinked. He rarely opened the door like that, even after years of working together, of being together. 

“I think you’ve seen a lot of bad, Jack,” you replied, nudging his foot with yours under the desk. “And I think you want to make sure they’re ready for it. That’s not wrong. But… compassion doesn’t make you weak. And letting them in, letting me in, more doesn’t make you soft.”

He didn’t respond right away. Just stared at the monitor, lips pressed tight.

Finally, he said, “You made the Pitt better when you walked in here, you know that?”

You looked at him, surprised.

“That’s not me being soft,” he added gruffly. “That’s just the damn truth.”

You smiled again, leaning back with a little satisfied hum. “See? You can say nice things.”

He groaned and went back to typing. “Don’t get used to it.”

On the otherside of the pitt, a few of the interns (namely Whitaker and Santos) stood watching the interaction. 

They couldn’t understand what was different about you, why Dr. Abbot let you get so close or why it even mattered to them. 

“Is he actually smiling?” Whitaker whispered, brows furrowed like he was witnessing some kind of natural phenomenon.

Santos squinted, arms crossed over her black scrubs. “I think that was technically a smirk. But yeah. I’ve never seen him do that before. Not even when a guy walked in here with a screwdriver in his shoulder.”

Whitaker huffed. “What is it about her? Like… we’ve been here for weeks and the guy barely grunts at us outside of traumas.”

“She called him an asshole once,” Santos said, deadpan. “To his face.”

“That’s what I mean! Anyone else’d be doing triage on themselves. But her? He likes her.”

They both watched as you leaned in and nudged Jack’s arm again, laughing softly at something he said. The kind of sound you don’t really expect to hear in an ER.

Whitaker shook his head. “I don’t get it.”

“Maybe it’s because she doesn’t try too hard,” Santos mused. “She just… gets it. The pace, the patients. Him.”

Whitaker rolled his eyes. “You think it’s cute, don’t you?”

Santos shrugged, hiding a grin. “Kinda. But if you tell anyone I said that, I’ll say you’re lying.”

The brief quiet between didn’t last long—peace rarely did in the Pitt.

“Trauma incoming!” someone called from the double doors, and instantly, the mood shifted. The air snapped to attention. Everyone shot to their feet at the same time, chairs rolling and shuffles heard in unison.

“Room 3,” Dana’s voice rang out. “Ped versus auto, ETA three minutes. Bystander started compressions.”

You and Jack were already moving, grabbing gloves and snapping them on. He tossed you a look, his version of “ready?”—and you gave a nod back, adrenaline kicking into gear.

Inside the trauma bay, the gurney rolled in hard and fast. Blood, pressure alarms, panicked shouts. A young teen, unresponsive, with a cracked helmet and the visible deep red staining the right side of his jeans said it all.

Jack took command like always. “Let’s go! O2 on, wide bore IVs—Kid, stay with me.”

You moved into position while the interns filtered in along the wall, wide-eyed and stiff. Santos lingered a bit too close, trying to be helpful but also trying to see everything at once as per usual.

“Pressure’s dropping,” you called out, hand on the young man’s wrist. “Palpable at 70.”

Jack was already cutting through fabric, assessing the damage. “Get that line in now. If he’s got internal bleeding—”

Santos blurted, “Damn, this is intense. No wonder she’s always stuck to you like glue.”

You froze for a split second—so did Dana and everybody in the room—and Jack’s head snapped up like a missile had locked on.

“What did you just say?” His voice cut through the chaos like a ten blade.

Santos blinked, caught completely off guard. “Uh—I didn’t mean—”

“This is a trauma room, not a gossip circle,” Jack barked. “If you’re not focused on the patient, you can get the hell out.”

Silence fell for just a second before another doctore pushed past Santos to jump in on the line.

“Intern out,” Dana said firmly, giving Santos a nudge toward the door without even looking at her.

You didn’t have time to react, not really—not when a kid’s life was in your hands—but you felt Jack’s presence tighten beside you. All steel again. The warmth from earlier was gone. Not for you—but for everyone else.

And Santos would probably think twice before running her mouth in the middle of a trauma again.

The rest of the team worked in a tight rhythm, the energy electric and focused. Fluids in. Monitors up. The suction buzzed while Robby barked vitals. You stayed glued to the patient’s side, hands steady, voice low and soothing despite the pressure.

After what felt like forever but was only about ten minutes, the kid finally stabilized. Pressure creeping up. Oxygenation improved. No sign of a brain bleed on the portable.

It was a win, another save. 

“Get him up to CT,” Jack instructed, peeling off bloodied gloves. “Page ortho for that femur. Kid’s gonna have a hell of a time if he wants to bike again,”

As the gurney rolled out, the noise faded into the hallway. The tension broke. Air was breathable again.

Jack leaned against the wall as people filed out, pinching the bridge of his nose. You stepped up beside him, just outside the room, letting the buzz of the hospital fill the gap.

“You alright?” you asked softly.

He gave a low grunt. “Would be better if I didn’t have interns running their mouths in the middle of a code.”

“She was probably just nervous,” you said gently, though you couldn’t begin to excuse Santos’s timing. “And maybe a little dumb.”

Jack snorted.

You nudged your elbow into his. “Things look different for everyone.”

His brow quirked, eyes flicking toward you. “That’s what that was?”

You smiled, giving a little shrug. “I mean… could be worse, right?” 

Jack rolled his eyes but didn’t push you away, which for him might as well have been affection after what had just happened.

“I’ll talk to Santos,” you added. “She’s got so much potential. Just needs to learn when to shut up.”

“I’ll make Robby talk to her too,” Jack said quietly, voice low and a little rough around the edges. “But not today. She already got lucky once.”

You leaned your shoulder against the wall, mirroring his posture.

“Y’know, for what it’s worth…” you said, glancing sideways at him, “You were kind of amazing in there, as always.”

Jack looked at you for a long moment, something unreadable flickering in those tired hazel eyes.

“Don’t start,” he warned lightly. “You’re already ruining my image.”

You smiled, placing a small kiss on his cheek. “Too late.”

mercvry-glow 2025

[squipa]

got your heart in a headlock

aka soft secrets and domestic moments with jason todd

———

jason grew up in fire. all that he is and all he that knows is cigarette smoke and uncaged adrenaline. he never used to pretend to be something different, he knew what he was and he lived with that burden like he did any other. in the past, he never lied to himself, or let himself believe that maybe, just maybe, he could be something else.

something good.

enter you, you who is good and whole and endlessly kind. you with lips full of sugar, arms full of warmth, and eyes full of love. you, who was made with starlight and wonder, who never looked at him like he was a bad dog, like you were capable of being bit. you, who is light and closeness and understanding. who loves him so deeply in a way he doesn’t deserve to be loved.

so when he comes home from his world of ash and blood, he becomes someone who wears your vanilla shampoo, just because he likes to smell like you. he becomes someone who has the time to watch cheesy romcoms and lengthy youtube videos, just because he gets to hold you in his arms. he becomes someone who sleeps in a bed with eight pillows and dozens of stuffed animals, because he can listen to your soft snores all night long. in your home (which you insist is his too), he is not made of jagged, broken edges, he is not unloveable, he is not a violent dog.

he starts to believe that your love could make him something beyond bloody knuckles and restless nights.

he’s your jason, and he thinks that’s all he wants to be. even if he’s not good at showing you how much he cares. even if he has trouble accepting that your kindness and goodness don’t come with ulterior motives or strings attached. even if he can’t be the guy he thinks you deserve, he still loves being your jason. it’s his duty more than his role, he lives to see you smile, to hold you in his arms on rough nights, to kiss you senseless. because you’ve given him a strange sort of hope that makes him believe he can be more than he is.

normally, you’re not able to sneak out of bed without waking him up. vigilantes senses and whatnot make him an infuriatingly light sleeper, but today was one of those rare mornings you managed to slip from his iron grasp and get up to pee without disturbing your sleeping beauty.

you take a second to watch him, smiling softly as his chest falls rhythmically while he breathes. you don’t often get to see him so peaceful, where his body isn’t tense with the weight of the world, his eyes don’t have that worried glare. you like that, at least in his moments of unconsciousness, he doesn’t feel so unfathomably stressed when he’s with you.

you gently close the bedroom door, making sure you’re quiet enough to not let your boyfriend continue to rest. once you hear the satisfying click of the door, you move to the kitchen, wiping the sleep from your eyes.

you turn on some soft music, ensuring that the volume is low enough as not to disturb jason’s sleep, as you work, pulling the ingredients from your pantry, preheating the oven. you crack three eggs into a small bowl, humming to yourself as you go through the motions. you don’t notice jason until he slips his arms around your waist, pulling a yelp from your throat.

he breathes you in, carefully smushing his nose into your hair. he’s so warm you think, you want to live a life in those arms, big and protective and a wonderful source of heat. “tell me i didn’t wake you up.” you wince, leaning back into his chest, looking up at him. he shakes his head, yawning.

“you didn’t, ma.” he says, sleep plaguing is voice. his obvious exhaustion not stopping him from smiling down at you. “what’re’ya making?” a twinge of an accent bleeds into his voice, the jersey he doesn’t care to hide so early in the morning, a part of him you revel in getting to hear.

you smile back, looking back down and continuing your work with the ingredients in front of you. “i’m baking a pie for mrs. lewitski downstairs.” you explain. “her cat just died.” you say, a small pout pushing at your lips.

jason shakes his head, frowning softly. “poor lady. can i help?” he asks, his voice twinging with empathy. he wonders if, before he met you, he would care about such a thing. if he would be the sort of person to sympathize with something as small as a cat funeral without your guiding hand.

you know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, he would.

you nod, pointing at a cutting board and a pile of granny smiths. “cut the apples.”

he nods, pressing a kiss against the tippy-top of your head before he pulls away, a goodbye that feels like torture. “yes ma’am.” he says, carefully taking a knife out of the knife block before heading over to his station.

neither of you talk, lost in the comfort of each other’s company. jason peels and cuts the apples with expert precision, you form the dough for the crust. it’s quiet little moments like these that make up a life together.

“jay?” you ask, after giving up on rolling out the particularly tough dough. “could you give me a hand?”

he looks up from the apples, of which he’s already almost finished (damn those vigilante skills), and gives you a nod. he sets down the knife, coming up behind you, pressing himself against your back.

“of course, baby.” he whispers into your ear, his teeth lightly sinking into your cartilage, just enough to make you shiver. he gently places his arms over yours, holding his calloused hands atop yours. he moves the rolling pin slowly back and forth, putting his strength into the dough.

he pushes dough slowly, his breath hot against your neck. “like this?” he asks, once the dough gets thin enough. again, you shiver, his voice sending little waves through your spine.

“little thinner.” you say, leaning back into him.

“little thinner.” he hums, his voice a low mumble in your ear.

jason todd grew up in fire, he was born in it. but that fire makes him emit a pleasant warmth that you can’t live without. it makes his touch burn against your skin, sending electric shots through your body. it makes him the only person you’ve ever wanted to come home too, the only person you’ve ever been capable of loving, the only person you could ever love. his warmth was made for you, a cocoon of his fire you can only pray surrounds you for as long as you live.

he continues rolling, until he gets the crust rolled just right. truthfully, you extended the moment a little more than necessary, lightly instructing just a bit more, oh wait, can you make it thicker? to allow yourself to bask in the fire a second longer. you can feel a knowing smile pressing into your head, noting how he does move ever-so-slightly slower in service to you.

once he’s done, he pulls away, his hand trailing against your waist, lingering in the small of your back for a second longer than he likely should. he goes back to chopping the apples, humming with a small smile on his face. you too continue your task, making a sugar mixture to pour over the cubed granny smiths.

eventually, you both finish, and he helps you pour the apple-brown-sugar mixture into the dough-lined pie tins he helped you make. his hands are surprisingly gentle with the pasty. you didn’t realize that he was scared of ruining something as delicate and beautiful as something your hands were benevolent enough to create. but he would do whatever you asked, even if he was unsure why you would want his help. he doesn’t create, he destroys.

“can you press a fork against the edges, like this?” you ask, demonstrating how he could press both ends of the pies together. he simply nods, his fingers brushing against yours as he carefully took the silver from your hands. “i’ll check the oven.”

you pull back and open the oven, sticking your hand into the scorching air to test its temperature, earning a small frown from jason. you quickly close the door and turn back to him, moving across the kitchen. your hands slide around his waist, meeting just below his belly button. you lean up, pressing your head into the back of his neck, planting a small kiss against his spine.

“you’re good at that.” you say, watching as he works.

“yeah?” he mumbles, a soft smile on his face. he doesn’t quite believe he’s doing less harm than good, but he likes the reward he’s getting for it.

“i should make you my official pie-presser.” you respond, placing another kiss against his neck.

“i’d be honored.”

“you should be.”

“you’re making it a bit hard for me to focus, ma.” he says, shivering as you kiss him again and again, making sure to breath him in.

you smile against his skin. “i only need you to focus until we put these in the oven.” you mumble seductively, breathing hot air into his ear.

he pauses, stiff and still for an entire moment, before his shoulders drop and he returns to work like a man possessed. you squeeze yourself into him, breathing in his scent- a mix of irish spring and leather.

he only moves to put the pies in the oven, giving your arm a squeeze before he pulls away. “how long?” he asks, his fingers brushing over the keypad on the oven timer.

“twenty-five minutes.” you say, leaning back against the countertop. he presses the buttons carefully, before making his way back to you.

he smiles, not just with his mouth, but with those piercing blue eyes you can’t seem to tear yourself away from. his hair, messy from sleep, falls a bit in his face and, well, it’s your job to push it back. once he gets close enough to dip his head down, your hands are all over him, one against his forehead, smoothing his hair, and the other trailing down his arm.

“you’re my favorite helper.” you say, as he leans closer, a grin forming from the smile that had such a hold on his lips.

without warning, his hands slip on the bottoms of your thighs, and he hoists you up on the counter, eliciting a yelp from you.

“jay!” you exclaim, giggling. you spread your legs just enough to make room for him, letting him lean in, placing your arms against his shoulders. he’s wearing a shit-eating grin, but looking up at you with stars in his eyes.

“you didn’t think all that help was for free, did you?” he says, moving closer, his lips a breath away from yours. you playfully roll your eyes, but you can’t suppress the smile on your face, or the red that dusts your cheeks.

“and what exactly do i owe you?” you ask, raising a brow.

he leans in closer, his lips taking yours. for a moment, all you are is jason, all you can and ever want to be is a person that he loves. his lips crash against yours, in a perfectly soft rhythm that you two have learned to follow with each other. passion isn’t a word intense enough to describe a kiss like this, especially when compared to the loveless kisses you’ve given your past partners.

this is love.

neither of you want to pull away, but you do. something so good means eventually you’ll have to come up for air.

“y’know, we’ve got—“ jason pulls his head back, checking the oven timer. “—twenty minutes and fifty three seconds before you have to take out the pies.” he points out, his eyes darting back to yours with a mischievous sort of grin. “why not make the most of them.”

you giggle a little bit, like he’s not your jason and you haven’t been in love with him all this time. it’s ridiculous your boyfriend of a year has such an effect on you still, but here you are, a blushing mess of a woman, infatuated with the man in front of you.

“and how would you suppose we do that?” you ask, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

his grin spreads across his face, and before you can think to do more than flash your dopey smile, he pulls his hands under your ass and picks you up, holding you against him.

you yelp again, giggling as he pulls you closer. your legs wrap around his waist, and your arms meet at his middle back. he smiles up at you, pressing a chaste kiss against your smile, before moving you towards the bedroom, sucking a soft kiss against your neck.

the secret you keep from jason, only because you know he wouldn’t believe you if you dared confess it, is that he is inherently good. yes, he was forged in fire, tossed around by a universe with little care for his happiness or his safety. you’re not sure how he hasn’t realized that that’s what makes him a good man, a man who cares about cat funerals and revels in making you feel warm and loved. you know that he credits you with his goodness, that you’re the reason he loves and deserves to be love, and if he needs you to be that reason, you’ll do it proudly. but jason is good beyond you, a man with unwavering character. that’s why you love him so.

[kingkaizen]

𝓻𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓱𝓮𝓻

∘ desc: although things are going great with your boyfriend nanami, sometimes you think he's too nice in bed. who better to ask for some pointers than from nanami's opposite, gojo satoru <3

∘ ft: nanami & gojo

∘ word count: 2.7k

∘ includes: voyeurism, threesome, pussy slaps, spanking, face fucking, edging, dacryphilia, dirty talk

Nanami is the best boyfriend that you’ve ever had.

No matter everything that you’ve been through together in the last three years, nothing has ever made you doubt the amount of love you had for each other. You absolutely adored everything about him. After being friends for years before getting together, it wasn’t hard to fall so deeply in love with the man that he’s become. Being able to come home to him is everything that you’ve ever wanted and more.

But, of course, all relationships come with their issues.

When Nanami received a message from you saying that you had to talk, his heart immediately dropped. What could he have done wrong? Was today a special day that he forgot about? Did he accidentally leave the toilet seat up? What could possibly be it? He rushed home from work, unlocking the front door to see you sitting on the couch.

“Is everything okay?” Nanami questioned, slipping his shoes off and placing them neatly on the floor along with pinning his coat on the rack. “Your text worried me.”

“No, Kento. Everything is fine, I promise, come sit with me.” You gestured to the cushion next to yours, trying to keep him calm. You knew that texting him like that would elicit this concerned reaction, but what you’re about to say could not be said through a simple text message.

“Kento, when I say this to you, I need you to know that I love you so much and you are an amazing boyfriend okay?” Nanami nods his head slightly, eyebrows slowly coming together in complete anticipation of what’s about to come out of your mouth.

“I want you to start being rougher with me in bed.”

Finally coming out and saying it, you felt like a weight being lifted off of your chest. Nanami always treats you like glass, in and out of the bedroom. Although you love how gentle and loving he is with you, you need something more. You can’t help but think back to all of the times that he would come back home from work, irritated about something that happened. How good it would feel for him to take out those emotions on you. But, knowing your sweet boyfriend, that thought would never cross his mind. 

“Am I not satisfying you enough? I thought you enjoyed our intimate moments together…” Nanami responds, his brain thinking back to every single night you’ve spent together in the past. Why hasn’t he seen this before? Knowing that he hasn’t been satisfying you in the way that he thought hurt him much more than he was willing to admit right away.

“No, that’s not it at all. You know that you always make me feel good. I just want to change things up a bit, that’s all.” You placed an encouraging hand on his thigh, prompting him to look up at you. “I know you, Kento, don’t think too much into it. I love every moment that we have together, I just want us to try something different, that’s all.”

Nanami took in all of your words, making a pact to himself that he will change things for the better. He understands what you want, he’s just not sure how to fully give that to you. How he is in bed is exactly the way he is outside of that: sweet, loving, and overall just concerned. He would never forgive himself for hurting you in any capacity, so living up to your request will be a challenge for him. Who better to ask than his complete opposite in every single way?

“She wants you, Nanami Kento, to be rough?” Gojo almost can’t help but laugh at the thought. It’s not laughable because Nanami doesn’t have a rough side to him, Gojo of all people would know how it feels to be on the opposite end of that. The funny part is that he can’t imagine him being rough towards you. Even from an outsider looking into your relationship, anyone could see how he treats you.

“I didn’t tell you this so that you could laugh at me, Satoru, I’m asking for your help.” This request from Nanami also humored Gojo. Finally, after all of these years, Nanami is actually voluntarily asking for his help.

“How exactly do you expect me to help you? Do you need me to demonstrate?” Gojo laughed as he said this, waiting for Nanami to show some sort of disagreement in his face.

That look never came.

“That is actually exactly what I want you to do. I know the type of history that you two have, I’m not an idiot. All of these years since we’ve all been friends before we started dating, I would see the way you would look at each other. I know that there is chemistry there and I wouldn’t be surprised if you have been intimate before.” Nanami looked at Gojo, seriousness etched across his face. “I want you to show me how to treat her the way that she wants to be, I only want her to be happy.” As much as Nanami hates to admit when Gojo is better than him in any sort of way, he knows the truth when it comes to this. He sees how other women have fawned over him, and it must be for good reason.

“I’ll teach you how to fuck her like a slut.”

The sight of two shirtless men is enough to excite anyone. After telling Nanami what was on your mind, this is the last thing that you expected him to do. Of course he brought this up to you before this moment, always wanting to ensure your comfort. It was hard to disagree, you’ve been with Gojo years prior but it was never anything serious. Always flings, Gojo was never the “relationship type”. 

“So gorgeous, my love.” Nanami always admired how ethereal you looked, both in and out the bedroom. He caressed your face, planting soft yet firm kisses on your lips, growing more and more passionate by the second. Gojo was sitting on the chair in the corner of the room, watching with an intense gaze. You would think that having another man watching the two of you would freak you out, but it weirdly turned you on. Gently, as always, Nanami laid you down on the mattress, fingers finding their way to your covered breasts, exposing them to his hungry mouth. After moving the fabric, his lips puckered around your nipple, tongue pushing on the hardened nub as you ran your fingers through his hair.

“Kento, I need you so bad.” You whimpered, the impatient side of you coming out already. You know Nanami, you know that it doesn’t take much begging to get what you want. You know how bad he wants you too, he can’t help but fully oblige to every word you say.

“I know honey, I’m going to give it to you.” Nanami had no self control when it came to you. Gojo rolls his eyes in the corner, finally making his presence known.

“Nanami, you can’t let her talk to you like that.” Gojo slowly began to touch his growing bulge through his pants. “It’s like you already forgot everything I told you.” He stood up and walked towards the two of you, Nanami moving to the side. Gojo gently gripped your chin, turning your head to look him dead in his eyes.

“If you want something from him, you’re going to have to earn it.”

You nodded your head, his authoritative tone sending a wave of pleasure throughout your body. Following his discrete directions, you kneeled in front of your boyfriend, fingers playfully toying with the zipper in his pants as you pulled it down along with the rest of it. You kissed his hard length through the last piece of fabric still left on his body, looking up at him through your lashes.

“D-Don’t tease me like that, (y/n)”. Nanami loved this obedient side of you, even if he wasn’t the reason you were acting this way. Before he could even process, Gojo lightly tapped the side of your ass, sending a slight sting throughout your body.

“Tease him like that again and you’re gonna have to make yourself cum. Now say sorry.” Gojo threatened, backing away once again to see how this unfolds. By now, he has fully released himself from the confines of his pants, fingers wrapping around his girth as he slowly began to pleasure himself at the sight.

“I’m sorry.” You looked up at Nanami once more, pulling away the last piece of clothing separating your awaiting mouth from his leaking tip. 

“I’m sorry what?” Gojo sneered.

“I’m sorry sir.” Your pleading voice made Nanami groan, watching as you finally began to wrap your lips around the tip of his cock. You began to put your tongue to work, swirling it around his head while keeping your lips firmly around the top, sucking in. Nanami could tell that you were still in a teasing mood, refusing to go any lower than that. Suddenly, you could feel his hand find its way to the back of your head, forcing you to let more of him in. Nanami would never do something like this normally, his forcefulness with you turning you on tremendously. Gojo laughed, approving of Nanami’s sudden confidence boost. It’s arousing to him too, watching you take all of him so deep in your mouth, gagging on his length as he throws his head back.

“That’s it, take it all.” Nanami grunts, “I love how messy you look, choking on me like that.” He could feel you moan around his length at his words, thighs rubbing together in anticipation of what’s to come. “I know how wet you are already, if you want some help you have to ask for it okay?” 

No matter what, Nanami is still always keeping your needs in mind, noticing how soaked you're starting to become. He removes himself from inside your mouth, allowing you to fully breathe. You look so beautiful, tears threatening to spill from your lash line and saliva coating around your mouth. He helps you back up to your feet, leading your body to lay backwards onto the bed, callused fingers catching any tears that manage to slip. “Tell me what you want.”

Your gaze moved from his eyes over to Gojo. “I want you both. Please sir, just touch me.” You felt pathetic as you begged, your core pulsing with need. You’ve never felt this sensitive before, everything feeling that much more intense given how hungry the two men in your presence are. 

“Aww, what a little slut you are.” Gojo grinned, making his way closer to you. “What do you think Nanami, has she been a good girl for us? Should we give her what she wants?” Gojo’s fingers began to rub on the outside of your panties. “Look at how wet she is for us.” Gojo showed Nanami your slick on his fingers, watching it glisten underneath the lowlight. 

“I think she has been a good girl.” Nanami smiles at you, so proud of how well you’ve been doing for them. “Go ahead, Gojo, you can touch her.”

“Finally.” Gojo quickly moved your panties to the side, the coolness of his touch catching you off guard as he teased the inside of your folds. “You don’t understand how torturous it was watching you without being able to touch you yet.” He makes quick work of finding your clit, slowly rubbing his thumb on your pearl as he watches you begin to writhe underneath. “Don’t forget why you’re here slut. You wanted to be treated like this so bad and now you got it. Beg for it.”

“P-Please Satoru, please touch me. I can’t take it anymore, I need it so bad.” You pleaded, beginning to feel helpless underneath him. Gojo smirked, plunging his slender fingers inside of you unexpectedly. You felt your body arch up in surprise, a gasp leaving your mouth as pleasure began to consume your body.

“So fucking greedy.” Gojo began slowly at first, catching a rhythm. “Look at how she’s drenching my fingers.” Nanami rubs himself at the sight, growing impatient. You’re too far gone to notice, feeling your own orgasm already beginning to slowly creep up in intensity. Before you know it, you're cumming all around his fingers, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Gojo quickly pulls his fingers out, not doing anything to help you ride it out. “Who told you that you could cum?” He taps his hand against your pussy repeatedly, watching you moan in a mix of pleasure and pain and you slowly come down from your high. “What a fucking whore.”

“I’m sorry sir, I couldn’t -fuck- I couldn’t help it.” You sob, looking at Nanami. You’ve never seen him look so angry. He didn’t say anything to you, only twirling his finger around, motioning for you to flip over. You quickly follow his que, not wanting to do anything to tick him off further. You can’t fully process that this is happening, your Nanami actually treating you this way.

You fucking loved it.

You felt his familiar touch rub over your ass as you got on all fours, arching your back slightly. He groaned at the sight of your wetness, glistening core almost calling out to him. He rubbed his tip against your folds, feeling your hole try to suck him in. Meanwhile, Gojo is sucking your juice off of his fingers, loving the taste of you.

“Get on with it Nanami, if she wants to be punished so badly then so be it.” Gojo made his way in front of you, rubbing the tip of his cock against your plush lips. “We told you what would happen if you didn’t listen, right? You have to be a bit smarter than that sweetheart.” The syrupy tone of his voice didn’t match his actions as he parted your lips with his head, feeling you wrap your lips against his girth. With that, Nanami finally pushed himself all the way in, moaning in unison along with you. Gojo could feel the vibrations of your moans against him.

Nanami gave you no time to adjust, pounding his entire length into you with such force that caused your mouth to hang open in shock. You felt so good, brain completely fogged over with no thoughts other than the complete monster that Nanami has become. He’s never fucked you like this, usually preferring soft thrusts over the hard pounding that he’s subjecting yourself to now. You suddenly felt a sharp slap on your ass, his large hand rubbing the sting away almost just as quickly as he placed it.

“Don’t ignore Gojo now, honey. I thought a slut like you would love to have two thick cocks filling you up this way?” Nanami questioned, picking up the pace which made it so much harder for you to focus. Gojo wasn’t having that. He placed one hand on each side of your face, holding it in place for him to thrust his hips against you. His cock filled your mouth, spit sloshing everywhere as your face got messier and messier.

“Fuck (y/n), you’re doing so fucking good for us princess.” Gojo moaned, the sounds coming from the room overwhelmed his senses. The bed creaking, you struggling to take Nanami while also pleasuring Gojo, and the sound of Nanami’s balls slapping against your ass sounded like music to his ears. Nanami couldn’t believe how hot this all was, feeling as your walls began to quiver around him.

“You’re gonna cum again baby?” Nanami asked, gripping your hips tighter as he felt himself get even closer. Gojo was already almost there, hips beginning to stutter as he watched you cry out. All you could do is whimper in response, the knot in your stomach growing tighter and tighter. Nanami made it there first, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he spilled himself inside of you. Ropes of cum flooded in as he fully pressed himself against you, beads of sweat threatening to drip off his nose. Gojo soon followed, shooting his load into your mouth as you took it all.

“Such a good girl.” Gojo mused, wiping the side of your mouth when he finished. He proceeded to kiss you, tasting himself on your tongue. Nanami pulled himself out slowly, watching in delight as his seed slowly dripped out of you. You whimpered at the now empty feeling, your orgasm slowly starting to retreat.

“You’re not going to finish me off?” You angrily turned to Nanami, watching the smirk begin to creep up his face.

“Not unless you beg for it.”

© kingkaizen | do not copy, steal, or duplicate!

[deprivedreality]

𝗪𝗲 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗻𝗼 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝗯𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝗻 𝗞𝗮𝘁𝘀𝘂𝗸𝗶 𝗕𝗮𝗸𝘂𝗴𝗼!! 𝙚𝙭𝙘𝙚𝙥𝙩 𝙢𝙖𝙮𝙗𝙚 𝙆𝙖𝙩𝙨𝙪𝙠𝙞 𝘽𝙖𝙠𝙪𝙜𝙤 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙜𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙨

Word Count: i don't know

Content: katsuki bakugo with glasses isn't an office siren, he's more of an attractive dwight schrute imo. gender neutral reader. drabble. fluff. i just saw these pictures on pinterest and I watched myself cook.

Katsuki Bakugo rubbed his temples as he squinted at the whiteboard in the training room. The writing blurred together, a hazy mess that made his already limited patience dwindle faster than usual. His vision had been weird ever since that run-in with a villain wielding a blinding quirk during his internship with Best Jeanist. The doctor had said his sight would recover in a few weeks, but the lingering effects were starting to piss him off real bad.

“Bakugo, you okay?”

Your voice pulled him from his thoughts. You were sitting beside him, your head tilted slightly as you observed his uncharacteristic struggle.

He's been rubbing and rubbing his eyes that you're worried they'd pop off any moment now. Damn, he can't even focus on his notes of fucking course cause he can't read it with the stupid combination of fucking astigmatism, myopia and glaucoma.

“I’m fine,” he grumbled, averting his gaze.

You weren’t convinced and, of course, you were concerned. “Doesn’t look like it. You’ve been squinting at everything for the past few days. Maybe you should get your eyes checked again.”

“Tch, I don’t need a damn checkup,” he snapped, but his annoyance lacked its usual bite. You frowned.

“Come on,” you said, standing and grabbing his arm. “What’s the harm in getting it checked? If there’s nothing wrong, great. If there is, we’ll figure it out.”

He sighed, realizing you wouldn’t let this go. “Fine. But if this is a waste of time, I’m blaming you.”

It's a good thing you two were still in school grounds, it means Recovery Girl is no more than a few halls away from where you and bakugo were studying at.

The clinic was quiet when you arrived, and Recovery Girl was quick to examine Bakugo’s eyes. After a series of tests, the diagnosis was clear: his vision was still recovering, but for the time being, he needed glasses to help him see more clearly.

Bakugo’s expression was a mix of annoyance and disbelief. “Glasses? Seriously?”

“It’s just temporary,” Recovery Girl assured him. She then walked towards a closet in the far back and whipped out what seemed to be nerd glasses. “Here, try these.”

The doctor handed Bakugo a pair of black-rimmed glasses. He put them on reluctantly, and you had to stifle a laugh when you saw the way his eyes looked magnified through the lenses.

“What’s so damn funny?” he snapped, narrowing his newly enlarged eyes at you.

You couldn’t hold it in anymore and burst out laughing. “I’m sorry, but—oh my god, Katsuki! You look like a cartoon character!”

He scowled, but there was a faint pink tint to his cheeks. Despite his irritation, there was something oddly satisfying about seeing you laugh like that.

"I'd put a bow on that glasses if you'd let me! All you need now are beaver teeth and you'll be a certified goof ball!" You laughed, basically breathless. Even Recovery Girl couldn't help but stiffle a laugh.

“Shut the hell up,” he muttered, taking the prescription and storming out, but not before glancing back to catch you still grinning.

The next day, Bakugo walked into class wearing his new glasses. The room went silent for about three seconds before the laughter began. Even Todoroki and Tokoyami couldn't help their grin, their lips twitched in amusement.

“Bakugo!” Kaminari wheezed, clutching his sides. “You look like a scientist!”

"Whoah! Bakubro! I feel like I'm in a 3D movie with those lenses!" Kirishima added, laughing even harder than Kaminari.

"Heavens, Bakugo, Is that magnifying glass? Or are you just that eager to start class?" Even Iida couldn't help himself and added to the chaos. Bakugo was starting to erupt.

“I bet he can spot a typo on a billboard from a mile away with those,” Mina chimed in, tears of laughter streaming down her face.

"I bet he's craving bananas!" Mineta boomed. Unlucky for him, he was within Bakugo's range and got his ahh exploded.

“Shut the hell up!” Bakugo roared, his hands sparking ominously.

But his outburst only made them laugh harder.

You, sitting at your desk, couldn’t stop giggling either. You already had the laugh of your life when you saw him wear it for the first time, now you had the chance to actually examine him with glasses. “I think he looks cute,” you said loud enough for him to hear, still smiling.

Bakugo froze but his hands were still in the middle of choking Kaminari and Mineta, his glare snapping to you. “What? You didn't think it was yesterday,”

“It is cute though. Now that I stare at you more," you repeated, a teasing lilt in your voice. “The glasses suit you.”

He blinked, momentarily thrown off by your words. The classroom fell silent, everyone holding their breath to see how he’d react.

“Hypocrite,” he muttered, finally settling, sitting down and turning his attention to his notes. But you didn’t miss the way his ears turned red, or the way he didn’t try to blast anyone after that.

I think he looks cute! The glasses suits you... now that I stare at you more. I think he looks cute! It's cute though. I think he looks cute! Chanted at the back of his mind over and over. SHUT UP!

The next day, Bakugo showed up to class without his glasses. The change was immediate—everyone noticed, but no one dared comment on it. His glare alone was enough to keep them quiet.

During lunch, you slid into the seat next to him. “Eee? No glasses today?”

“Wearing contacts,” he replied curtly, poking at his food.

“Why? The glasses were cute,” you said, resting your chin in your hand as your gaze sauntered off.

He gave you a side-eye glance, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly when you weren't looking at him. “Yeah, well, I’m not here to entertain you idiots.”

You pouted dramatically. “I liked the glasses. I thought for sure you'd wear them until you get better. I never thought you'd like contacts. Are you ever gonna wear them again?”

He shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” you repeated, narrowing your eyes. “That’s not good enough, Bakugo.”

“Tch,” he muttered, pushing his tray aside. “I’ll wear ’em during our study sessions, alright? Happy now?”

You blinked, caught off guard by his casual mention of your study time together. But you smiles nevertheless. “Oh. Yeah, that works! Lemme decorate it!”

“The damn glasses are not mine, idiot. But whatever,” He stood abruptly, leaving you alone at the table, your cheeks warm and your heart racing.

True to his word, Bakugo showed up to your next study session wearing his glasses. You couldn’t help but smile as he sat down across from you, his usual scowl softened by the frames perched on his nose.

“You know,” you said, flipping through your notes, “I think I like you better with glasses. You looked extra goofy cute.”

He snorted, leaning back in his chair. “Yeah? Well, don’t get used to it. I’m ditching these things the second my eyes are back to normal.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the fondness in your smile. “Whatever you say, Bakugo.”

For the rest of the session, the two of you worked in comfortable silence, broken only by your occasional teasing and his gruff responses. At one point, you scribbled a tiny pink bow to which you cut out and Bakugo actually agreed with your request to put it temporarily on it. And though he’d never admit it out loud, Katsuki Bakugo didn’t mind the glasses so much when it meant he got to see you smile like that.

ᓚᘏᗢ @deprivedreality 2024 | all rights reserved.

[puck-luck]

thinking about reader who gives a hell of a lot of hickeys during sex, especially on Quinn's inner thighs and his neck/chest...

there would be sooo many, and Quinn would be at the rink the next day getting changed for practice and all his teammates are just like "what?? the fuck???" and joking ab how Quinn has a vampire for a gf LMAO

anyways :)

warnings: lotsss of hickeys, cockwarming, quinn coming inside fem!reader (DAMN y'all tryna get PREGNANT or something??????), mentions of oral (f receiving), mentions of shower sex, implications that quinn and reader don't mind their sex life being a little public... pairing: quinn hughes x fem!reader request: duhhhh see up above? wc: 1099

You’ve been feeling extra needy lately. Quinn blames it on preseason starting so soon, indulging you with a little smile on his face. He knows that in just a few days, he’s going to have his first practice back with the team, and then things will kick into full gear. He won’t have all the time in the world to lay around with you, so in his own way, Quinn is treating himself by indulging you.

And it is a treat, because if he hadn’t indulged you, he wouldn’t have the weight of you on his lap. You wouldn’t be grinding against his growing cock in languorous motions as you suck a hickey onto his jaw. His hands wouldn’t be on your hips, helping guide your motions. It feels so right that Quinn can hardly imagine leaving you for a few hours– not when things like this are happening.

“Q,” you mumble into his neck, lathering a kiss over the red mark you just made.

“Hm?” Quinn replies, opening his eyes just enough to take you in when you pull away. 

“Can I sit on your cock?” You ask, blissfully innocent. 

Quinn almost dies of a heart attack then and there. It’s written all in your voice– all you want to do is sit on his cock, have him inside of you, keep him warm. You just want to be close, and who is Quinn to deny you?

“Yeah, baby,” Quinn agrees. “Just let me get out of these shorts, yeah?”

You nod and swing your leg around so you’re tucked into his side. As Quinn lifts his hips to discard his clothes and reveal his length, you lean into his chest and press a kiss over his heart. Tilting your head up a little more, you kiss over his neckline and take some of his skin into your mouth, biting softly. You leave another mark on his chest, to match the one on his jaw.

Once his cock is free from his clothes, Quinn wraps his hand around it and pumps himself slowly. It jerks in his hand when you move your mouth to the column of his neck, petting over his stomach. He makes a soft little noise as you suck.

You pull away and admire your handiwork, tilting your head and smiling at the bruise with hooded eyes. You clamber back onto Quinn’s lap, pulling your panties to the side, and sink down. Your eyes roll back as the bulbous head of his cock sinks into you, past your entrance and settling deep in your core.

Quinn lets out a long breath as you lower yourself, eyes trained on your face through his eyelashes. You’re above him, but when you’re finally seated again, your lips are just in front of Quinn’s. He can’t help but lean in and capture them, not when they’re looking so pink and plush from marking him up.

“You look pretty,” Quinn tells you, smiling like a dope.

“Mmm,” you tease, giggling a little. “You said the same thing when I had to pick you and your brothers up last week because you got too drunk.”

You reach up and trace a finger over Quinn’s nose, biting your lip to hold in a laugh when he nips at the digit and pulls your hips forward, rocking you a little bit. He fills you to the brim, pressing into you in a satisfying way that no other man has. Quinn’s it for you.

“You’re sweet,” you concede, leaning in to kiss Quinn again. 

When you part, he breathes in deeply and leans his head back on the couch, still holding your hips tightly. 

You reassume your earlier position, kissing down his neck and marking him until his skin is littered with little bruises of varying shades of red and purple. Some are sizeable, like the one on the side of his neck where his pulse raced under your tongue and you couldn’t help but dive in for more, desperate to feel him throbbing beneath you. Other hickeys are smaller, just a pinch of a mark, like the heart you artfully sucked onto his pec. 

When you’re done, you start to rock back and forth on his cock, your hands pressing against his chest for leverage. Quinn’s eyes practically fly open, a wounded groan leaving him as he flexes his muscles involuntarily. 

“I made you mine,” you tell Quinn in a low voice. “Now, you’ve got to make me yours.”

Quinn keens at that, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close. His hips stutter up into you, finding an aborted rhythm because he doesn’t want to draw himself out of your heat. He needs to feel all of you, and needs for you to feel all of him. Quinn buries his face in your neck and your hands find his hair, cradling the strands and keeping him close to you.

Quinn’s other hand finds its way to your ass for leverage, grabbing the skin and kneading it with desperation. He’ll leave his own fingerprint-shaped bruises there from the force of it, and he’ll admire his marks in the shower later, when he convinces you to let him eat you out from behind. 

He whimpers when his orgasm hits, filling you with his warmth until his cock is overstimulated and spent. You kiss him, soft and slow, swallowing the groans that leave his lips.

“You’re perfect,” Quinn praises, chest rising and falling in even breaths. He continues to stare up at you like he’s kneeling at an altar. 

You smile down and push his hair out of his face, leaning in to pepper kisses over every inch of his face. He laughs and eventually pushes you away, pulling out and standing to grab a towel to clean you up. 

You cuddle on the couch for a while after, legs thrown over Quinn’s lap and head tucked against his chest. 

Three days later, when Quinn arrives to practice, the bruises still haven’t faded completely into his skin. He grins down at the little heart made of hickeys on his chest, catching his final glimpse of your marks before he pulls his pads on and prepares for practice. 

“Jesus, fuck,” Petey says from the stall next to Quinn. “Is your girlfriend secretly a vampire?”

Quinn grins at him, impish. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” He sticks his tongue out at Petey like a bragging sibling, then turns back to his locker. He smiles to himself.

You’re getting your nails done right now, and he’ll have the marks on his back to show it tomorrow.

notes: hi quinn hughes i miss u and also what r the odds u and i could recreate this fic at a future date, be honest

[dykeforhire]

The Neighbor

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader

Emily Prentiss has a new neighbor… unbeknownst to her, they can see directly into her bedroom from their window…

Warnings: smut, voyeurism (slight stalking if you think about it)

Word count: 9k (SORRY I GOT CARRIED AWAY)

Available on ao3

Masterlist

Taglist: @chestnutninny @maximoffwitch

Placing the last of the moving box contents on the shelf in your living room, you let out a sigh. It had been a stressful week.

Moving into a new apartment, in a new city, and starting a new job was not for the weak of heart. You cut the taped seams of the box, folded it up, and placed it in a neat pile with the other disregarded cardboard slabs.

Trudging into your shiny kitchen, you reached for the fresh bottle of wine on the counter and cracked it open. Pouring yourself a decent helping of the flaxen liquid before plopping onto the couch. With another sigh, you stretched over to the side table and picked up the TV remote. Flipping through Netflix for a while before deciding on a true crime series. You settled in against the couch cushion and pressed play.

The sun had just begun to set and the open blinds were letting an orange tint fall over the carpet in streaks. You had to admit this apartment was much nicer than any you’ve had before. Only thanks to your new job, of course.

Before you knew it, the series credits were rolling and the apartment was overtaken by the cover of night, the only illumination in the room being your TV and a small candle on the counter.

You got off the couch and made your way towards the bedroom, grabbing a pair of loose boxers, and a t-shirt from the dresser, throwing your hair up into a knot before heading into the bathroom for a much-needed shower. The feeling of near-scalding water was an instant relief to your strained muscles, all the heavy lifting you’ve done the past few days causing quite a tension in your back.

Once you were out of the shower and feeling refreshed, you applied your usual skincare regime, then slathered your body in its entirety with your favorite lotion. You pulled the tie from your hair and shook it out, attempting to tame the mess it had made of itself.

Once satisfied, you sauntered back out to the living room. Blowing out the candle that was still burning and crossed the room, sights set on closing the blinds for the night.

But once you reached the large floor-to-ceiling window, something else beyond caught your eye.

The building you had moved into was built in a sort of ‘U’ shape. Your apartment, being on the inner side of the building, gave you a direct view of the small courtyard below. It also gave you a direct view of the neighboring apartments on the other side of the courtyard.

The yard itself couldn’t be more than 50 feet across, and that just so happened to be the perfect distance to gaze directly into your neighbor's window.

You gripped the pull chord, but your breath caught in your throat upon realizing what you were looking at.

It was a woman, tall and svelte. And from what you could see, insanely beautiful. Her long, dark silver hair shone in the luminance from the bedside lamp she had just switched on. She was almost fully nude, aside from the black panties and bralette adorning her ample bosom.

Looking a bit past her, you noticed another figure come into view.

It was, or at least you thought it was, an older gentleman. But when they pulled their shirt off, you were met with a surprising pair of breasts.

An elder butch?? Nice. You shook away the subconscious thought.

You continued watching as the pair latched onto each other, the taller woman running her long fingers through the short locks of the latter while their lips locked with a fiery passion. They fell onto the mattress, femme straddling the butch’s lap.

You felt a pang deep in your belly, knocking you back into reality.

A rush of guilt ran over you as you turned away from the window, averting your gaze from the vulgar scene. You had never been into the act of voyeurism before, especially in this capacity.

But something was stirring within you at the thought of watching more. Another pang hitting your core at the thought of watching your beautiful neighbor take her partner’s fingers in earnest.

Against your better judgment, you looked through the blinds again. Biting your lip you took in the scene once more.

The femme had begun kissing down her partner's chest, the muscles in her back bending and flexing beneath the skin.

An unforeseen moan left your throat as the woman took a nipple into her mouth. Your hand shot up to your mouth in surprise but soon began tracing the skin of it as you became enamored by the view.

The woman had been flipped over and was now on the receiving end of her partner’s ministrations. A thick hand covers the woman’s clothed center, her head rolling backward as she ground into her partner's palm.

You couldn’t help but reach down and press against your own underwear. The fabric, already damp with the heat and intensity of your arousal. Pushing the leg-band to the side, you ran a finger through your slit. A bit astonished by the amount of arousal that has accumulated.

You continued watching as your neighbor’s actions grew more lewd by the minute. Tongues against mouth and skin, fingers touching in areas you never should have seen. But still, you couldn’t peel yourself away from the window.

That is until the long-haired woman fell backward, her head nearly hanging off the end of the bed as the other woman began dragging her tongue down her torso and towards her center. Her eyes seemed to look directly at you as she gasped at the contact of her lover's tongue.

Your stomach immediately dropped and you jumped away from the window, pulling your hand out from your boxers. The embarrassment and guilt began filling your cheeks with a hot flush.

You waited a moment before peeking out the window again, making sure you were in the clear to exit. To your surprise, her curtains had been shut. You felt slightly disappointed, but the overwhelming concern for your sanity soon sealed that.

Shaking the thoughts from your head, you went back to the bathroom to clean yourself up before flopping into your bed and letting sleep slowly consume you.

…

Over the next few days, you had been hyper-aware of your surroundings whilst leaving the building for work. You were petrified by the thought of running into the beautiful woman who’d inevitably caught you watching her personal affairs through the window.

Luckily enough, the past week has been very successful.

You hadn’t seen her at all, not even through the window, and you were hoping that you never would.

But today you weren’t so lucky.

It had been a stressful day at the office, and all you wanted was to relax in your apartment. You’d ordered some Chinese takeout and had gone down to the foyer to retrieve it.

Just as you were about to pay the man, a flash of metallic hair came through the entrance.

Your heart nearly dropped out of your ass as you made eye contact with the silver fox. Her deep brown irises practically melt you into a pile of nothing.

What made it even worse was the stupid smirk she wore as she held your gaze while walking past. The scent of her musky perfume and cigarettes trailing close behind.

She was taller than you thought she’d be, just a few inches more than you, also taking into account the heeled boots she wore. She was dressed in a blood-red silk blouse, black wide-legged trousers, and a matching blazer that hung in the bend of her elbow.

“Ma’am?” The delivery driver interrupted.

“I- sorry… here...” You handed him a twenty and turned around to head reluctantly towards the elevator.

You hoped that you wouldn’t be stuck in there with her, but of course, as you rounded the corner… her hand flung out and stopped the closing door, holding it open for you.

You sighed, wishing that some greater force would just take you out right then and there.

“Thanks…” you spoke sheepishly, avoiding her eyes as she smiled at you. You reached past her to press your floor number but quickly realized she lived on the same floor.

“Same floor, huh?” She questioned, her voice husky. You felt a tickle in your belly at the tone.

“Seems like it, aha…” You replied, still avoiding her gaze and leaning against the wall.

She mirrored your position on the opposite side. You could feel her eyes on you and it made your anxiety skyrocket, but it also made you feel some other type of way.

I wonder if she actually knows it was me… or is it just my brain playing tricks on me? You thought to yourself.

“That smells good. Whatcha get?” She asks, and you finally manage to look up at her. Her eyes were already locked on you as she chewed her gum with a smile.

“Oh, just some chicken and lo mein.” You gave her a tight smile then bit your bottom lip. She only hummed in response, but you caught how her eyes fell to your mouth at the action. You couldn’t help but blush and subsequently dip your head in avoidance of her gaze once again.

“How come I haven’t seen you around here before?” Her tone was a bit softer now, questioning.

“I moved in just over a week ago, actually… so I haven’t had much time for things other than unpacking and work.” you swung the take-out bag back and forth idly, trying to distract yourself from the inappropriate memories of the woman attempting to resurface.

“I see, how’s unpacking coming?” The bell signifying that you’ve reached the floor chimed.

“It’s coming... Work keeps me busier than I’d like to be.” You chuckled halfheartedly to yourself, stepping through the elevator doors and pausing to wait for her, nervously.

“I completely understand… Well, if you ever need help with that or anything else I’m in 63B… or...” She smirks, pulling a card from her purse and passing it to you. “Here’s my contact info.”

You hesitantly reached out to take it, somewhat dumbfounded that she had her very own business cards. Upon inspecting it further, you noticed something even more intimidating.

“Huh, I would not have pegged you as FBI… Emily Prentiss?” you looked up at her, quirking a brow.

“There are a lot of things you wouldn’t peg about me…” She quipped, tilting her head in question to signify you give her your name as well.

“Y/n, Y/n Y/l/n.” you answered, smiling softly.

“Well it was lovely to meet you Y/n, although I must get going.. wouldn’t want you to be eating cold food, right?” She chuckled, and you blushed at her kind comment.

“Nice to meet you as well. Have a good night!” You smiled, giving her a shy wave before starting towards the direction of your apartment.

“You too, hon… Oh, and Y/n?” you spun around at the call of your name. “Next time you wanna watch… just give me a call.” she waved her finger at the card that was still in your hand and smiled devilishly.

You stood there, watching, mouth agape in shock as she spun around laughing, and began striding towards her apartment.

My god, this woman will be the death of me.

…

After finally managing to calm yourself down enough to eat without choking, you figured a little binge-watching on the couch with a bowl of ice cream would make for a wonderful end to your rather eventful night.

Curled up against a throw pillow, with a chilled bowl of your favorite Ben & Jerry’s on your blanket-covered lap, you pressed play on your most recently watched series.

Once the bowl was finished and long forgotten on the side table, you scooted over the cushions to lay down and pull the blanket over your shoulders. Your eyes eventually grew heavy, blinking slower and slower, inevitably letting the angels of slumber take you under.

Until, of course, the phone buzzed loudly on the pillow next to you. You groaned, reaching for it and squinting at the brightness of the screen.

Unknown number?

With a slightly confused expression, you unlocked the phone and opened the message.

“Hey stranger… open your blinds.”

Uh oh.

Somehow, you were now more awake than you had been all day. Sitting up, you began typing with shaky hands.

“How did you get my number?”

“Did you forget my line of work already, baby?” a shudder ran through you at the pet name.

“So I see… and what if I don’t?” The courage you had over text was almost laughable in comparison to what you had felt in the elevator.

“Just do it.” The excitement thrumming inside your chest threatened to burst at the demand.

That being said, you stood up and padded over to the window. Grabbing the lift chord between your thumb and index, you took a deep breath before quickly pulling it.

Upon raising your eyes to her apartment, you let out a gasp. There she was, Emily Prentiss in all her magnificent glory.

She had pulled a chair over to the window and was sitting cross-legged, draped in a silk robe. A similar shade as the blouse she had on earlier that day. Her silver hair cascaded past her shoulders, framing her face in a seductive shadow. And even with the distance between windows, you could tell she was wearing that devious smirk.

You watched as her gaze fell towards the phone in her lap, she picked it up and began typing.

“Do you like what you see, Y/n?”

“Yes.” you let out a shaky breath as you looked back out the window.

She placed the phone on the table next to the chair and placed her hands in her lap. She began pulling at the ties of her robe, letting them fall to the side.

You felt your heart skip a beat and your breath catch in your throat at the sight.

Her slender fingers trailed over the folded neckline, before dipping beneath and pulling it open, bringing the black lace teddy she wore underneath into view.

You thought you might drop dead at that very moment. The oversized T-shirt and sleep shorts you had on were a bit embarrassing in contrast. But alas, you were too engrossed in Emily’s teasing to care all that much.

Her hands ran down the length of her torso and down to her toned thighs, slowly spreading them apart. Your knees felt weak, and your palms sweaty. You wanted nothing more than to spread those legs with your own hands, letting yourself fall in between them to taste her.

A flush spread through you at the thought, chest and cheeks growing rosey.

She raised her left hand, running through her hair and flipping it to one side. The latter continued its journey back up her torso, toying with the bits of lace at the edge of her top.

With a slackened jaw, you stepped backward and sat on the edge of the couch, mirroring her position. And with a burst of courage, you picked up the phone again, hesitating a bit before finally deciding to press the call button.

It only rang once before the older woman answered.

“Mm.. that was bold.” She purred, her eyes aimed directly at you through the window.

“I wanna hear you...” Your voice was soft and breathy, the arousal seeping into your ability to control it.

“Hear me what?” She quirked a brow.

“I want to hear it when you touch yourself.”

“Oh, you do? And what makes you think I’m gonna touch myself?” Her tone was condescending, but you watched as she scooted forward in the seat, leaning back against the chair.

“I’ll do it if you do.” Your breathing was slightly labored, the excitement in your chest causing a chill to run through your body.

“Hmm, that does sound like a good deal…” she paused for a moment, seemingly in thought. “Take off that shirt for me, Angel.” She whispered seductively into the microphone.

You whimpered, your sex ache with desire and begging for some sort of relief.

“Yes ma’am.” You quickly placed the phone on the arm of the couch and began pulling the large shirt over your head, tossing it behind you carelessly. Emily hummed in response to your eagerness.

“So eager to please… I love it.” Her voice is like velvet in your ears, pulling another soft noise from your throat. You sat with attention, hands placed patiently in your lap, awaiting further instruction.

“Play with your nipples for me, baby. Nice and slow.”

Without hesitation you brought your fingers to your mouth, wetting the tips with a swipe of your tongue, then dragging them over an already stiffened bud. You pulled your bottom lip into your mouth, holding back the noises threatening to escape.

“Good girl… so pretty, on display for everyone to see, but so needy for me.” Her eyes blackened as they watched you touch yourself. You couldn’t hold back the soft groan as you pinched your nipple, pulling it lightly before switching to the other side and doing the same.

Emily let out a soft moan, her free hand began to trail down her torso again. She squeezed at her own thighs, spreading them open further.

“Can I see yours, too?” You sounded almost innocent in asking, but the way you burned and ached for her was nowhere near it.

“Say please.”

“Please… let me see you, Emily.” Your voice came out almost like a whine. She smiled, pressing the speaker button on the phone before placing it back on the side table.

You watched as she shrugged the silk robe off and brought her nimble fingers up to the straps of her teddy, looping around the fabric and slowly tugging them down.

You were practically panting like a dog as she revealed the freckled flesh at an agonizing pace.

Once the hem was low enough, her breasts fell out of the cups with ease. Dusky nipples on full display and standing proudly.

You bite your lip to stifle the scream of excitement you so badly want to release.

Emily chuckles softly, bringing her hands up to squeeze at the heavy flesh of her breasts. She throws her chin up and smiles brightly.

“Jesus, Emily…” you sigh, running a hand over your hair to pull the damp strands away from your face, then sliding the same hand back down to your chest.

Then, to test the waters, you drug your nails down the softness of your stomach, dancing over the waistband of your shorts and lower to cup your covered center.

“You’re so fucking hot, I can’t stand it.” You desperately laughed, brows furrowed and thighs squeezing together for some semblance of relief.

“Watch that hand, Y/n…” Her voice was deep and you couldn’t help but release an audible groan, fussing at the idea of waiting.

“Impatient, are we?” She folded her arms across her bare chest, you hmphed at the loss. “Because I will gladly end this call right now.”

Immediately you corrected your position, folding your hands in your lap.

“That’s what I thought… wouldn’t want that now, right?”

“No, ma’am. Just tell me what you want me to do. Anything, please.” She was amused by your begging, letting out a low chuckle at the desperation in your voice.

“Take those shorts off and spread your legs.” The demand was abrupt, and it caused your pulse to jump. You sat in silence for a moment, she noticed your hesitation.

“What? Haven’t got panties on?” She smirked, and you cowered your head in a hot flush.

“No, I don’t…” You looked back up at her through the glass and smiled innocently.

She bit her lip, seemingly in thought, while also trailing her eyes over your mostly naked body. She tittered to herself, looking down at her lap, before looking up again.

“I’d say, if you had panties on, we could continue this little voyeur session. But… I think I’d rather see that pretty pussy of yours up close and personal. Not through a window.” You couldn’t help but shy again, her dirty compliment causing another pang of arousal to hit you.

“Are you saying I should come over, Prentiss?” You couldn’t help the smirk that crawled onto your face at the suggestion.

“Hmm… may-be.” She tilted her head and smiled, crossing her legs.

“Give me five minutes.” You smiled at her and picked up the phone, hanging it up. You shot her a wave as you got up from the couch, throwing your shirt back on before walking away from the window.

Making your way into the bathroom, you placed your palms on the countertop and sighed, leaning against it. Looking up at the mirror, you took note of your flushed cheeks, red and glazed.

You gave yourself a quick once-over, making sure to put on a little extra deodorant and spritzing some of your favorite perfume before splashing some cold water on your face.

Walking into your bedroom, you grab a pair of discarded sweatpants and pull them on over your shorts before step into a pair of slippers, grabbing your keys and phone before rushing out the front door.

You practically sprinted through the halls, nearly losing a shoe in the process. Your heart was racing with exertion and anticipation as you searched for her apartment number.

When you finally reach her door, you stand there for a moment. Hunched over with your hands on your knees, taking a deep breath. You raised a shaky hand to knock on the door but before you could, it was flung open and Emily’s figure stood in front of you.

“Hey, stranger.” She smirked, her scent suddenly overwhelming your senses once again. It reminded you of a gust of cold night air mixed with cigarettes and a rich cologne. Which would prove quite accurate once she stepped aside, inviting you in, noticing the open window and an ashtray still smoking on the windowsill.

“Hey…” You gave her a shy bow of your head, and stepped forward through the door, brushing against her warm, silk-covered chest as you did so.

You smiled proudly to yourself, shocked that you’ve managed to get this far with such a magnificent woman.

Placing your keys and phone on the table next to the door, you took a deep breath to ground yourself.

Hearing the door click shut, you spun around to face her. Immediately, you’re met with her strong hands gripping your hips and pulling you in, then pushing you over to and up against the nearest wall.

Her face was mere inches away from yours, close enough for you to feel her breath ghosting at your lips. She smirked again, her blackened irises twinkling in the low light, thumbs pressing into your hip bones causing you to let out a hmph.

“You know, Y/n… I have been dying to get my hands on you ever since I caught you watching me...” She gave you a once over, leaning in close to your ear and nipping at the lobe. “hands in your pants.. playing with yourself like I was some porno…” She moaned against your neck and you shivered, the closeness becoming all too much.

“Fuck Emily…” Your knees almost gave out when you felt her place a few sloppy kisses on the sensitive underside of your jaw.

Her mouth was so warm and wet, and when she began dragging her tongue from your collarbone up to your ear, the sounds you almost let out could’ve been called in as a noise complaint. Instead, you choked out a soft gasp, bringing your hands up to grasp at her shoulders.

Emily rasped out a chuckle, the vibrations hitting you like a truck. Every sense and nerve ending in your body kicked into top-gear.

“So responsive and I haven’t even touched you yet.” She pulled back and whispered against your lips.

“Well you should…please.” Your voice was barely audible, your eyes heavy as they looked up at her through your lashes.

Emily groaned and pressed herself against you, crashing your lips together. You wrapped your arms around her neck and pulled her impossibly closer. Her fingers slipped under the hem of your shirt, running over your stomach before squeezing your waist, urging your hips to roll into hers. You couldn’t help but to moan at the sensation.

And Emily, being the opportunist she is, used that moment to slip her tongue into your open mouth. You graciously welcomed the wet muscle, closing your lips around it and sucking gently. She hummed, pulling back to continue with her assault of open mouth kisses on your neck.

You let your head roll back, allowing her more access as her teeth scraped against the skin before biting down and sucking a bruise into it.

Your hand ran up the back of her neck, tangling your fingers in her nape and tugging at it gently in an attempt to bring her mouth back to yours.

But Emily had other plans.

“Let's go to the bedroom before I have to carry you there myself.” She smiled and placed a chaste kiss on your lips, pulling your arms from behind her and taking your hand in her own.

“Yes, ma’am.” You nodded with a near comical enthusiasm. She beamed at your excitement, laughing to herself quietly before dragging you down the hall to her room.

As you passed through the halls, you took in the decor. Walls, covered in pictures of friends and coworkers. A majority of the pictures were a bit old, as she had striking black hair and a baby face, as well as bangs in some. And very very pretty, you might add. The aesthetic of the apartment was overall romantically dark, with lots of black, red, and other warm-toned colors. She had a plethora of lamps and candles lit, adding a sensual ambiance.

“It’s so pretty in here, smells nice… you smell so nice.” You giggled, practically fawning over the woman. The arousal that had been rushing to your head putting you in some sort of giggly daze.

“You’re sweet, thank you… you smell very nice too.” She craned her neck to smile at you, causing another giggle to erupt from your chest as you blushed.

You admired her form in front of you. The sway of her hips underneath the silk, her toned legs, the beautiful, multi-tone silver hair that cascaded so gracefully past her shoulders. You looked down at the hand that was intertwined with yours. Her fingers, long and slightly aged with a few prominent veins twisting from her knuckles to her wrist, as well as one thicker vein that travelled up the back of her forearm.

“I like your hands.” You blurted out, blushing, a bit embarrassed after the fact.

“You’re about to love my hands, baby.” She quipped, and you flushed even harder. Emily chuckled again, pushing the bedroom door open. You followed in behind the woman eagerly, excitement rising like bile in your throat.

Her bedroom was a bit warmer than the rest of the apartment, and it smelt the most like her out of all the other rooms you’d been in. Her large mattress was dressed simply, with two pairs of pillows and a thick, bohemian patterned comforter. The room was kept neat, not a single stray item of clothing to be seen. There was also a faint humming of what sounded like jazz playing from an older-looking sound system in the corner.

Before you can take in your surroundings further, Emily is pressing you down onto the mattress and her body, climbing over you. Your hands immediately attach to her thighs, climbing up towards the apex as she straddles your hips. She runs a hand through her hair, flipping it to the side before leaning down to connect your lips with a smile.

It’s slow and sloppy and she groans against your mouth when you tightly squeeze the muscle of her upper thigh. Her hands slide under your shirt, nails gently scratching at your stomach before sliding upward, coming to a stop over your breasts and squeezing. You gasp, brows furrowing at the contact. Savoring the way her fingers circle over your nipples before pinching them between her index and middle fingers.

You find Emily’s mouth again, pressing your tongue past her lips to roll against hers. Her mouth tasted like bitter cigarettes and a hint of mouthwash, assuming she took a swig before you arrived. You wanted to taste her forever.

Gaining a bit of confidence, you begin moving your hands up a bit further, brushing your thumbs over her hips, then towards her pelvis. The muscles in her abdomen flutter beneath your fingertips at the touch. She puffs out a breath and presses further into you.

Emily pulls her hands out from beneath your shirt, pushing it up and exposing your bare chest, the rush of cold air causing the buds to stiffen. She runs her palms over them, you arch into her touch.

Her kisses start to leave your mouth, trailing over your cheeks, down the sides of your neck, over your collarbones, and finally to your chest. She smiles against your skin before taking your nipple between her teeth and tugging it gently.

Moaning aloud at the sharpness of her teeth, your head falls back against the duvet. Pulling a hand away from her thighs, you bury it at the base of her head, holding her tight against you.

“Sh-it, Emily…” you pant, raising up to look down at her, but quickly falling back when her eyes lock with yours as she begins trailing lower on your torso.

You quickly pull your shirt the rest of the way off and Emily giggles against the skin of your belly, kissing, biting, marking. She lets her hair fall like a curtain around her face, the strands tickling you as she descends.

With a final nip directly below your belly button, she peels herself out from your vice-like grip, sliding off your lap and kneeling on the mattress.

You watch as she begins untying her robe, letting it fall off her shoulders and tossing it across the room. You sit up on your elbows, taking in the curves of her body up close.

“May I?” You nod towards her chest.

“I suppose…” she smirks, placing her hands on the bed behind her and leaning back, pushing her already ample chest out. You couldn’t help but stare in awe.

Rolling onto your stomach then matching her position on your knees, you reach out, curling your fingers around the edge of her top and pulling the lace down, letting her breasts spill out.

You hum to yourself, palming the heavy tissue before diving in to place wet kisses over the soft skin. You looked up to watch her face as it screwed into a lust-blown expression while watching your mouth envelope her.

Her skin tasted bittersweet against your tongue, and it was utterly addicting. You wrap your arms around her torso, holding her tight and burying your face between the valley of her breasts, pecking and sucking the pale skin. You could feel Emily’s breath fanning over your face, cooling the flush on your cheeks.

She let out a soft hum, her head lulling to the side as you sucked a nipple into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the bud before biting into it gently. She lets out a yelp of surprise, hand grasping at the back of your head.

You smiled against her before craning your neck up to kiss her again. She opens her mouth, inviting your tongue in with a faint disparity.

Flinging a leg over her hip and settling into her lap, you urged her back against the pillows, mouths still locked together. Your hands pressed against her chest, squeezing as she pulled you up.

“You’re a really good kisser.” You whisper against her lips between sloppy kisses, the saliva beginning to spread across your chin and philtrum. Her hands grip your ass through your sweatpants, pulling your pelvis into her.

“Mm, so are you…” her nails rake up your nude sides, before wrapping tightly around your breasts.

“Oh-” you break the kiss, gasping at the roughness of her touch.

“I love your tits…” you cut her off with an urgent kiss, taking her soft, wet, bottom lip between yours sensually. She pulls back, “so pretty-” you cut her off once again, taking her top lip between yours this time.

“Just shut up and keep touching me” your hands grip her desperately below her ears. “Please…”

Emily groans before forcefully suctioning her mouth to yours, tongues tangling against each other.

You began to roll your hips into her, grinding slowly against the softness of her thigh. She grips at your hips, lifting and pulling you down onto her harder.

You let out a pitchy moan that she immediately swallowed. Her hands slip lower, gripping your ass through the fabric of your sweatpants.

“Take your pants off.” You could feel her smile into the kiss, and you hummed against her.

“How about you take them off?” You gave her a quick peck before climbing off her lap, falling backwards on the mattress with a giggle.

She smiled at you, raising up on her knees before running her palms from your shins to your thighs, giving them a squeeze before dipping into your waistband and pulling it down.

Once the pants were completely discarded, Emily placed your legs over her shoulders, holding eye contact as she pressed chaste kisses on the inside of your calves. Baring her teeth against the flesh before biting into it.

You let out a moan at the sharpness, but the pain was quickly soothed when she ran her tongue over the mark.

She began moving further up your legs, leaving kisses along their length. Her hands then drove up the back of your thighs, pressing them up and open.

You whine and your body tenses up as her teeth dig into the sensitive skin on the back of your thighs, hands flying out to hold on to the duvet as your hips raise towards her. She chuckles at your deplorable neediness.

“God.. please.” You release your grip on the bed and move to grasp at her arms as they wrap around your legs, fingertips grazing against the waistband of your shorts.

“I am definitely not God.” Emily humphs, sucking a hickey into your inner thigh, licking over it before turning her head and doing the same on the other side.

“Certainly feels like it…” you pant, running your hand through her hair before balling it up in your fist and tugging it gently. She croons, pulling away from your thighs and crawling up your torso.

You groan at the loss of contact, but quickly quiet down when her mouth attaches to your nipple and her pelvis grinds against your center, still covered by the thin shorts.

“Oh-” your mouth falls open at the pressure, releasing a silent moan.

Emily then wraps her arms around your torso and sits back on her heels, pulling you up into her lap once again. Your thighs squeeze around her hips, and your arms loop around her neck, one hand buried in the back of her head while the other grips the skin of her shoulder.

“I want you.” You pant against her open mouth. She moans against yours, nipping at your bottom lip before pulling it softly.

The room has grown sweltering, and the faint saxophone mingling with the sound of your mixed breaths only thickens the atmosphere.

You feel her hand as it slides from its spot on your waist down past the curve of your ass. You’re practically trembling when her fingers begin to slip past the hem of your shorts.

Her eyes lock with yours when she finally makes contact with your drenched core, watching you. You shudder as her fingers glide through your slit, drawing teasing circles in the slick.

Your head falls against her shoulder with a gasp when she nudges your clit, hips immediately sputtering into a sloppy rhythm. You whimper against the skin of her neck, suckling gently to stifle the uninhibited noises escaping from your throat.

The intensity of it was almost too much. You didn’t realize just how strongly you wanted this until now.

Drenched, whining and moaning against the hot neck of your very attractive neighbor, who just so happens to be employed by The FBI (making her inherently hotter), while she plays with your pussy as you straddle her lap.

God those fingers are good. Too good.

So fucking good you can feel yourself rapidly approaching orgasm and she’s hardly even fucked you yet.

“Put your fingers inside me… want you to feel it when I cum for you-OH!” You cry out as she slips two of those delicious fingers easily inside. Rubbing oh-so-sweetly against the spongy spot just past your opening.

“So fucking wet.. so needy. How close are you, baby? Gonna cum for me?” Emily’s voice is deep but soft against your ear, and you shiver at the brush of her lips against the cartilage.

“Mhm, so close.. I need more.” She hums again, sliding her hand out from behind you and slipping it past the waistband in the front of your shorts.

Her fingers dip down and collect the wetness from your slit, dragging it up to your swollen bud, circling it with a practiced ease.

You're panting hard against her neck, practically humping her hand like a feral dog as she plays with you. You bite into her shoulder with a groan when she slips her fingers back inside you from the new angle

“Emily- oh my god. Keep going.” You chant, leaning back in her grip and bouncing slightly on her hand.

“That’s so fucking hot, keep riding my fingers, baby.” Emily's eyes are wide, watching your body move with intent. Her mouth hangs open slightly, lips swollen and glistening.

Your whines grow louder when she begins thrusting into you as your hips fall back down on her lap, her palm pressing against your clit.

The knot in your belly is growing by the second now, and you know it’ll only be a short while before you're practically seizing against her.

“M’gonna cum…” you pant, breathless and clenching a fist in her hair while the other claws at her back.

“Cum for me, baby… fuck you feel so good.” Emily practically moans, kissing the junction of your neck and shoulder as her free hand moves to pinch at your nipple.

“Fuckfuckfuck… oh, Emily-” your body tenses up, thighs quivering as the quaking force of an orgasm hits you.

You let out quick and breathy moans as your hips stutter against Emily’s stilled hand, fucking the remainder of your orgasm out little by little.

Emily’s tongue darts out to lap up the beads of sweat that have begun collecting over your collar bones. She then moves up the flushed skin of your neck, placing gentle kisses over the marks she left.

“You’re gonna have fun covering those up…” She chuckles, kissing up your jaw and over your cheek.

You whip your head around to give her a ridiculous look, something like shock, but also not surprised because you were practically begging for it.

You definitely did not mind being marked by her, in fact it gave you material to think about when you’d inevitably go home and jerk off to just thoughts of her.

“You’re ridiculous…” you lean in to kiss her, slowly sucking on her bottom lip before tilting your head and opening up for her tongue to slide in.

When she slips her fingers out from your still sensitive sex, a moan falls from your lips and into her awaiting mouth.

You pull away, looking over her perfect face, watching as places her wet digits into her mouth. Hollowing her cheeks and sucking your arousal from them.

Your mouth falls open, you could probably cum again just from watching her do that.

But when she brought the same fingers up to your mouth, smearing the wet mixture over your lips and chin before leaning in to kiss you once again, you thought you might die.

The string of saliva that hung between you and Emily was disgustingly hot. So hot in fact, that you just had to take her hand in your own and bring those beautiful fingers back up to suck them clean yourself.

“Mm, shit…” she grinned, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth.

You twirled your tongue slowly between her fingers, savoring the taste of her spit mixed with your own arousal. Closing your lips around the digits, you bobbed your head, taking them as deep in your mouth as you could without gagging.

Emily watched you with an impressed face, chuckling to herself with a quirked brow as you repeated the movement over a few more times.

You pulled her fingers from your mouth with a pop and kissed the tips before tilting your head down and looking up at her through your lashes.

“You were right about me loving your hands.” You sheepishly giggle, slouching against her body and wrapping your arms around her shoulders again.

“I certainly was.” She laughs, wrapping her arms around your waist and leaning back, pulling you down against the pillows with her.

You smile down at her with the new position, arms braced on each side of her head while your bottom settles over her stomach.

“And what about mine, hm? Do you think you’ll looove my hands, too?” You smiled teasingly, dipping down to kiss her. Placing a few chaste pecks before Emily deepened the kiss, flicking her tongue against your upper lip. Her hands rise up to tangle in your hair, pulling you closer so that your chest pressed against hers.

“Mm, why don’t we put them to the test and find out?” She murmured against your open mouth.

“I like that idea.” You gave her a final deep, wet kiss and pulled away, trailing your lips down to her neck.

Nipping at the soft skin of her throat, you raised yourself off her hips, moving backwards and shoving her legs open with your own so you could settle between them.

“I think it’s time this stupid thing comes off.” You drone, pulling the lace teddy down her torso, leaving gentle kisses on each patch of skin revealed.

“You loved it.” Emily said frankly, raising her head to watch as you peel the fabric away from her skin.

“Mmm…I so did.” You groan, nipping at the softness of her lower belly, causing her to yelp and twitch against you. You smiled, placing a kiss over the spot.

Sitting up, you ran your palms over Emily’s smooth thighs, taking in her flushed state in front of you. Cheeks glazed, hair mused, covered in the marks of your passion. She watches you expectantly, eyes dark and fingers toying with the skin of her lip.

Your eyes drift down to her pelvis that sat in front of yours.

You couldn’t help but notice the arousal that had begun seeping through the lace over her center. With a hum and a bite of your lip, you brought your hand down to her pubic bone, resting your fingers on the covered mound while your thumb brushed over the sticky fabric.

Emily grumbled, spreading her legs further and digging her heels into your ass.

“So wet…” you raise the thumb to your mouth, sucking it in and groaning as you absorb the piquant flavor of Emily’s arousal. Making sure to look her in the eye as you do so. She hums, eyes glinting with excitement.

“I think I know what I wanna do next…” you give her a sharp smile before moving to tug the lace down her legs. Emily lets out an almost youthful giggle, shrieking as you forcefully yank the fabric from her body.

“And what might that be, y/n?” Emily questions sarcastically, sitting up on her elbows.

“You’ll see…” You kiss her knees and shins as you scoot even further down the mattress, flattening out on your belly.

You wrap an arm around her thigh, maneuvering it so Emily’s calf would rest on your shoulder. The other roams up towards her torso, giving her breast a squeeze before tweaking her nipple.

Emily groans, bringing a hand down to your hair, attempting to push your face against her.

“Patience, Chief.” you tsk, pinching her inner thigh.

“You make it so hard, saying things like that.” Emily whines, head falling back in anguish and her fingers tugging at your scalp.

You can’t help but smile up at her from between the columns of her thighs, placing an open mouth kiss on the dewy skin at the apex of her inner thigh.

Her scent is beginning to cloud your ability to think in proper terms. Heady and warm, heat is practically radiating from her sex. You place a gentle kiss on each side of her labia, she lets out a breathy moan.

Before you can get carried away with your mouth, you pull back. Admiring the beauty of her before gliding your thumb through the glistening slit, spreading her folds like a beautiful flower covered in morning dew.

“So pretty..” you whisper, placing a kiss atop the patch of trimmed hair and then another directly over her slit.

Emily moved to sit up again, reveling in the sight of you worshiping her pussy. Her hand ran through your hair, bunching it into a sloppy almost-ponytail.

“Stop teasing.” There’s a sternness in her voice that you simply cannot deny. You bring your middle and index fingers up to your mouth, dipping them inside and pulling them out. Looking up to Emily’s face, you place the moistened pads over her swollen bud. She hisses when you start moving in slow circles, pressing hard then softer with each loop.

The hand in your hair begins pulling tighter, inhaling a sharp breath as the sting becomes more painful.

“More.” Emily huffs, loosening her grip and smoothing the ruffled mess of your hair down.

“You’re gonna have to ask nicely…” your tone is condescending and give her another evil grin before placing more wet kisses on her thighs.

“I want your mouth… please” Emily grumbled, becoming increasingly impatient.

“There ya go… miss big shot, too proud to beg for me to eat her out.” You murmur that last bit before licking a broad stripe over her slit.

Her body arches into your touch, the same hand gripping at your scalp once again as she lets out a breath.

“Oh, I’ll beg. You just have to work for it…” her sentence trails off as you close your lips around her clit, sucking on it gently.

You take turns switching between licking and sucking on her pussy, studying all the little things that make her body tick. Every little tweak and touch that makes her hair stand, prickling to attention.

Emily begins letting out a steady stream of soft moans, panting as her head lulls back and raises up again.

“fingers.. please.” Her eyes are pleading when she looks down at you again.

You hum against her, pressing your middle and index finger against her opening. Dipping in slightly before pressing them in all the way. Your eyes are intent on her face as you turn your fingers over, curling up against her pubic bone.

Emily nods swiftly, closing her eyes and letting the pleasure consume her.

Your tongue continues its lazy circles over her clit as your fingers begin pumping inside of her. Curling upward each time your knuckles bottom out against her.

Emily’s breaths were ragged as she arched her back, grinding against your mouth and hand. Her chest is flushed, and the thin sheen of sweat between her breasts has begun to bead.

“Harder…” the older woman huffs.

You raise up slightly, bringing your knees under you for leverage, pulling your fingers all the way out before pounding them into her once again.

Emily wails a high pitched moan, her fist so tight against your scalp you can feel hairs being plucked from their follicles.

She looks down at you again, slack jawed. Her lips have chapped from all the panting, and her heavy, half-lidded eyes struggle to remain locked on you.

“Fuck, you’re so good…” Emily’s voice has lost its usual rasp, opting for a more high pitched and needy tone. “Kiss me.” She whimpers, curling herself closer to you while also tugging on your head.

You can feel her pussy clench around your fingers in the new position. The curve in her belly, forcing her insides to constrict.

You lick into Emily’s mouth, breathing in her chants of pleasure as you use your knee for leverage, fucking into her with stupifying force and pace.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck-” Emily’s blunt fingernails dig into the skin of your back, tearing red streaks into the flesh, her face scrunched in concentration.

You’re panting against her lips, pressing your forehead against her and putting every ounce of stamina you could muster into bringing this godess of a woman to orgasm.

“Fuck, y/n baby.. gonna cum.” Emily whines, her hands sliding back up to your head and pulling you into a passionate kiss. She whimpers into your mouth with each strong pump of your fingers, hitting that perfect spot deep inside her.

The lewd sounds of your ministrations fill the room, the wetness of her cunt, splattering over the duvet as well as your arm and leg.

“You look so pretty.. taking me so well.” You murmur, palm grinding over her clit. Emily lets out a groan and you can feel her thighs begin to tremble.

She pulls you back in, burying her face in your sweaty neck, biting into the skin and wrapping her legs around you tight as she topples over the edge.

Her moans are breathy and quiet, almost cries as she twitches with the shocks of her orgasm in your grasp. Her inner walls clamp down on your fingers and hold them in place while you work her clit gently with your thumb.

Emily’s bites against your neck turn into sloppy kisses and kitten licks as she comes back down to earth, grip loosening but unmoving from the closeness.

“I think we found our answer.” She pants out a laugh, letting her head fall back against the pillows.

“I think we did.” You chuckle in return, collapsing beside her and resting your head atop of her shoulder. Slipping out her gently, you bring your soiled fingers up to your mouth. Letting the divine taste of her orgasm sink into your tastebuds.

Emily tilts her head to watch, giving you a lazy smile before swatting your hand away and pressing her lips against yours, tasting herself.

She pulls away with a satisfied sigh, letting her limbs fall haphazardly to the bed, but keeping the arm behind your back snug around your shoulder.

She twirls your hair mindlessly as she catches her breath, you inhale the scent of her skin.

“I need a fucking cigarette.” Emily blurts out, you laugh against her collarbone.

“Could I bum one?” You tilt your head to her with a hopeful gaze.

“Only if you ask nicely.” She mocks, turning to you with a jeering expression.

“Please…” you place a few pecks on her neck. “oh please, chief Prentiss,” you kiss her hard on the cheek. “may I bum a cigarette from you?” You give her your best puppy dog eyes.

“You’re lucky you’re so cute. It’s very hard to resist.” She smiles, her dimples on full display.

You lean in, placing a gentle kiss to her bottom lip.

“Not so bad yourself, Chief.” You wink, sitting up and turning your body towards her.

“Oh, cut that out.” Emily swats at your thigh, a bashful glow creeping up her cheeks.

You move to roll out of the bed and Emily follows, picking her discarded robe from the floor and throwing it on, not bothering to tie it.

She pads over to the closet, pulling out a matching robe from the rack and tossing it at you. She buckles over in laughter when it hits you square in the face.

“You think you’re sooo funny.” You gave her a deadpan look, putting a hand on your hip after you secured the silk over your shoulders.

“Oh, I’m hilarious.” Emily grins, walking past you and waving for you to follow her out the bedroom door. And you followed just like a puppy does its mother.

Entering the living area, Emily plops herself into the chair by the cracked windows. Grabbing the open pack of cigarettes, placing one in her mouth and lighting it up.

She looks over at your form, standing awkwardly in the center of the room.

She pats her lap, signaling for you to take a seat on her knee. You immediately beam, prancing over and plopping yourself down on her.

Emily chuckles to herself, grabbing another cigarette and placing it against your awaiting lips. She leans in, pressing the glowing end of hers against yours, lighting it.

That might’ve been the hottest thing you’ve ever seen and you literally just fucked this woman silly.

“Hot.” You plainly state. Emily smiles, taking a drag and blowing it up into the air.

And there you sat, comfortably curled up in the lap of your gorgeous older neighbor, after being deliciously fucked, smoking one of her cigarettes.

Quite possibly the greatest night of your life.

…

[immodestly-marina]

So Soaked

A/n: Y’all are so patient oh my goddd, I totally forgot this one has been in my drafts for like a week. I hope you enjoy, and fingers crossed I remember to post more this week!! xx

Summary: With Sam lacking all inhibitions and sense of morality, he suggests an exciting new way to pass time with you. His brother’s girlfriend.

Warnings: Unprotected sex, cheating, slight dubcon? (Sam somewhat coaxes reader into having sex with him) manhandling, spanking, creampie, oral (F receiving), degrading kink, praise kink, fingering (F receiving), hair pulling, marking, Sam’s an asshole *Marina shrug’s*

“He gives you any shit, clock him. Y’hear?” Dean stands in the doorway glancing at you as he heads out, you give him a nod before chuckling to yourself.

When Sam returned from hell (as one does), his soul somehow managed to separate from his body, therefore he’s been different. He still has feelings, and memories, but the Sam part in particular is still out of reach. Needless to say, he’s been somewhat of a nuisance since he’s been back.

You’ve noticed his attitude towards you has particularly shifted, of all other things. You’ve always known Sam as the sweet, gentle giant that he is, but most importantly he was respectful. That Sam never wanted to push the boundaries you had. Now, all of those morals seem to have just gone straight out the window, because less than an hour ago he said: “Hey, surely that mouth can open wider for something other than talking, hm?” in response to when you criticized his proposition for your current objective. You backhanded him immediately after.

With Dean gone, you both sat in silence cleaning your guns and organizing your materials, every so often glancing up at Sam, expecting something at least half morally correct to come out of his mouth.

Eventually you gave up, and just focused on cleaning out the barrel of your sawed off.

“I want to fuck you.”

You blinked. And then again. And then once more, before shooting a glare his way. He just sat there looking down at his rifle as he absentmindedly scrubbed away, not a word.

“Excuse me?” You responded through gritted teeth. He barely looked up, all you got was a small shake of his head.

“I’m bored, I wasn’t planning on doing this the whole time he’s gone so I thought we could do something fun to pass the time.” He fucking shrugged. You scoffed and slammed your gun on the chair beside you before huffing and heading into the small bathroom of the motel.

He wasn’t trying to be an asshole, he just didn’t see honesty as being a bad thing anymore. He was attracted to you, he always has been. He just lacks the shame to hide it right now.

You groan at the sound of a knock coming from behind you, waiting for more of Sam’s vulgar suggestions for how to spend your little time together.

“I made you uncomfortable, I’m sorry.” You tilt your head at his apology, finding it odd that his first approach would be an actual apology- “The offer’s still on the table, though…”

Oh. Wonderful, you think to yourself. Swinging the door open, you shove past him to grab your bag. The last thing you want is to spend the next few hours arguing with Sam on how to behave around women, let alone spend the next few hours fucking him and dealing with the overwhelming guilt of cheating on his brother.

“Oh, come on-” Sam mumbles as he follows you out of the room, catching you by the elbow before you can reach the motel door. You yank your arm back, but to no avail. He’s way bigger and way stronger, though his grip doesn’t let up, it’s still surprisingly loose.

“Just wait a second, just wait-” You scoff and tug your arm free. He sighs calmly, “Look, I know you want this too. You don’t have to try to hide it anymore, I’m giving you the opportunity to satisfy it while you can.”

He cocks his brow as if to ask ‘Well?’

You shake your head, crossing your arms and looking away. He steps back into your line of sight before continuing. “It’s a win-win, is it not? I get laid, you get to live out this fantasy without any trouble-”

“What do you mean without any trouble? I’m not cheating on Dean, your own brother!”

“He wouldn’t have to know.” He interrupts. “I’m not gonna say anything if you don’t,”

You grit your teeth, but deep down you’ve contemplated the idea before. You feel god awful about it, but something about Sam has always been a little bit captivating to you. His eyes don’t leave yours as he watches the cogs in your head turn. Sam steps closer to you, tilting his head down and showing off his pretty puppy eyes that remain even without a soul.

He leans in beside you. “You want this…” Sam whispers into your ear.

“So take it.”

Your breath catches in your throat before you reach up and pull him down by the head to crash your lips against his, to which his hands move to grip your ass before hoisting you up by the thighs. You whine against him and tangle your fingers into his hair as your own falls into your face. With one hand sliding up to wrap around your back, his other pushes the strands of hair back before pulling it all into his hand, yanking it back to drag his lips across your neck as he walks you to the bed.

Your back hits the shitty motel mattress as he pulls his shirt off over his head, immediately tossing it and crawling over you to remove yours. As the pile of clothes takes up more space on the floor, he takes his place in between your thighs to toy with your underwear. His palms smooth over your hips, before forcefully pushing open your legs wide enough for him to dive straight towards your clothed cunt.

Sam nips at your clit through your underwear, looking up at you as you let out a quiet mewl at his teasing. He stops then, before moving down to just below your entrance and licking a rough stripe from there to your clit, flicking his tongue against it once more. Your hand flies to his hair to bring him closer, but he catches it and slams it against the mattress, mumbling a “Stay still” against the material over your pussy.

He continues these administrations for mere minutes, before pulling back to yank your panties down your legs, tossing them as soon as they leave your ankles. With that, he lays back down on his stomach, and roughly sucks your clit between his lips, his teeth threatening with soft grazes before soothing them with his tongue.

His large hands hold your hips in place before they can buck or grind against his face as he licks and drags his tongue across your folds rapidly.

Your eyes want to squeeze shut, but doing so would rid you of the sight of him like this: between your legs, his eyes hooded, huge hands holding you down, mouth alternating between being closed around your clit to dragging across your entrance with his tongue.

His hand soon leaves your hip, replacing it with his other arm as it moves down to your sopping cunt, toying with the peachy wet skin, before teasing your hole with just the tip of his finger, slowly giving you shallow thrusts before softly caressing your hole, and going back to teasing you with almost nothing.

Your whines increase in volume, and he takes that as a cue to give you what you want. He inserts his index finger to the knuckle, curling it before pulling it from you and thrusting it back in. He eventually adds his middle finger, and then another, before roughly fucking you with his fingers as his tongue flicks feverishly at your clit.

You feel Sam grunt against you as your moans come out louder. His speed increases until he feels your cunt baring down harder against his knuckles before removing them completely, giving your pussy one last, long, slow lick.

With his pants already discarded on the floor, Sam palms his dick through his boxers, giving it a few tugs before freeing it from the restricting material. Your hands instinctively reach out for him, Sam chuckles and slaps them away as he strokes himself in front of you. He makes his way back over you, leaning down to mouth at your neck once more. You feel his teeth nip at your sensitive skin, before sucking it between his teeth. It isn’t until he soothes the mark with his tongue that you realize, he’s marking you up for his brother to see. You push Sam’s face away from your neck, and his hand immediately grabs it and pins it by your head.

“What?” He huffs above you. “Don’t wanna remember this? Don’t wanna be reminded about how you let your boyfriend’s brother fuck you, hm?” Sam tilts his head down at you as you let out a quiet whine. His eyes fall to your chest, as his lips curl into a smirk. “Or is it that you don’t want your boyfriend to know…” He leans down to your ear,his breath ghosting over your neck as he whispers, “how you let his brother fuck you?”

Sam flicks his tongue against the spot just below your earlobe, before nipping it to leave just the smallest mark, Dean could easily miss it, surely.

You relax against him when his fingers drag along your thigh, moving towards your hip to grip it tight. Sam sits up to fist his cock with his other hand, spreading precum across his tip before nudging himself towards your core. He watches your face for any negative reaction, not in the mood for dealing with the repercussions of you not feeling comfortable. When he sees your subtle nod, he rubs his tip between your folds, gathering your wetness to slick up his cock before nudging his tip at your entrance.

He slips past your folds, your pussy welcoming him inside within seconds. It’s not long before he starts fucking into you at a rough pace, hands gripping your hips as he slams his against you.

Your hands scramble to reach his shoulders, nails digging harder into the tough muscle with each mean thrust of his hips. Sam ducks his head into the crook of your neck as he lets out a low grunt, his pace slowing down to grind into you, hard. He keeps that pace for all of five seconds, before giving you a rough thrust that has your eyes rolling back and your lungs huffing out a choked moan. He lets out a breathy groan that fades into a dark chuckle, “That’s a girl, fuck… that’s a good girl, good girl, holy shit…”

His hips move faster again, the tip of his cock bullying your cervix over and over as his teeth find your neck again. Oddly enough, he nips you ever so gently, before soothing the spot with a swipe of his warm tongue. Sam sucks another bruise onto your jaw when his calloused fingers find their way to your still puffy clit. He brings his face above yours as his thumb circles your sensitive bud, his lips ghosting over yours while you pant into each other's mouths.

The room is filled by the wet plap, plap, plap’s of Sam’s hips rutting into you, and your soft moans drowned out by his deep grunts and groans. His fingers speed up their assault on your clit and your voice jumps up an octave or two, moans becoming almost pornographic. Sam almost loses it.

He leans down to capture your lips in a rough kiss, hand leaving your pussy to grab your chin and hold it aggressively between his fingers. He pulls his lips off yours by barely an inch, eyes opening to lock into yours as he slams into you harder.

“God, take that fucking cock- so fucking slutty for me, hm?” When he only gets a whimper in response, he squeezes your cheeks between his fingers and gives you a single hard thrust to grab your attention. “Tell me how fucking good it is, I wanna hear you admit how fucking good you feel right now.”

Your eyes nearly cross from his assertion, and you nod quickly when you do as you’re asked. “H-ahh- feels- s’good! Feel so, so good, Sammy!” Your fingers dig harder into the tough flesh of his shoulders, legs wrapped tightly around his hips. He nods, still holding more than half your face in his huge hand. “Yeah, s’right… and who’s making you feel that fucking good baby, who fucks this pussy the way you need?” He brings your leg around his hip to rest on his upper arm as he plows into you at an even deeper angle.

Your eyes widen at the feeling of the new position, shocked you’d never tried this with Dean before. Dean, shit. This was a fucking terrible idea… but honest to god, it feels so good. It almost feels right. You zero in on his blissed out face, your mouth falling open to answer his question with a whine. “You are- ohmygod… Sam, you are- you do-” You’re cut off with a moan as his hand holds your throat as he sits up on his knees to fuck you faster.

Sam grins a little with the increased pace and your loud reaction. His unoccupied hand comes down to smack your ass, causing more whimpers to leave your lips. Each of his new ministrations bring you closer, and closer to your orgasm, which he can tell is rapidly approaching by the look on your face and the blush trailing from your cheeks to your chest, as well as the way your cunt is fluttering around him. “M’gonna-”

Knew it, he thinks to himself. He spanks you again, gripping your thigh with a rough grip. “I wanna hear you fucking scream my name as you come on my cock, dollface.”

It wasn’t long after the words left his mouth that you felt your orgasm rip through you like a tidal wave, your back arching off the bed a little as you quiver around Sam’s dick. His name leaves your mouth over and over, turning it into a mantra within seconds. You fight to keep your eyes from squeezing shut when his pace doesn’t falter, let alone slow.

It’s not until tears brim at your eyes that Sam pulls out to flip you over, and he’s not gentle about it. He presses your head into the pillow below you, then hoists you up by your waist and hip to hold onto you as he sinks back into your glistening pussy. As soon as he’s buried to the hilt once more, he continues roughfucking you into next week, yanking you back by your hips with each pump of his hips. Loud grunts leave Sam’s throat as he chases his own orgasm, his fingers bruising your hips as he grips you harder and harder the closer he gets.

With a few more thrusts, Sam stills and chokes out a long groan as he spills inside of you. His hips buck into you weakly as his cock throbs against your walls, his head falling in exhaustion as he gives a few more slow strokes to draw out his orgasm.

He lazily rubs your hips as he pulls out of you, before leaning down to watch his come leak out from your abused hole. Thick globs of white roll down your pink lips, but are quickly swiped by Sam’s fingers and pushed back into you. His other hand steadies you by the hip while his fingers work his come deeper into your cunt with obscene sounds.

He eventually pulls them out and smears the remaining fluid on your folds, chuckling to himself at the sight.

“So dirty, fuck… knew that would make time pass faster.”

[theother-victoria]

hello, sailor!

SYNOPSIS: all aboard the lady luck and set sail for a new adventure! life on land doesn't satisfy you, so why not take to the seas instead? while working under captain aventurine as the primary nurse onboard, everything you've ever wanted is within your grasp, and yet the mystery surrounding your captain is still there, just short of being solved. just what kind of secrets lie hidden beneath that charming smile and silver tongue?

CHARACTERS: aventurine, topaz, ratio, jade, robin

TAGS: fem coded reader (wearing dresses, makeup, but they/them pronouns still used), mentions of drinking, gambling, harassment toward reader, drowning, numby is a regular piglet in this fic, 23.9k wc (get some snacks and a drink ready for this one), mild angst, some suggestiveness

NOTES: thought my aventurine kissery phase was over then hoyo uploaded the pirate art of him and now its back to square one

special thanks to my pookies @https-sourlimes and @tragedy-of-commons for proofreading this behemoth of a fic! with much love mwah 💋

very late but @lowkeyren hihihi ren!! I got u for secret santa and hope u enjoy this fic!

TAGLIST: @harque, @akutasoda, @hazyue, @gabile18, @khoncore, @moineauz, @mikashisus, @vxnuslogy, @papiliotao, @gl4di0lus

The rolling sea has always beckoned you.

It’s always been there, tucked away in the back of your mind, usually hidden but resurfacing like the corals and lost trinkets at low tide you’d go scavenging for when no one was looking. Conch shells hold the secrets of the ocean that enrapture you for hours on end and you drape yourself in weathered jewelry washed ashore. Dried-up starfish and seashells and multicolored sea glass litter your home, and yet it isn’t enough. These trinkets pile up and gather dust in your home as you chase after what you’re really after- a way out. 

You’ve been surrounded by the sea your entire life, born and raised in this very port town. You grew up hearing stories of lands faraway from your parents and the workers down at the docks. Infamous pirates and honorable seamen alike and their journeys were your bedtime stories as a kid. You never see the same unfamiliar face twice in a place like this and perhaps it’s this ability to come and go as you please that captured your heart from a young age. Appearing and disappearing like an apparition with rumors of your conquests and the freedom a life at sea granted… it was enough to grab your attention as a kid and never let go.

And yet, you’ve never ventured into the open seas. The most you’ve done is swim around at the beach, but you’ve never been able to push further than that. Theoretically, you should’ve been able to leave long before now, but your plans never made it past the first step. You’ve been denied passage aboard ships at every turn for countless reasons, all of them stupider than the last. Eventually, your motivation died down until you resigned yourself to a dull life on land- but the dream never fizzled out completely. Even now, you still stroll along the beach and search for answers. 

Down at the dock, you hear of sailors and pirates alike drunkenly telling tales of sirens and their bewitching songs they waged war against at sea. You wager that the sea’s freedom beckons to you the same way a siren’s song does to them- irresistible, enchanting, and inescapable no matter where you are. 

When work is slow, you find yourself staring out at the sea through the window, just watching as the tides recede and crash onto the shoreline repeatedly. At night, you’d catch yourself at the beach with your feet in the sand and the salty waters lapping at your ankles without any recollection of how you got there. Maybe sleepwalking? But something tells you that’s not the answer. 

But this time, you suddenly find yourself standing in waist-deep water, completely alone and without a sound to be heard. Not even the usual sound of squawking gulls circling overhead can be heard. That’s strange. The harbor is always busy, with goods being transported and people seeking asylum. There’s ships docked and as far as you can tell, it’s as normal of a day as any other. And yet, there’s no life to be seen or heard. No crabs scuttling along the sandy beach, no people strolling along the boardwalk, no shouts of street vendors peddling their wares to passersby. Just you, the sea, and its ever-growing temptation.

You think it’s somewhere around early evening from the position of the sun, but you aren’t sure how long you stare toward the horizon, unblinking. But when you do blink, you see a pirate ship coming into view. She’s quite possibly the most incredible ship you’ve ever seen in your life, with several sails, a sturdy hull, and a flag fluttering proudly atop the mainmast. And she’s heading right toward you. If you swim out further or wait where you are for a while longer, she’ll pass by, giving you the perfect opportunity to sneak onboard. 

You look back one last time before heading further out to sea. You slip below the water. It’s pleasantly warm and you wonder why you’ve never attempted this before.

The siren’s embrace, that is the ocean’s form of freedom, is growing stronger. 

Port towns aren’t known for being the safest, especially those frequented by pirates. Public drunken brawls, looting by particularly greedy pirate crews, lechery, and disturbance of the peace with the occasional count of public indecency, are commonplace almost every night. Usually, you’re able to avoid most of it, but today isn’t your lucky day. 

“Hey, pretty lady! Mind comin’ home-”

Crash!

An empty beer bottle goes flying by, barely missing his head and shattering into bits against the brick wall behind him. He lets out an unusually high-pitched squeak for someone of his size and stares as you storm past, his mouth agape. Another sailor behind him laughs at his plight, to which he spins around and cusses toward his face. You make it out just in time as the first punch is thrown. 

One drunken sailor is more than enough to deal with, you decide. You decide that you’ll take your chances and go past the port as a shortcut back home, even though it’s late. 

It’s silent besides the sloshing of the waves and mostly empty. There’s some burly guards patrolling in front of the more ostentatious pirate ships that spare a glance as you hurry by, but it’s otherwise deserted at this hour. 

Until you approach the end of the harbor where few ships are docked. You hear the faint sounds of a struggle- a punch being thrown, a man’s muffled scream, glass shattering, the wet squelch of a knife sinking into flesh, and the thud of a body hitting the ground. From the shadows, you see two people emerge. A blond man drags someone out by the hair with a knife in hand. Even from here, you can see the dark slick staining the wood. There’s a ship directly in front of him. You assume it belongs- or belonged- to the now-lifeless body being dragged along. The blond looks around, then freezes up upon seeing you. The hand holding the knife tenses at his side and the two of you stay locked in place like that for a bit, daring to see who will make the first move. Shockingly bright neon eyes meet yours and you jolt. You’ve never seen anyone with eyes like his.

But there’s a ship that’s still waiting. You recall that strange dream you had a few nights ago.

… On second thought, perhaps today is your lucky day after all. 

You slowly clap, starting to move forward, and the blond steps back. The knife in his hands, now aimed at you, is a tiny thing. It’s rusted, the blade is most likely dull, and even the butter knife in your kitchen would laugh at it. 

“Congrats on winning. Got any injuries you need patched up?”

No response. You try again. 

“I see those injuries you got from that fight. Those wounds of yours won’t heal overnight. Someone has to be there to ensure they don’t get infected.”

“... You’re a nurse?”

His voice comes out smoother than expected. Amusement and snark drip from the words, thick as honey, like he can’t believe you’re a medical professional. And yet, you can hear the tenseness in his voice and see it in his coiled muscles, ready to spring back into action again. 

You ignore the jab toward you and point toward the winding cobblestone streets that you came from. The sounds of a fight can be heard coming from the town square even out here. 

“Run a practice in town. Certified and everything if you’re real nitpicky and care about my credentials. Though most sailors that come through the door could care less when they’ve got a pretty lady lookin’ over ‘em and are used to amputations for the most minor of infections.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t been snatched up by another pirate crew yet then,” he smugly remarks, voice as smooth as velvet yet concealing a sharp edge.

“Oh, there’ve been attempts alright. Promises of double the booty a normal seaman would receive, the finest quarters second only to the captain, medical supplies taking utmost priority when docking, and many many more. Hah! All nice and cute, but we know that in a few months time, all those promises will have fallen out the window and I’ll be regarded with no less respect than the lowliest seaman onboard.”

He leans back against a wooden post, roughly kicking the man from earlier until his bleeding head is submerged underwater. You spare a glance at the poor soul before looking back at him.

“Got a ship now?”

“... It’s not much, but it’s something to start with.”

He looks behind him and as he does so, the sleeves of his rags shift to reveal the injuries lying beneath. A sharp intake of breath is the only sign you’ve seen them, but his keen ears pick up on it. He tugs his sleeves down and glowers over his shoulder in your direction. 

“You don’t have any medical expertise, do you?” you ask, ignoring his irritation. “Not a good idea to go out conquerin’ the seven seas without a nurse on board. Matter of fact, I doubt you’d even get that far. Probably die off from scurvy or something preventable.”

His silence speaks volumes. You brush past him and set foot onto his stolen ship- little more than a glorified rowboat with a mast and a single sail. It couldn’t even be called a sailboat. 

Still, he won’t go down so easily. He crosses his arms in front of his chest and stares you down behind his thick bangs obscuring his vision.

“And why should I welcome you aboard?”

“Simple. We both get what we want.”

You reach your hand out to him.

“You get a trained, qualified medical professional to treat your wounds, and I get to escape this rinky-dink, backwater port town. A mutually beneficial deal, don’t you agree?”

He racks his mind for an excuse, anything, really, to turn you down. But he can’t come up with anything. The wounds all over his body really do need treatment that he doesn’t have the expertise for. There’s enough room for two people in the boat and he knows you’re smart enough to have realized that by now. 

It’s fine. I’ll just dump them off at the next port and be on my way. Problem solved. 

With no excuse that can fly under your radar, he pushes his irritation down and forces a smile onto his face. He reaches a hand out and it’s just now you notice his ghostly blue fingertips.

… He’s not entirely human, is he?

“Your name?”

“(Name).”

“Welcome aboard, Nurse (Name).”

You brush your thoughts aside and shake his hand. It’s cold. 

“Pleasure, Captain…?”

“Aventurine.”

You squeeze his hand firmly one last time.

“Pleasure to be working with you, Captain Aventurine.”

Captain, huh? He tries the title on for size in his mind as you get settled in, rolling it around on his tongue. 

I could get used to being called that.

Even though he initially promised himself that he’d kick you out at the next port, that never happens. You pass by several ports, and yet you stay onboard. Perhaps it’s because he finds his first treasure alongside you on an island that many have sailed past countless times. The treasure was hiding under everyone’s noses the entire time, both of you managing to uncover it with a bit of wit and a hefty amount of luck. Aventurine supposes part of himself feels indebted to you, much as he hates the sensation. You found your first treasures together and you’ve admittedly been taking good care of his wounds born from years of enslavement. The healing process is coming along slowly but steadily.

Perhaps he’ll let you stay for a bit longer. Until you get your share of this treasure. He gives credit where credit is due, at least.

“I can’t believe this has been here this whole time,” you say as the treasure chest is finally unearthed. Aventurine sets the shovel down, and on the count of three, you lift it out to go through its contents.  It’s no sizable amount of loot by any means, but it’s not half-bad for your first haul. Some gemstones that are admittedly rather small, jewelry, a few rusted cutlasses that with some elbow grease, could be restored to their former state, and some golden coins from a bygone era.

You hold some gold chains up in front of him, as if seeing what he’d look like with them on. He casts a glance down and shakes his head in disapproval. 

“I know, too gaudy, right?” you ask as you set them back into the chest. He holds up a handful of uncut diamonds, all of varying sizes, and watches as they twinkle in the sunlight. “At least we can pawn ‘em off.”

“I know someone who can fetch us a good price for them. You won’t have to worry about that,” he responds as he lets the diamonds slip back into the chest through his fingers like fat, glistening raindrops. Diamonds are almost worthless on their own, but if he sends them to a jeweler to be cut and polished and perhaps turned into jewelry, then perhaps he can squeeze out a bit of value from them… Or perhaps he should just leave them the way they are, given her hobby for finding true gems in the rough. 

He finds a string of pearls and after a moment for inspection, tosses them over to you.

“Here. Keep these. You’ll look good in ‘em.”

“Then at least keep one or two of those gold chains as well,” you say as you clasp it shut around your neck. Aventurine shakes his head again, laughing snarkily.

“Nah. Not my taste. Not gaudy enough.”

“That’s what I said earli- wait, not gaudy enough?”

He meets your disbelieving expression with an innocent one and a shrug of his shoulders.

“What? A pirate captain’s gotta look the part. The more in-your-face, the better.”

There’s someone already waiting for you when you return to land to pawn off your treasure. According to Aventurine, she owns one of the most prosperous pawn shop chains out there and always fetches a fair price for her customers, so long as they have something equally valuable to give her in return. 

“Just remember to always address her as ‘Lady Bonajade’ and nothing else. She doesn’t take too kindly to those who don’t have manners,” he whispers to you as you weave your way between the crowded streets to the pawn shop’s address. 

“Sounds like an interesting person,” you whisper back. “Should I be scared?”

He scoffs. “Not unless you’re looking to trade something beyond our treasure. Just don’t say anything rash. Let me handle it.”

The pawn shop is tucked away in a corner of town that sees few people. The exterior is surprisingly well-maintained for this part of town and a sign reading “Bonajade Exchange” in elegant violet cursive lettering hangs above the door. You can’t see into the shop’s windows and you can’t hear any activity from inside either. Upon pushing the heavy door open, you’re greeted with the chime above tinkling at your arrival and the scent of heavy perfume cloying your nose. It smells heavily of florals and incense, with a hint of smoke present. The candle flames waver and flicker as the door shuts and you take a moment to look around the shop. The heavy velvet curtains across the windows are drawn, letting only a small sliver of sunlight in. The only other source of lighting is the candles scattered throughout that illuminate the treasures displayed almost carelessly throughout the store. Polished and cut gemstones lie in display cases alongside gold bars and jewelry. Weapons of all sorts are hung along the walls alongside maps and thick, aged atlases on the bookshelves. It’s silent, save for the faint crackling of waxen flames, until an unfamiliar and elegant voice rings out from behind the curtain all the way in the back. 

“Welcome to Bonajade Exchange. Who are you? And what do you seek?”

There’s a moment of silence that follows, as if the speaker has recognized who you are. A candle is lit behind the curtain and you can make out the silhouette of a woman rising to her feet. 

“Oh, it’s you. We meet again, Aventurine.”

There’s a smile in her voice as she brushes the curtain aside and you get your first look at the owner of the shop. A wide-brimmed black hat obscures half of her face with a pale blue eye peeking out at you. She wears a white dress that’s undoubtedly made of silk or some other costly fabric with a dark blue corset. The silver and jade jewelry she wears (is that where she gets her name from?) clink pleasantly against each other alongside her heels, accompanied by a walking stick clicking against the wooden floor as she walks. As she approaches, you can pick up on her perfume of white florals and red wine. 

She comes to a stop and her eyes rake over you both, lingering on you especially. You catch a hint of something in her slitted pupils, like she knows something you don’t.

“I haven’t seen you before. I’m Lady Jade, the owner of this place. Are you a first-time customer to the Bonajade Exchange?”

Her voice is low and almost a whisper that has you hanging onto her every word. It’s as smooth as the silk used for her dress but there’s an almost unnatural hiss to her words, not unlike that of a snake’s. Her voice is also vaguely snake-like too- the way certain words are stretched out, the weirdly sharp pronunciation of consonants clashing with the almost syrupy vowels that tempt you to lower your defenses, the lack of cadence- all make you unconsciously be on guard. Under her chilling gaze, you feel yourself strangely clamming up and it’s all you can do to nod mutely. She hums and leans in closer, examining you head to toe. You feel like an item being offered up for auction yourself right now…

“And who might you be, lovely lady?”

You’re surrounded by ice.

“Nurse (Name)... Lady Bonajade,” you say, hurriedly adding her title at the end after remembering Aventurine’s advice from earlier. She smiles approvingly, a cold and benevolent thing. 

“You’re a good child who knows their manners. Alas, the same couldn’t be said for the man next to you when I first-”

Aventurine coughs. Jade stops talking, but the mirth still lingers in her eyes. A purple snake appears out of seemingly nowhere, winding around her shoulders and up her forearm before rearing its head at you. Its tongue flicks out to taste the air and it leans toward you before she gently pushes its head back. 

“Don’t mind it. It’s too curious for its own good at times,” she says offhandedly. Her baby blue irises drift toward the plain wooden crate sitting behind Aventurine and the beginnings of a smirk tug at the corners of her glossy lips. 

“Have you brought something valuable for me?”

Aventurine beckons you over and after a bit of effort, you pry open the lid to reveal the contents of the treasure you found. Jade strides forward and stops before the crate, examining it with interest.

“Look at that, you’ve finally found your first treasure. Where was it found?”

She raises an eyebrow and a hint of skepticism crosses her expression when Aventurine tells her the spot. 

“That island has been combed through countless times by other pirates. I find your claim hard to believe.”

Atlases and ancient records are brought out and she finally seems to believe him after cross-referencing the embossing on the back of a coin with a legend from that island. Just as you think you’re starting to get a grasp of the situation, a flurry of financial terms fly over your head as they argue over the market value of the items and how much cash you can walk away with today. 

… You’re way out of your comfort zone now. You’re a nurse, not a businessperson, for Aeon’s sake!

An agreement seems to be reached between the two of them. Jade readjusts her gloves and after calling some men over from the back, they begin going through the treasures and separating them into piles. Meanwhile, Aventurine turns his attention back to you.

“Fifty-fifty split.” You make the first move. 

Aventurine scoffs. “Absolutely not. Eighty-twenty at least.”

“Who do you think you are?”

“The captain, of cour-”

“Self-proclaimed,” you retort. “Doesn’t bear much weight with only a crew of two and each of us handling the work of at least five men. Seventy-thirty split since you want to be stingy.”

“Still too little.”

Your eyes narrow in irritation while his smug smirk never wavers.

“Seventy five-twenty five.”

“Fifty five-forty five.”

“Is that really any different from your initial offer of a fifty-fifty split?”

“That’s a five percent increase.”

“Yeah, only five percent.”

Jade chuckles from where she leans against the counter. The treasure has been fully cleared out and taken elsewhere. All that remains is an empty crate on the ground. 

“A five percent increase isn’t as narrow of a margin as you would think it is. Right now, that might not seem like much, but in the future when you start discovering more valuable and rarer treasures…”

She yawns and covers her mouth with a delicate hand. 

“Who knows? You could be looking at a gain of at least a couple thousand.”

Aventurine clicks his tongue and turns back to you. There’s one last offer you have before you give up and walk away. A new life in this town for the time being doesn’t seem too bad… 

“Sixty-forty.”

He stills at your offer. Jade’s eyes are trained on him as she lightly fans herself with a feathered folding fan. Her snake watches the exchange with seemingly keen interest too. 

“... You drive a hard bargain just like Lady Bonajade over here,” he grumbles as he forks over a portion of the credits to you. He leaves part of it on the counter, though.

“You have an innate sense for business,” comments Jade, as you leaf through the wad of bills. “Perhaps you’d like to refine it to its fullest potential?”

“Lady Bonajade, please stop trying to recruit every promising person that walks through your door.”

“It’s not just anyone I set my eyes on. It’s only those with exceptional talent that shine like gems in the rough,” she corrects. Her gaze flicks over to you again.

“Should you ever grow tired of a life at sea and wish to attain everything you desire… you know where to find me. I have branches all over the seven seas. I’ll be patiently waiting.”

Aventurine hurriedly hands you the stack of credits he set aside earlier.

“We’re running low on supplies. I still have business to discuss with her, so why don’t you go and pick them up for me?”

You nod and leave. The door shuts behind you, and Jade’s welcoming demeanor immediately disappears as soon as the shop is plunged into darkness again. Even though the climate is temperate in this stretch of the ocean, the temperature drops considerably. Her snake comes out of hiding and openly hisses at him. This time, she does nothing to reprimand it. 

“I see you’re planning to let a considerable asset go. My best advice for you would be to not.”

Aventurine barks out a laugh and meets her cold tone with one of his own.

“Meddling in my affairs, you damned sea witch-“

“You would do well to learn some manners from them, child,” she all but snaps. “Remember, I don’t give out advice for free. When I do, it’s because I see a great return of my investment in you on the horizon. It would be in your best interest to listen.”

She hisses the last word out and her pet snake does the same. Aventurine’s heart is racing, but he shows no sign of it. 

“A businesswoman through and through,” he remarks dryly. “Don’t think I didn’t notice how you called them an asset.”

“Oh? As if you see them any better than I do. At least I recognize their value. You, on the other hand, have seen them as a nuisance this whole time.”

She sighs. “Such potential headed straight to ruin under your care. It’s quite a waste. Perhaps I should take them under my wing instead, the same way I did with you… Better yet, why don’t I put them through the same refinement process the way I did with you? It’ll be a valuable learning experience for you both.”

Aventurine bristles, and Jade smirks, knowing she has the upper hand now. He’s reminded that just like that, Jade can take away everything he’s fought for. And shape the rest of your life to what she has envisioned.

“You will have them remain as a crewmate upon your ship. Don’t think I’m unaware of how your wounds are coming along. This is in your best interest as much as it is mine. Understood?”

He numbly nods. Jade hums happily and pats him on the shoulder.

“Good child. I expect even greater things from the two of you combined.”

There’s a knock at the front and the door swings open. The sudden brightness of the sun makes him squint, but he can see you standing there with several boxes behind you and some burly men carrying them.

“Captain, I picked up all our supplies. Is there anything else you need me to handle?”

“No, tell them to take them back to the ship. Wait there. I’m almost finished here.”

You nod and the door closes again. Jade turns to him with a knowing look in her eyes as she pulls away from the counter to head to the back again. 

“Captain,” she repeats with a teasing lilt. 

“Stop that,” he grumbles. She checks the time and barely spares him a glance over her shoulder as she retreats behind the curtain again. 

“The time for conversation has ended. Go now. It isn’t polite to keep your partners waiting for any longer than necessary.”

Just as he’s about to head out the door, he’s stopped by her again.

“Don’t disappoint me now, child.”

The only response she gets is the door slamming shut. 

He finds you waiting by the ship as instructed. You don’t even get the chance to ask him what happened as he pushes past you roughly and hoists the sails. Wordlessly, you weigh the anchor and as you set sail, Aventurine finds himself more thankful than ever for your ability to read the room. 

Yes, he barely tolerates you. He never wanted a second person aboard to begin with. But anything is better than catching Jade’s attention. From personal experience, it takes a very special kind of person to stay one move ahead in her games and he knows you aren’t cut from that cloth. Most people aren’t. You’d maybe hold out for a bit with your hidden wit, but you’d inevitably be offered up as a loan in her many dealings, getting passed around from ship to ship as a highly sought-after medic until you’d work yourself into an early grave. Only then would she lose interest and only because your market value would be at zero. 

His injuries have been healing nicely, but he still needs your care. He makes up his mind to let you stay on his ship for the time being. At least until Jade’s interest in you has died out or until his injuries are completely healed. Whichever one comes first. 

And that initial condition is forgotten about too. Jade’s interest in you never wanes and his scars have faded, but that’s not the reason why he lets you stay. You’re quite the handy person, proving yourself to be skilled in tasks outside of medicine. You surprise him with your skill in carpentry and business, although he already knows about the latter thanks to Jade. He’s a horrible cook, but you manage to save yourselves from starvation with your talent in the kitchen. 

Aventurine begrudgingly admits that you’re also fun to be around as time goes on. You’re quite the charming storyteller with a never-ending trove of stories to share. Many of your nights are shared together under the starry skies with a tankard of rum in hand as he listens to your animated and slightly slurred narration of stories you penned earlier that day, or accounts about your former life in a port town and the… interesting experiences you’ve had. 

“Interesting” is putting things lightly, he decides one night after you described how you chased off some unsavory pirates looking to rob your office of valuable medical supplies with a saw and a kitchen knife. And chased off? More like scared half to death.

He also learns that you’re musically gifted as well. He’s off pawning off your latest treasures while you wander around after gathering necessary supplies as per usual. You had agreed to meet back on the ship but he instead finds you standing in front of a music store, eyeing the instruments they have on display in the window.

“You play?” he asks as he approaches your side.

“Yeah,” you respond without taking your eyes off the window. “Was how I made money before I became a certified nurse. I’d take a gig every night at the local tavern and see how much money a crowd of drunk men was willing to throw at me.”

“And?”

“You’d be surprised. If there’s one thing pirates are good at, it’s getting drunk and throwing their earnings at the first pretty thing they see after months at sea.”

“Do you still want to play?”

You tear your eyes away from the display to meet his gaze for a second, before looking away again.

“... Part of me misses it. Just a bit.”

“...”

You leave the store with a skip in your step and the nicest violin they had for sale in your hands, courtesy of your captain. Music now drifts through the ship and sometimes you’ll perform what you’ve been practicing for him after dinner. He’ll clap along, but you notice he never sings or even hums along… 

You have company now as well. Long after you’ve weighed the anchor, you discover a stowaway onboard in the form of a black cat tearing through your food stockpiles. 

“You thief!” you exclaim as you lift it by the scruff and hold it up to eye level. It’s tiny… is it a kitten or just malnourished? It meows pitifully and licks the finger you extend after cautiously sniffing it, a little sliver of pink peeking out and scraping against your skin.

The poor thing is… kind of… cute.

“Oh? What’s this?” comes an irritatingly familiar voice behind you. You spin around to see the familiar visage of your captain smiling down at the cat in your hands with amusement. “A stowaway, eh?”

“I caught this little thief digging through our rations. Captain, what do you suggest we do?”

He raises his eyebrows in feigned shock. A hand comes up to stroke his chin as he thinks.

“A heinous crime,” he proclaims with drama dripping from his words. “A fitting punishment for a crime is needed.”

“Your verdict?”

“The cat can put itself to good use by staying aboard our ship and hunting down mice. Cats are also a symbol of good luck on ships, you know.”

Without further ado, he swoops in and snatches the cat out of your hands. It purrs loudly as he strokes its cheeks. 

Didn’t take much convincing for him to fold, you think as you scratch its chin. It closes its eyes and its ears twitch. 

“Shouldn’t we give it a name? Captain, any suggestions?”

A big mistake on your part.

“How does the name Doubloon sound?”

“... Doubloon?”

Aventurine sets the cat down and tosses a gold coin out there. The cat immediately goes running after it, green eyes wide and pupils dilated. It pounces on the coin and tussles with it, biting on the metal like its prey.

“Never mind. It’s fitting. Doubloon it is.”

It’s nice, he admits. He has a handy crewmate who is capable of all sorts of tasks and can deal with his antics, surprisingly. He decides to let you stay aboard indefinitely now. And the cat is a nice bonus too. 

Your captain isn’t half-bad company either. He’s still just as annoying as the day you met him, even more so if possible since you’ve gotten to know him. He’s an insufferable flirt, mainly toward you, but also toward others when he wants something. He’ll whisper teasing remarks in your (their) ears, all meant to get under your skin and have you (them) right where he wants. Teasing kisses on your (their) hands and cheeks are commonplace. (Who does he see when he kisses and charms those around him? You or them?) He has a raging gambling addiction, perfectly demonstrated by how he splurged on a poker table and a roulette wheel after only a few discovered treasures. (It doesn’t help how you keep losing every time he challenges you for a round or two.) He never opens up about his past even though you’ve all but spilled your life story to him, from childhood till now. He’ll do as he pleases without warning you beforehand, giving you a scare when he decides to bet his life at a casino or venture deeper than he should into a jungle on a hunch that “there’s more hidden treasure to be found just ahead!”

(You later scold him for his suicidal tendencies while bandaging his wounds with more force than necessary, reminding him that you can hold your own in a fight too! Newly acquired treasure sits just outside the door to the infirmary and he’s beaming all the while, so any hope of changing his mind fizzles out.)

But for all his shortcomings, he makes for a good captain. When confronted by a much larger pirate crew that thinks you’re easy pickings, he first pushes you to safety before diving in headfirst. He distributes treasure fairly and recognizes the value you hold as a medic, always ensuring you have more than enough allotted credits to restock on medicine at every port town. You never find yourself wanting for anything and your days are peaceful. You can sleep in as late as you want and you always have plenty to eat and drink. The ship’s supply of alcohol is always well-stocked with your favorites. You’re richer than ever before and money is of no worry to you now.

The ship also gets several upgrades. After every successful treasure hunt, she gets renovated and upgraded. More masts, an additional sail, a shiny new hull, until there was nothing left of its original structure. Aventurine now commands a true beauty of a ship, one fit for a pirate crew… and perhaps one a bit too big for her measly crew. Most of the ship’s space remains empty. But your quarters are spacious, even bigger than your old room on land. It’s filled with trinkets you’ve collected on your journey and fluffy pillows, and directly connected to the infirmary through a door to make things easy. Even a doctor on land would be envious of the conditions, with plenty of medicine stockpiled and clean from floor to ceiling.

“Shouldn’t we give her a name?” you ask as you set sail the day the last of her original foundation is stripped away. He hums and nods.

“You’re right. Got any ideas?”

“You’re the captain of this ship. You should be the one to decide, not me.”

Aventurine strokes his chin and thinks for a bit.

“How about the Lady Luck?”

“... Seriously? You picked something gambling related?”

He lazily shrugs and grins.

“I’m a gambling man through and through, darling. What else were you expecting from the likes of me?”

A single multicolored eye greets you as he tosses and flicks the poker chip he stole a while ago back and forth. The other eye is obscured by a bejeweled eyepatch and you’re the only one who knows the reason why. 

During your first clash against another pirate crew, Aventurine had shielded you from an attack and potentially saved your life. Unfortunately, he couldn’t move away in time and took a knife to the eye. You had worked tirelessly around the clock that night to save his vision, but you weren’t able to. It’s a regret you carry with you at all times now.

“You’re right,” he agrees. When he notices you staring at his eyepatch, he grins.

“Still thinking about old times? Let bygones be bygones now, (Name),” he jokes as he lifts the eyepatch up, revealing the cloudy  iris that indicates his vision loss. His words don’t have the intended effect though, and you wordlessly trail your finger down the scar cutting cleanly through the center of his brow bone to his cheekbone. He tenses a bit at the contact, but relaxes at your gentle touch after a few moments.

“Do you… ever regret what happened that night?”

“No,” he admits without any hesitation. “I may have lost my vision, but I saved my pretty nurse who stitched me back together and fretted over me afterward, and that’s enough to make a man do anything. And… well… for my eyes, let’s just say I’d rather gouge them out most of the time.”

“I won’t let you,” you state bluntly and it’s the way you say it that makes Aventurine laugh.

“Of course you wouldn’t, sweetheart. You’re my voice of reason.”

“But why? Do you not like them?”

Aventurine struggles to find the words for once and he makes a face like he’s tasted something bitter.

“… Not particularly,” he admits. There’s a scowl on his face. “They’re unnatural. Don’t tell me you’ve met another person with eyes like mine?”

“Well, that’s true, but-”

Venom creeps into his voice and his scowl deepens.

“There’s so many rumors swirling out there now. Haven’t you heard?”

“No,” you answer truthfully. Aventurine hopes you never hear any of the horrible rumors surrounding him.

You sigh and push his bangs out the way of his good eye.

“I think they’re quite pretty, actually.”

It’s supposed to be an innocent compliment. They really are pretty. Like the colors of a winter sunset, but more intense.

But to your surprise, your captain flinches at your touch and it sends a shock wave of guilt through you. He never shies away from your touch, instead always seeking it out like a spoiled house cat.

To make matters worse, he gets up and leaves. But before he does, you glimpse the expression in his eyes- guilty and defensive, like a wounded animal. The door to his quarters slams shut behind him and all you can do is stand there, frozen with shock.

“What pretty eyes. Tell me, do they shine in the dark?”

Aventurine leans against his bedroom door and quietly groans. He knows you meant it as a genuine compliment and that it was wrong of him to react the way he did, but he can’t help but wonder if you’d still think of him the same way if you knew about the story behind his eyes. Would you think of him any less? Aventurine doesn’t think he’d be able to bear it if he ever saw you look at him with hate and disgust. Or even worse, if you’d end up like everyone else, waiting for the day those eyes grew dull and lifeless.

… He’d gouge his eyes out and walk the plank if that ever happens.

He can’t stop himself from spiraling until he hears a knock at his door.

“Captain?”

He quietly laughs. You always did have a knack for showing up at the perfect time.

The door cracks open, and he sees you standing there with a worried and guilty expression. It makes him feel even worse. It’s not your fault. You wouldn’t have known because he never told you, and he was hoping it’d stay that way, but it looks like he won’t be able to take the coward’s way out on this one.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I didn’t realize my words would affect you that much.”

“It’s alright. I know you meant it as a compliment. There’s nothing to apologize for.”

You narrow your eyes at him in confusion.

“Then why…?”

Aventurine lets out a resigned sigh and steps out onto the deck again, suddenly finding his quarters stuffy.

“It’s a long story. But would you like to hear?”

“I have plenty of time.”

Sitting side by side on the deck that night, he tells you everything about his past that he’s willing to reveal. Some parts have a clever twist that hides the truth while others have been outright omitted. But it’s the closest version of his backstory that he can share without coming clean, and he’s not ready for that- not yet, at least. 

“I’ve failed in this aspect of being captain,” he admits as silence blankets the air after his story. “I’ve been keeping too many secrets from you.”

“Captain, everyone’s got their own skeletons in their closets. I know and trust you well enough by now to understand that if you’ve been keeping something secret from me, it’s because you’re not ready to share it, and I respect that.”

You sigh and look up at the stars overhead. It’s a perfectly clear night with mild winds and calm seas.

“… It’s just that one day, I do wish you’d open up more. We’ve been with each other since day one and I’ve told you everything there is to know about me. It would be nice to know a bit more about you.”

He swallows nervously.

“And what if doing so makes me a bad person?”

You fix him with that stare that makes his spine tingle uncomfortably. It’s the look you give him whenever you suspect he’s lying during checkups and you’re prying for the real answer.

“… Well, we’re pirates after all. We’re not exactly good people, are we?”

He can’t help the laugh of relief that escapes him.

“Yeah, you’re right. We aren’t.”

Aventurine also likes to… spoil you, to put it lightly. As your finds become more valuable, the amount of credits he spends on you grows. Clothes are a common gift. Thin silks that feel like you’re wearing nothing, plush furs to drape yourself in, heavy down-stuffed winter coats for ventures up north, and frilly dresses that are a better fit for royalty in your eyes are all sent your way. It’s not an uncommon sight to return to the ship and see several men struggling under the weight of all his purchases while you were busy restocking. It gets to a point where you tell him to stop because your closet is overflowing, but he never listens. “It’s the least you deserve,” is what he always says. “Anything for my beloved nurse that has stuck with me through thick and thin!” At least half of the space in your formerly spacious quarters is now occupied by overflow from your closet.

You also get an upgrade to your uniform around this time. Before, it was whatever you had lying around, but now you have a dedicated set of dresses and pinafore aprons, as well as a nurse’s cap to top it all off. 

Cosmetics are also another common gift. He’ll constantly gift you lipsticks with the request to try them all on or expensive perfumes he knows you’ll like. He even gets you an elaborate vanity at one point to store everything. It’s a beautiful, heavy thing made from bronze and requires the strength of four men to carry. There’s a large mirror in the center with ornate molding surrounding it and two smaller ones flanking it. You’ll often see Aventurine leaning against the doorframe through one of them, watching you with a bemused look as you get ready in the morning. 

(That is, until you begin throwing pillows at his head and yelling at him to get out.)

But you begin to notice some strange things about your captain as time goes on. You’ll struggle with a chunk of meat during dinner while his unnaturally sharp teeth will tear through it with ease. They’re especially noticeable whenever he smiles, genuine or not. The large, sharp canines gleam under the sun. At one point, you asked if he purposefully sharpens them, partially as a joke, but also out of genuine curiosity. He had thrown his head back and laughed, but he didn’t answer your question. Sometimes, late at night when he thinks you’re asleep, you’ll peek out from behind the door and see the ghostly fire dancing around his blue fingertips. Aventurine’s outfits get progressively more gaudy and flashy as time goes on, and one thing he adds to his wardrobe rotation are metal nail guards. But even so, you notice his fingernails peeking out from underneath that are better described as claws. Heavy gold chokers and necklaces stacked on top of each other are an obligatory part of his look but on the rare occasion he decides to ditch the weight and opts for a high-collared linen shirt instead, you swear those are scales you see peeking out beneath the slipping collar after a long day. 

But you merely look the other way. As long as Aventurine remains a good captain, you don’t care who- or what- he is. 

It’s around this time you get the third addition to the crew as well. 

You’re docked at a pristine port town, which is a rarity to come by. White houses with blue roofs line the cliff sides. The streets are white too and the stone used to form them has been worn down and smoothed out by years of wear and tear. The warm air smells sweet and salty and vaguely of hay. In the town square, it transforms into something heavier and richer. The flowering trees blooming throughout make the air feel almost thick, while the persistent smell of sunbaked herbs and the local cuisine follow you everywhere from the restaurants and food stalls.

Aventurine is pawning off your latest finds at yet another Bonajade Exchange branch (??? Seriously, how many branches does this pawn shop have?) while you’re enjoying yourself in the town square, having already picked up on supplies and sent them back to the ship. The town comes to life at night. There’s a live band playing on a stage set up a few minutes prior with people dancing and drinks being passed around openly even though you’re in the middle of the town square and not in a tavern. You indulge a little, but eventually decide you’ve had enough for the night after a few too many men were too insistent on buying you a drink even after you’ve declined their offers. 

The rocking motion of the ship would make most people nauseous, especially someone that just had a few drinks, but you’ve long since gotten used to being at sea. Solid ground underfoot feels unfamiliar now and you let out a content sigh once you’re finally back in your quarters. You get settled in for the night as you wait for your captain to return and proudly show off his earnings from a night of gambling, like he always does. A candle is lit, filling your space with warmth and light as you resume reading a book that Aventurine had picked up for you earlier today.

You’re not sure how long you read for, but when you next look up, you’re shocked at how dark it is outside. A quick glance at your candle that’s almost burnt-out on the nightstand tells you it’s been at least a few hours- and yet, no sight or sound of your captain onboard. It’s silent, save for the sloshing of the waves against the hull outside and the crackling of the wick’s flame as it fights for survival. 

Shouldn’t he be back by now?

Curious and concerned, you go searching. Knowing him, he’s either drinking or gambling the night away. With some guidance from the locals, you scout out every tavern and casino in town for him. A quick peek into the windows or door is enough for you- there’s no sign of his blond hair or ostentatious pirate hat anywhere. As an added bonus, catcalls follow you everywhere and it’s enough to make you want to punch your captain in the face when you do see him. 

After a while of running around, you’ve just about had it. You’re exhausted, it’s late, and there’s still no sign of him. Where the hell could he have run off to now?

At your wit’s end now, you look at your surroundings and realize you’ve ended up at a university. You do remember seeing a map of the town the day you docked and recall a university in the northernmost reaches of the town limits. This is probably it. And from the looks of it, it’s not that big. Just a few buildings make up the entire campus.

One thing you notice walking around is a flight of stairs leading up the cliffside to what you assume to be an observatory at the top. It’s not off-limits, so you take your chances and ascend the stairs. It’s a clear night and you’re sure you can get a great view of the town from here. But as you climb, you hear voices drifting down. One of them sounds vaguely like… your captain? 

You pick up the pace. The stairs are steep and uneven in some areas. Some steps are wet from what you presume is rainwater and you almost fall on several occasions. (The things you do for this man! He should be thankful that you’re always there to ensure his sorry ass stays in line.)

You’re not sure what you were expecting once you reached the observatory, but it certainly wasn’t… this. You see your captain alright, but he’s pressed against the railing that’s the only barrier between him and a long fall down to the turbulent waters beneath. A man with violet hair who you’ve never seen before faces him with his back toward you, pressing a gun against Aventurine’s chest. Strangely enough, Aventurine doesn’t look terrified. In fact, he seems to take delight in the precarious balance his life hangs in, even going so far as to press the barrel of the gun closer to his chest with that same taunting grin on his face all the while. His cheeks are flushed, but whether that be from alcohol or… something else is up for debate. You’re already used to his suicidal tendencies, but just seeing his face after the events of today pisses you off even more. 

“Come on, doc. It’ll be worthwhile, I promise. You surely can’t be satisfied in a place like this, am I right?”

“Captain.”

That blissful look on his face vanishes in an instant, replaced by realization and pure fear. The other man turns around and golden eyes meet your ticked-off gaze. You brush the stranger aside and storm over to Aventurine, who looks more terrified of your wrath than any weapon. 

“So this is where you’ve been this entire time. Did you lose track of time or something? Because it’s been hours since you were supposed to return! I was running around town, looking like an idiot trying to find you.”

He holds his hands up like he can defend himself from the onslaught coming his way. You jab your finger at his chest and he pouts as he looks away shamefully. 

“(Name), at least hear me out first!” he whines. When you raise an eyebrow, he points over at the other man, who clicks his tongue and pointedly looks away. 

“I found ourselves a potential third crewmate and was trying to convince him to join! But it doesn’t seem to be working… Care to try your hand?”

“That’s just another way of saying you’re pawning off the hard work to me!” you complain. And yet you humor his demands anyway.

“You are?” 

He hmphs and rolls his eyes. Already, he pisses you off. 

“Dr. Veritas Ratio, teacher and scholar. And you are?”

“Nurse (Name), working aboard the Lady Luck under the command of our Captain Aventurine.”

“... Said captain is on the verge of collapsing from alcohol poisoning behind you.”

It’s true. He’s clinging to the railing for dear life, the drinks from earlier catching up to him and hitting like a sledgehammer, you imagine. 

“Aeons, how much did you drink earlier?” you grumble as you hoist one arm over your shoulder and awkwardly drag him along. He merely hums and buries his nose into your hair, tripping over his two feet as he attempts to walk. 

“Mm… You smell nice, (Name). Like the new perfume I got you… hehe…”

“Answer the question, Captain.”

He opts to press his nose into your hair and inhale.

“Oh, not that much. Just… y’know… a couple tankards of beer.”

Meaning that he’s definitely had at least five of them and counting.

“… I’ve heard everything I needed to hear.”

Thankfully, Dr. Ratio seems to be adept at reading social cues and assists you with helping him down the stairs, albeit slowly and awkwardly. You invite him onto the ship and after taking a look around the medical quarters, he makes himself comfortable at your desk. He seems quite pleased, so you take it as some sort of roundabout compliment as you busy yourself with getting your captain to bed. You flip Aventurine over into the recovery position, who flops around aimlessly like a rag doll. Soon enough, you hear him faintly snoring. When you return, Dr. Ratio has taken one of the books shelved on your desk and began thumbing through it. 

“You have medical knowledge?” you ask once the door behind you is shut. He barely looks up from the book and continues flipping through its pages. 

“I have the title of ‘doctor’ for a reason.”

A doctor. An actual doctor. One step above you, a nurse. He had access to an education far out of your reach, and you had fought tooth and nail for yours. 

You can’t help but feel the first pangs of jealousy sink their claws into you and you avert your eyes, humiliated. What purpose would you have aboard the ship should he join as a doctor? What’s stopping your captain from deciding the man in front of you can do everything you can plus more and throwing you off the ship? Granted, any medical professional, doctor or not, is highly sought-after on pirate ships and you believe your captain is above tossing you aside after you’ve already proven your loyalty to him. But the knowledge that he will always be regarded as one step above you, seen as more valuable, is enough to leave a bitter taste in your mouth. 

“Overthinking things, are we?”

He meets your gaze with a sharp look of his own.

“Don’t give me that look. Only a fool who wallows in their own ignorance would do such a thing.”

You hadn’t realized you were glaring at him until now.

“Sorry,” you half-heartedly apologize, taking a deep breath to relieve the tight ball of anger in your chest. You just met this man; you know it’s not right to be pissed at him over something like this, but you can’t help it. You massage your temples and gesture for him to continue. 

“I am well aware that you are the longtime nurse aboard this ship, and while I have no doubt you’re just as ignorant as the other fools who proclaim themselves to be intelligent and respected in their fields-“

Is he insulting me to my face?!

“- I will acknowledge that you are at least deserving of your title for keeping you and this ship’s captain alive all this time. A commendable feat considering your lack of a higher education. I thus have no intention of stripping you of your role.”

… Well, that’s your biggest concern addressed. Although, was the remark about your lack of education really necessary?

Now no longer worrying about whether or not you’d find yourself back at that place you swore to leave behind, you relax.

“Then what is your intention?”

He huffs and dramatically snaps the book shut.

“I am first and foremost an educator! My mission is to spread knowledge across the world until ignorance is a cured disease. And yet, the board of trustees at the university are doing everything they can to get me to stay. What a pointless endeavor!”

You cast a doubtful glance at him.

“... But you’re a professor. A fresh batch of students is a fresh batch of minds to educate. Isn’t academia where you thrive?”

Dr. Ratio huffs, like he’s having to explain something repeatedly to a child that doesn’t understand. 

“Zero points! How can I possibly be content with my situation, knowing there’s a whole world of ignorance out there just waiting to be fixed? Besides, we don’t get many applicants per year.”

“Would you like a way out then?”

After a beat of silence, he sets your book down and turns to face you fully for the first time that night. You take in his ruby-rimmed golden eyes, the color of the sunset a few hours ago, that hold the weight of a genius’s expectations behind them. 

“Are you offering me a position aboard the ship?”

“That depends. What skills do you have?”

He puffs his chest out proudly.

“I have eight doctorates in the fields of biology, medicine, natural theology, philosophy, physics, mathematics, engineering… oh, and astronomy. You would be hard-pressed to not glean some value.”

That last part catches your attention.

“Astronomy, you say?”

We are in need of a dedicated navigator… Aventurine can’t be at the helm 24/7.

You turn your attention back to Dr. Ratio, who meets your gaze with a tilt of his head and a raised brow.

“Something on your mind?”

“Have you ever tried your hand at being a ship’s navigator?”

He doesn’t look surprised at your question. It’s like he was anticipating it.

“I can’t say I have,” he admits. “But with my knowledge, it should be child’s play.”

“Don’t say that about something you’ve never tried,” you caution. “If you’re really interested, meet me back here at the docks this time tomorrow night. We’ll see how you do.”

The next night, he’s waiting at the docks with several bags lying beside him. Hm, he must’ve packed all his belongings for a life at sea now. Aventurine whistles at him as you lead him aboard.

“Looks like you’ve made up your mind already, doc. Told you so.”

If looks could kill, Aventurine would be at the bottom of the sea right now. 

Once out on the deck, you hand him a sailing chart. Without a hitch, he dives right in. His spyglass is aimed at the sky as he examines the stars and their positions. With your help in hoisting the sails and Aventurine in steering the ship toward the right direction, you’re on track to your next destination.

“Not bad,” you praise. “You’ll need to learn how to steer the ship and how to hoist the sails, but you can learn that in due time.”

“That settles it then, I suppose,” comes Aventurine’s voice from behind. The soft glow of a tea candle flickering within a lantern fills the space as he steps into view.

“Welcome aboard, Ratio.”

He proves to be quite a skilled navigator, and you’re thankful you managed to snatch him up before any other pirate crew could. Even without a sailing chart or in stormy weather, he still manages to ensure you don’t veer off course. It’s truly remarkable, really, as even sailing from north to south is hardly a challenge for him.

He settles into the empty room next door to your quarters. Bookshelves line the walls from floor to ceiling, with several more stacked on his desk and bed. It perpetually smells like clean linens and chalk from the stash he burns through every week solving whatever problem piques his interest, written out on the rolling blackboard by the windows- or through hurling them at your captain with terrifying strength and speed. Sometimes, you’ll stop and stare at the board for a bit, only to give up after realizing you can’t understand a lick of it. It’s usually something physics or math related. If he’s in the room as well, he’ll try explaining it to you, but it all ends up flying over your head anyway. 

Soon enough, he lets you call him by his first name without the title out in front- a privilege not even your captain has. When not found on the deck, he can either be found reading and solving problems in his quarters, or hovering by your side.

“Rum mixed with… lime juice?”

You’re in the kitchen, surrounded by supplies. A new shipment of rum and citruses sits in the corner and you’re going through them, preparing the crew’s rations of alcohol.

You nod and toss the rinds over your shoulder into the garbage.

“Stagnant water on ships is a gold mine for diseases and pests. Alcohol is usually a safer alternative, and while the captain and I painstakingly ensure the water onboard is safe to drink…”

You shrug and take an experimental sip of the mixture. The strong burn of alcohol all but scorches your throat on the way down, but it’s a sensation you’ve long grown accustomed to, even liking it by now. The addition of lime makes you purse your lips and raise your brows approvingly. It would be even better with some sugar but alas, it’s a very costly material to transport, even by Aventurine’s standards.

“I suppose there are some vices that just can’t be shaken, like a pirate’s love for alcohol. The lime also prevents scurvy. I bet they don’t teach you this in med school, do they?”

Veritas begrudgingly shakes his head.

“We’re taught about the dangers of scurvy and waterborne disease obviously, but never resort to such… crude solutions.”

You laugh and push a glass toward him.

“Well, this is your life now, and you chose it. Better get used to how things are done around here.”

“I’m not saying I have anything against your methods, as crude as they may be,” he scoffs as he eyes the drink in front of him. You think you see a hint of nervousness in his eyes and smirk. Perhaps it’s Aventurine’s influence rubbing off onto you, but you spot a perfect opportunity to tease him.

“Drink up. Cheers,” you say, raising your glass in a toast. “It’s not half-bad, I promise.”

He lifts the glass to his lips and takes a hesitant sip before sputtering dramatically, face scrunched up in an amusing expression of disgust. You all but cackle at his reaction and down half your glass in one fell swoop.

“Liar,” is all he can manage out as he chugs water to chase away the burn of the drink.

“You’ll be singing the same tune I am in just a few months’ time. Just wait and see, I guarantee it.”

“Or that’s just your alcoholic tendencies speaking.”

“Never claimed I wasn’t one,” you respond with an eye roll as you finish the last bit of your drink. He looks at you with an expression of faux disgust as you leave, then looks down at his drink again as soon as the door closes. With a sudden burst of effort, he downs all of it. Veritas feels like he’s about to start breathing fire, but he holds it in for a few seconds before shakily exhaling.

“… It’s passable, I suppose. Five points.”

It’s some time after this that you welcome your fourth member aboard.

You’re docked at the only port to a mining town that, to your eyes, is on the verge of becoming a ghost town. It’s not winter yet, so the town hasn’t completely frozen over and snowed in (which is common this far north) but it’s still so bitingly cold. Supposedly, this is the warmest it gets year-round, but you still find yourself shivering underneath all your layers as you pace back and forth to prevent your limbs from turning into icicles. Even Aventurine, who likes to drink and gamble the day away after docking, keeps things on land as short as possible before running back to the ship to warm up. (Not like there are any taverns or casinos in a place this miserable anyway.)

You’re only here because there’s a severe storm blocking your way and this was the only port that you could dock at. All others, including the one you had left, were too far away to even consider rerouting to. Aventurine is absolutely miserable at the situation and you’re no better. Veritas is probably the worst of you three, being even more snippy than usual and holing up in his quarters. 

One thing you notice is the lack of trees. According to the locals, severe runoff from mining activities has led to trees spontaneously igniting from the industrial chemicals in the soil, leaving only burnt sticks behind. It’s quite sad, you think. The people here can’t even appreciate nature’s beauty. 

Another thing you noticed as soon as you docked are the heavy respirators the residents wear. There are newer models on the market that are lighter, smaller, and just plain better, but the ones you see look like metal helmets from times of war rather than medical devices. They’re old, archaic and clunky. They cover the entire face and you can hear every labored inhale and exhale through the little grate in front of the mouthpiece. 

It’s also so, so gray and dreary. A thick smog blankets the town thanks to the smokestack belching chemicals into the air. There’s a persistent acrid stench sticking to your clothes and skin and hair that no matter how hard you scrub, just won’t go away. Your throat feels scratchy and you’re always coughing and soon enough, you’re forced to don the same respirator everyone else does. You’re uncomfortably hot under the full face of metal and your neck is sore from its weight, while the vision in your left eye is always tinged red because of the glass used for the lens. You only wear it when you have to leave the ship, which is almost never. Aventurine laughed at how stupid you looked at first but before long, he was subjected to the same miserable fate as you.

“I can’t wait till we finally leave this place.”

“Tell me about it.”

On the day before you’re scheduled to finally depart, you decide to explore a bit further than you usually do. You hitch a ride with a resident past the outskirts of the town to the residential area. The pollution out here is significantly less, but still dangerously high by all standards. There’s actually vegetation out here! (Sparse blades of grass that haven’t been cut in ages and come up to your kneecaps. The soil is strangely wet and sticky and you wince after seeing the clumps of mud sticking to your shoes, even more so after recalling the extensive soil pollution plaguing the town.) Rows of identical concrete blocks are stacked alongside each other, meant to be bare-bones apartments. Faded slogans are painted onto the sides of them (“peace to the world!” is a common one you see) and there are small playgrounds out in front situated here and there.

It’s where you also find a girl around your age. She sits with her back to you as she hunches over something. It’s the bits of white hair peeking out from under the respirator that get your attention. You nudge the resident you’re walking alongside and look over at her.

“Who’s she?”

“Ah, that’s little Jelena. Though, she prefers to be called Topaz these days. Don’t ask me why.”

“What’s she working on?”

“Who knows? Beats me. All I know is she’s always mumbling something about leaving this place. Utter foolishness, if you ask me. Once you’re here, you’re never getting out.”

You stay put in your tracks examining her. She doesn’t seem to have noticed you, continuing with whatever she’s working on. The resident looks at you strangely but after a rushed and awkward wave goodbye, leaves.

“... Miss Topaz?”

She jolts and looks over her shoulder at you. Her respirator obscures her face but her posture is guarded and defensive. You can’t blame her.

“Who’re you? And how do you know my name?”

“A resident passing by told me.”

She takes a quick glance at you from head to toe.

“You’re not from here, are you?”

You laugh, hoping to dispel the tension and take a step forward. She looks a bit nervous, but hasn’t left yet. Good.

“What gave it away?”

“Nobody here has clothes that nice and clean. Or hair that shiny and well-maintained.”

She tugs on her own rags and choppy hair for emphasis. Sensing an opportunity, you sit down next to her and take your scarf off, wrapping it around her. Topaz jolts but stills when she feels how soft the material is. With a sudden effort, she yanks the respirator off her head and tosses it aside carelessly to bury her face further into the scarf.. The underlayer of her hair is a shockingly bright red. You match her actions and toss yours aside too. The acrid smell of polluted air hits your nose but you maintain a pleasant smile even though you want to scrunch your nose up and start coughing.  

“Keep it,” you say, patting her shoulders. She rolls the scarf fringe around between her fingers, marveling at how thick the yarn is and how it doesn’t fray immediately. “I have more clothes than I know what to do with.”

Topaz lets the scarf fall from her fingers and looks up at you behind untrimmed bangs.  

“... Who are you?”

She’s curious now. An enigmatic smile graces your face. 

“Would you like to know?”

A nod. 

“Nurse (Name), serving the Lady Luck, a vessel operated under the command of our pirate captain Aventurine.”

“... Pirates?”

Your gaze drifts to her workbook. There’s still questions in her eyes but she turns toward you a bit more to give you a better glance at what she’s working on, sensing your curiosity. A chart filled with lots of numbers and scribbled calculations all around it. 

“What’re you working on?”

“Accounting. I’m studying hard to get out of here. Everyone says I shouldn’t bother and just settle down with a husband already, but I have my sights set on something far greater than what this life can give me.”

You sympathetically hum and nod. There’s a loud squeak and something falls into your lap out of nowhere. It’s a… piglet?? Tiny for one as well. It squeals and flails around a bit in your lap until Topaz swoops in and lifts it up.

“Numby! Stop that!”

It squeals some more as Topaz continues lecturing it. You watch the exchange with a mix of confusion and concern for Topaz’s life.

“Is this… your pet?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah. This is Numby. They’re not just my pet though! They can accurately sense where riches are located and over the years, have even learned how to perform jobs related to security, debt collection, and actuarial sciences!”

The expression on your face must speak for yourself because she laughs and tosses you a gold coin. Numby squeals and flails in her arms, trying to go after it, but Topaz doesn’t budge. 

“Don’t believe me? Toss this coin out there and watch Numby go after it.”

You catch the coin deftly. Topaz covers Numby’s eyes and hands you a pocket knife. You raise an eyebrow.

“Go bury it. Give Numby a challenge. Not like it really is one, but make them jump over a hurdle or two.”

“You can use weapons?”

“Course I can.”

She looks up at the perpetually gray sky and the plumes of pollution being spewed out. 

“There’s not a lot of people here, but life is hard and sometimes people try to take out their frustrations on those around them. Crime is a lot more rampant than you’d expect in a place like this, and unless you want to be robbed completely defenseless, it’s a given to always have something on you.”

You feel like your lucky stars have aligned and all the Aeons themselves are smiling down on you. By Aventurine’s luck, this girl is everything you need all in one package! You feel like this is hardly real. 

“What weapons can you use?”

She shrugs. “Knives, mostly. They’re the most accessible around here. But I have experience with guns too. Swords as well. Nabbed them off the drunken sailors a while back to protect myself and Numby against some idiots who had the really bright idea to turn them into bacon.”

… You feel like you’re ascending right now. Everything is aligning exactly the way you need them to. 

“Stolen a few times before, eh? Looks like you’ve already got experience in piracy.”

She scowls at you and you take that as your cue to bury the coin. You choose a location that’s a few apartment blocks down from hers. The knife sinks easily into the sticky, polluted soil as you dig a little hole before burying the coin. You avoid getting any dirt on your hands, not wanting to even think about what the contamination could and would do to your skin…

“Finished,” you call out as you make your way back to her. Topaz lifts her hand from Numby’s eyes and with a slap to the rear, sends the piglet running. They run faster than you expected them to with their stubby legs and soon disappear from sight.

“They’ll be waiting for us where the treasure is. But in the meanwhile, we can walk and talk.”

The two of you begin walking side by side, this time with less tension in the air.

“What a drag it is being pressured to settle for less,” you empathize, shifting the conversation back to the earlier topic. “What do you want to be?”

“A businesswoman of sorts, climbing up the ladder until I’m sitting at the top. Then no one can tell me what to do.” Even as she walks, she still continues to work, her pencil flying across the page as she performs calculations faster than you can keep up with. 

You raise your eyebrows and let out an “ohhhhhhh” in response. A golden opportunity has presented itself. 

“Well, what do you want in life then?”

“... I suppose it’s to solve problems. There’s many of them that exist in this world and I like solving them. It makes me feel nice, knowing I’m doing something to improve people’s lives.”

“Why not a teacher or something similar then? You’re quite good at math, after all.”

She shakes her head. “Not enough jobs in education around here. The nearest school is in the neighboring town, which is over half an hour away. The nearest university is several hours away in the city. There’s no demand for education in these parts, so there’s no supply of jobs and the current positions are occupied by people who’d rather die than resign.”

She flips to the next page and dives right in. 

“But companies are always hiring, right? I heard from the sailors down at the dock that there’s a few that are rapidly growing and are in need of people. So that’s why I want to become a businesswoman. Because it’s the fastest way to achieve what I want- happiness. And that’s how a job should be.”

You drum your fingers along your arm excitedly and lean forward with a conspiratorial look on your face. Drawn in by your expression, Topaz can’t help but lean in a bit too. 

“What if I said that although I can’t land you a job at a big company, I can guarantee you riches and a chance to explore the world? You can also finally escape those annoying aunties who keep pestering you about marriage and sending men your way who you can’t even bear to look at,” you whisper, temptation and promise dripping from every word. 

Her pencil stills, she comes to a halt, and she looks at you fully for the first time. Her eyes are a brilliant purple with flecks of blue and yellow. Despite the harsh conditions surrounding her, they still retain plenty of life. Quite different from Aventurine, you think. Makes you wonder what he went through to have the life sucked out of his eyes. 

But soon enough, there’s a scowl back on her face and she begins walking again. 

“Money is a means, not an end. I may be poor, but I’m not studying out of greed. Work should make you happy. If that’s all there is to offer, then I won’t be happy and I can’t have that happening.”

“How does solving long-buried mysteries sound? It should scratch that problem-solving itch of yours.”

She hesitates and you can tell she’s starting to seriously consider your offer. You just have to keep pushing and choosing your words carefully. 

“I don’t see how piracy helps anyone though,” she says stubbornly and you mentally sigh. She really wants to know what she’s getting herself into, huh? But that’s already two of her three needs you’ve got checked off and you already have a counterargument prepared for this. 

“We only search for and discover buried treasure that no one has laid claim to and is free game for all interested pirates,” you calmly respond. “None of that town-looting business you might hear about from the sailors down at the dock. And should you wish to donate your share of money earned to philanthropic organizations or invest it elsewhere… you’re more than welcome to. We won’t stop you.”

From the look on her face, victory has already been secured. And yet, she looks uncertain. Unsure.

“But… Why me? Why little Jelena from this run-down mining town when there are so many smart, talented people out there waiting to be discovered?”

There’s a loud squeal up ahead and Numby is jumping up and down in front of the spot you had buried the coin. Topaz unearths it with the knife and pulls out the dirt-stained coin. So she was right. Even better. 

You reach your hand out to her, just like how you did when you made your offer to Aventurine and Veritas.

“Why, it’s simple. We both get what we want. You get a ticket out of here and a hefty share of our riches, while we get a capable bookkeeper who prevents our captain from gambling away too much money, plus a master gunner who’ll defend the ship from foes.”

Your hand remains extended. She stares at it, then at you disbelievingly.

“I…”

You wave the gold coin you plucked out of her gloved hands without her noticing and wave it in front of her face. 

“Every investment has its risks, right? I suppose it’s natural to want to pick the one that has the least risk involved when you’re putting down something as important and uncertain as your future as collateral. But you’re still young with plenty of time left and dreams unfulfilled. If you play it safe, you won’t be able to make a killing later on in life. My days are freer now. All of us are. And I know that freedom to do as you please is what’ll bring you that happiness you so desire.”

Silence greets you. You swallow nervously. (You hope she didn’t see it.) You’re no businessperson, but you know an opportunity when you see it. And this is one you absolutely cannot let slip through your fingers. You’re gripping the coin as tight as you can and your hands are cold and clammy beneath your gloves. 

Her shoulders begin to shake. Your hand twitches and you think you’ve somehow upset her until she begins to laugh heartily. It’s loud and free, echoing off the walls of the apartment blocks. It’s the prettiest sound you’ve heard in this whole town. 

“Wow, talk about a win-win situation! Just the way I like to go about doing business. Nurse (Name), I’ll be under your care going forward!”

She whistles for Numby, who comes running over, oinking. 

“... You’re not bringing anything else with you? We don’t have to leave immediately, you know. We still got a whole day before we leave.”

Topaz shakes her head and lifts Numby onto her shoulders. 

“Nothing worth bringing along. Besides, what’s a better way to signify a fresh start in life by leaving everything behind?”

“Not saying goodbye either?”

Her enthusiastic demeanor fades to something more solemn and her pace slows.

“... No one here supports my dreams. If they didn’t support me from the very start, they don’t deserve to see me at my proudest.”

You hitch a ride back to the docks with another resident. On the way back, Topaz nudges you in the side.

“Are you sure you aren’t a businessperson? That was a very solid offer you drafted and presented to me back there. I couldn’t have done much better myself. You’ve even got the silver tongue for success as well. Perhaps an ambassador of sorts, at the very least?”

You laugh and brush aside her compliments.

“I’m truly flattered, but I really am just a nurse onboard… oh. Right.”

“... Is something the matter?”

“It’s just… I never told our Captain that a fourth member might be joining us. Ah… he’s in for quite the surprise when we get back to the docks.”

In my defense, it’s not like I could’ve told him anyway while I was so far away from our ship… 

Her face falls. Wait, you can’t have this happening already! Not when you just convinced her to join!

“I’ll vouch for you,” you quickly reassure. “He may be annoying and difficult to work with, but he’s not unreasonable. Besides, I’ve been a crewmate for the longest. If there’s anyone he’s going to listen to, it’s me.”

You find Aventurine lounging around in his quarters when you return. He gets up to welcome you back with an eager grin and an embrace, but pauses when he sees Topaz and Numby behind you.

“Oh? Who’s this?”

You plant yourself between them.

“Topaz, meet Captain Aventurine. You’ll be working under him from this day forward.”

As per his usual nature, he merely laughs and extends his hand. Topaz firmly grasps and shakes it. 

“A new recruit,” he chuckles. “Welcome aboard the Lady Luck then. We could always use some more helping hands around here. (Name), why don’t you go show her around the ship?”

But there’s a look in his eyes that follows you into the late hours of the night, through showing her the layout of the ship and introducing her to Veritas who looked as if he couldn’t care less, and the extravagant dinner to celebrate her arrival.

You and I need to talk.

It’s only after everyone has gone to sleep that Aventurine seeks you out. Topaz is sleeping soundly in your bed and you’re leaning against the doorframe outside, waiting for him. When he does appear, the usual carefree smirk is gone, instead replaced by a more serious expression.

“Really? A new crewmate without my-”

You violently shush him.

“She’s sleeping!” you hiss. He rolls his eyes but listens all the same.

“... I’m not saying I’m doubting your ability to seek out talented people,” he begins, voice a whisper this time. “But what if she betrays us? And we’ve been just fine so far with the three of us. What can she do that we can’t?”

You roll your eyes.

“Aventurine-”

“Kakavasha.”

“What?”

His intense gaze doesn’t waver. Ghost fire sprouts from his fingertips and dances wildly around him. A wisp lands on your hand. It’s warm, pleasantly so. 

“Kakavasha. That’s my real name. Call me that, but only when we’re alone.”

“... Really? You decide to finally open up in the middle of an argument?” you grumble. “There’s a time and place for everything, y’know…”

He blinks at you innocently and you resist the urge to push him overboard. Instead, you settle for coughing and swatting the wisp of ghost fire away from you.

“... As I was saying, Captain Kakavasha, she won’t betray us.”

“A bold statement to make with such confidence. How can you say for certain?”

“Kakavasha, this girl came from nothing. You saw the state of town she grew up in. No friends, no connections, no way out. But we gave her the escape she’s been looking for. She won’t sell us out, not while she’s indebted to us.”

You hear a sudden noise behind the door and freeze. It’s silent for several more agonizing moments until you finally relax. She probably just shifted around in her sleep. You really hope she didn’t wake up or hear any of that…

“But if she decides to leave of her own accord to chase her dream further, then who are we to stop her? Of course, even if she tries to turn us in, the authorities won’t be able to catch us,” you joke, trying to ease his fears. 

Aventurine hums. He doesn’t look moved.

“So? What can she do that we can’t?”

… But he doesn’t press the prior topic any further so you assume it’s ok for now.

You beam and hold out the workbook you swiped off her earlier. 

“Captain, we’ll have a dedicated accountant on board now! Just look at this. I saw her complete this entire page in no more than five minutes! Not only is she fast, but she’s accurate! Here, check for yourself if you don’t believe me.”

Aventurine takes it and examines it with an air of disinterest surrounding him. He glances at it for a few seconds before tossing it back.

“Yeah, it’s all correct.”

“But that’s not all!” you continue. “Her little pet that’s always following her? Apparently, they’re skilled in security, debt collection, and actuarial sciences!”

The silence that follows your statement speaks for itself.

“... Don’t look at me like that.”

“Are you drunk right now, (Name)?”

“Hey!” you exclaim indignantly, before remembering that Topaz is still asleep. “I am not! I’ll admit, I was just quoting her claims but her pet is really good at detecting treasure. I buried a gold coin and they found it with no trouble. Kakavasha, imagine how useful they would be.”

“Pigs are a symbol of good luck aboard a ship…” he mumbles to himself and it’s a sign you’re a step closer to convincing him.

“... Should we introduce her to Jade?” you ask. Aventurine looks at you like you’re insane. Then, as if considering your offer, looks at your door as if seeing through it to the girl sleeping in your bed.

“I know you’re good at math and business too, but wouldn’t it be nice to have someone else equally as skilled on board? With a bit of refinement from Jade, she’ll be just as qualified as any other licensed professional out there,” you plead.

He shakes his head. “If you want me to be the bookkeeper as well, I can do that no problem. If you’re adamant about her joining, you’ll have to try harder than that.”

“You’re a pain in the ass.”

“Your pain in the ass, sweetheart.”

“Shut up and don’t call me that, especially right now,” you growl. He merely hums and smiles, his expression strangely cat-like. He wants to make things difficult for you? Fine. Time to bring out the big guns then.

“She’s skilled with weapons.”

“...”

“...”

“How skilled? And with what types?”

Checkmate. 

“Knives, mostly. But she has experience with guns and swords too.”

You can practically see the gears turning in his head and hear his thoughts. He must be thinking about the weapons piled away in the armory with no one skilled enough to use them. With Topaz on board, they’d be put to good use for once- and after enough training from her, there was nothing the crew would fear.

“... Of course, I still have to personally see what she’s capable of.”

He glances at the clock hanging above his dresser mirror. 

“I’ll see to it tomorrow morning. Tell her to meet me on the deck first thing after waking up. I’ll be testing her aim and accuracy, among other factors.”

You’re woken up the next morning by the sound of gunshots. Several of them. Thinking you’re under attack, you scramble to your feet and stumble onto the deck only to see Topaz shooting some bottles lined up on the railing- and she’s hitting every one of them. 

Aventurine takes in the sight of you in your pajamas and unbrushed hair. A snort escapes him. 

“Good morning, my lovely nurse. Did you sleep well?”

… The nerve of this man. Then again, he did warn you the night before, so it’s not like you can blame him for your own forgetfulness. 

He stops you before you can storm off though, beckoning Topaz over.

“Congratulations,” he says while clapping. “Thanks to my beloved’s recommendation and your mastery over weapons, I hereby welcome you aboard the ship as our master gunner, Topaz.”

She excitedly shakes his hand before enveloping you in a bone-crushingly tight hug.

“Thank you! I promise I won’t let you down. I’ll pay you back double- no, triple the amount of investment you’ve put in me. And I always deliver on my promises!”

Your thoughts are a whirlwind as you watch her run down to where your quarters are.

… But I never saw it as you owing me?

Aventurine’s light laughter pulls you out of your thoughts. You scowl at him as he stops before you, gently combing out the tangles in your bedhead with his fingers.

“Stop referring to me by those pet names. People are going to get the wrong idea about us.”

“Oh? I wouldn’t mind that one bit.”

“Veritas has already been giving me strange looks whenever he sees us two together. Add Jele- Topaz into the mix and I don’t think I’ll be able to handle it.”

“Handle what? Sweetheart, it’s just the four of us out on the open sea!”

He spins you around in his arms and you let yourself be dragged along.

“That’s exactly what I mean! And don’t ‘sweetheart’ me!”

“Sure, sure. Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

“You-!”

Topaz settles into the room across the hall from yours. While the space is initially barren, it quickly gets filled up thanks to you. She raids your overflowing wardrobe and takes whatever interests her periodically and half the time, you don’t even realize what she stole thanks to your captain constantly spoiling you. Cosmetics are another common victim of her theft, but it’s more noticeable, especially if it’s a perfume. Books that you’ve finished are piled up in her room and she’ll often come to you with questions about your thoughts after she’s finished reading one. Numby has their own little bed at the foot of hers and you’ll frequently see them chasing Doubloon around the deck. 

It seems that Topaz is good at everything and anything she sets her mind to, because she becomes frighteningly skilled with weapons in a short period of time. Every day, she holds lessons teaching you all how to use an array of weapons, and she’s quite the skilled teacher too. But when class isn’t in session, she can often be found out on the main deck during a sunny day, humming a tune to herself as she cleans out the many pricey pistols and rifles you’ve plundered over the course of your journeys. Or by your side, but that’s a given by now. 

She also gets… seasick. Rather easily too. It’s her one fatal weakness. She gets used to it over time, but if the seas are rougher than usual, it’s guaranteed that you’ll find her hurling into the ocean, face pale and hair sticking to her forehead. And sometimes, it’ll still happen even when the seas are calm! It gets to the point where she’s so fed up she goes to Aventurine himself and demands answers. But he merely tips his head back and laughs.

“That’s the Lady Luck for you! She’s a fickle one like her namesake. Sometimes, she’ll try and drown you just for spite. She keeps even me on my toes at all times and I’m her captain. Isn’t that right?”

Aventurine pats the shiny wooden helm. As if responding to him, she creaks and rolls precariously even though the waves are calm. 

The four of you now are a complete crew. Incredibly small by all means, but a crew that operates smoothly like a well-oiled machine and one to be feared. 

As there’s so few of you on board, all of you have to double down, or even triple down, on roles. Veritas is simultaneously the boatswain and navigator, while Topaz is master gunner and master at arms while also being the bookkeeper. You’re “the ship’s beloved nurse”, as so lovingly referred to by Aventurine, while also being the quartermaster. Smaller roles such as cooking and carpentry are handled on a day by day basis and whoever’s available at the moment- although it usually ends up being you after Numby ran amok in the kitchen and almost burnt the ship down.

Guess being second in command is the bare minimum you deserve after being with him the longest among everyone on board. Although, there’s no real sense of hierarchy when there’s only four of you in total… 

Unlike other pirate captains out there, he wasn’t a rich man or a legitimate captain or even a high-ranking officer on a private vessel before becoming captain. Rather, there’s almost nothing known about him and it’s what makes others regard him with suspicion. How can a man who started off with nothing sail the seas with such ease, outshining even those who were born with a silver spoon in their mouths? 

But it’s all forgotten about in the face of his achievements- always going where no man has dared gone before and finding treasures beyond a pirate’s wildest imagination, as well as discovering several legendary treasures that have been lost for generations. Sea monsters that have been terrorizing ships for years meet their watery demise by your hand with Topaz leading the fray. Even the harshest of seas and weathering three days and nights with little sleep and food isn’t enough to shake your spirits. Mythical beasts meet death one after another and it’s around after the third creature slayed- a kraken whose single tentacle was longer than your ship measured from prow to stern, strong enough to crush her hull into splinters with ease- that you know you’ve made a name for yourselves. Whispers follow you everywhere you go on land and you’ll always hear dramatized retellings of your battles and treasures discovered while passing by taverns. 

The bounty on your heads also increases with each treasure you discover. It wasn’t until the four of you banded together that wanted posters started being put out. The amounts offered started off small at first, but after more and more valuable treasures were discovered, the number of zeros at the end keeps increasing until it’s the staggering number it is today. It becomes a point of pride, seeing how quickly the amount offered spikes with each town you stop at and you’ll have a good laugh over it, especially if the authorities think they’re fast enough to arrest you. You’ll take your sweet time fleeing as officials scurry after you like drunken idiots with two left feet- and giving them a fair share of trouble too. By the time they catch up with you at the port, you’re already long gone with a stash of stolen weapons and alcohol onboard- and a horrifyingly long tab under their name at the local tavern.

All the while having a crew of only three under Aventurine’s command. Truly a once-in-a-lifetime kind of pirate captain.

As word spreads from port to port about his unbelievable luck in finding treasure, his reputation grows and so does the number of people looking to join his crew. At every port, he welcomes anyone wishing to join with open arms. But not everyone is worthy of joining. You secretly put every applicant through a series of tests to see if they’re qualified including, but not limited to: seeing what skills they have to offer that you don’t possess already, if they can handle Ratio’s admittedly hardass personality at times, if they can satisfactorily perform the jobs of upwards of three people, as well as their motives among others. 

And of course, dealing with Aventurine. He’s in a category of his own. 

As expected, none of them last more than an hour. Shame. More hands on deck would always be appreciated.

All of this leads to your reputation as a small but tight-knit crew that would defend each other to the death. Regardless of the size or might of the ship that dares to challenge you, you always emerge victorious. Whether it be down to dumb luck or the collective desire to protect home, no one makes it out alive after encountering you. It’s enough to tell other pirate crews to steer clear, especially after you had considerably roughed up other crews more than twice your size. After the first few encounters that resulted in many dead pirates, you all decide to raise a red flag. It warns others that your crew will refuse to spare the lives of any opponent that comes your way. You’ve actually seen ships turn and head the other way after seeing yours. Now, whether that be from the red flag or upon recognizing the Lady Luck, you’re not sure, but it means less work for you either way, so you aren’t keen on prying too deep. 

Surprisingly, Aventurine doesn’t like to settle things with a duel unless he has to. Rather, his preferred method is with a game. He’ll invite the captain of the other ship below deck for a game of poker or blackjack rather than clashing swords and guns. The wager? The same as usual- the lives of the crew and the supplies on board. The loser and his crew would have to walk the plank and all treasures aboard would be handed over to the winning party. It’s not often it happens, but it’s still a nerve-wracking experience each time. Topaz had nearly passed out from anxiousness the first time he’d bet her life alongside yours and Ratio’s not long after she’d joined, while Ratio had lifted Aventurine up by the collar and nearly thrown him overboard. It was only thanks to your intervention and pleading that your captain hadn’t met his end that day.

… Safe to say, many a pirate crew have lost their lives and treasure this way. 

Like the crew that was idiotic enough to challenge Aventurine’s luck and consequently met their end just a few minutes ago. 

You watch as the captain of the ship anchored across from yours goes overboard with a resounding splash. His crew had already jumped before him. 

“That’s the last of ‘em,” says Topaz as she confirms with the spyglass. “Ratio and Cap’n are going through and seeing what treasure they had. But what would we do about their ship?”

“Leave it. We don’t have any cannons on board to blast it to smithereens and it's not worth adding another vessel to our fleet.”

Veritas and Aventurine push several treasure chests across the gangplank. Once the last of them are on your ship, Veritas lifts the gangplank and weighs the anchor and soon, you’re off again. 

“Let’s see what we have in here,” says Aventurine as you all stroll over curiously. He pops the lids off the chests and collective “oohs” and “aahs” fill the air as you marvel at the sparkling treasure filled to the brim inside. Aventurine lets out an appreciative whistle and lets a handful of multicolored gemstones slip through his fingers. 

“Have at it. Go and take your pick.”

Veritas snatches up the sailing charts while Topaz lays claim to the abundance of weapons. Her eyes are sparkling as she looks at the weapons in much need of some love and a deep-cleaning, and you can already tell what she’ll be up to for the next week or so. Meanwhile, you go through the chests with slim hope they’ll contain some medical supplies. To your disappointment, but not surprise, you find none. You instead settle on some pearl jewelry that catches your eye. 

“You guys barely took anything,” comments Aventurine as he peers into the chests again. “They’re still practically full.”

“That’s because gold and jewelry can only get us so far,” you remind him as he steps behind you to fasten the string of pearls around your neck. The cold metal of his nail guards and warmth of his fingertips lightly brushing over the nape of your neck make you shudder. From the faint chuckle that escapes him, your action didn’t go unnoticed. 

“Credits are where it’s really at,” adds Topaz as she gets to sharpening and polishing a sword. Aventurine rolls his eyes and scoffs.

“Of course the budding businesswoman would say that.”

He barely ducks out of the way in time to avoid Numby being chucked toward his head. 

Heavy wind and rain batters the Lady Luck later that night. But it’s cozy and warm beneath the deck in your dining room. Mismatched dishes and cups cover the round table the four of you are seated around, the food having long since been polished off. Numby is in a food coma by Topaz’s feet and Doubloon purrs contentedly in your lap. Veritas had gone off to bed earlier and Topaz is mumbling incoherently to herself, having drank more than she usually does in one sitting. With Aventurine’s help, you help Topaz to her feet and tuck her into bed while Numby sleepily trots after you. 

The two of you are back in the kitchen, silently doing the dishes and cleaning the space. When you’re finished, you bid him goodnight until you feel his hand latch onto your sleeve.

“What is it?”

“... Stay. Please.”

“... Captain, did you have too much to drink at dinner earlier?”

“I’m fine,” he grumbles. “Not even tipsy.”

The pink flush on his cheeks makes you doubt his words, but you let him lead you toward his quarters. The space is warm and extravagantly decorated. Atlases and maps are piled atop the heavy wooden desk in the corner with several candles burning throughout that fill the room with light. His wardrobe is even more packed than yours, overflowing to the point where you can barely make out the original floor beneath the heaps and piles of clothing. You carefully step over what you believe is a pile of silken robes on the way to his bed, where you lay him to sleep amongst the many fluffy pillows and heavy blankets covering the mattress. 

He stops you again as you’re about to leave.

“Don’t.”

“Captain, you have to go to sleep soon.”

“I’m not tired,” he argues childishly. “I have something I need to tell you.”

The uncharacteristic seriousness of his voice has you straightening up. You cast a glance at the door to ensure it’s locked as he sits up and drapes a luxurious fur over your shoulders. He pats the empty space next to him and after a moment of hesitation over the implications of getting into bed with your captain, you join him. 

“Truth be told, I haven’t been able to sleep lately,” he laments. “I’ve been plagued by nightmares…”

It’s only now you notice the dark circle under his exposed eye and a pang of guilt strikes your heart. You cautiously remove the bejeweled eyepatch and expose his blind eye- a privilege granted to only you- and frown at the sight.

“How long has this been going on for?”

“A while now,” he grumbles. You click your tongue and your frown deepens.

“Why didn’t you come to me about this earlier?”

Aventurine rolls his eyes. 

“Please. It’s nothing worth worrying your pretty head over.”

The remark has the opposite effect he intended. You glare at him and angrily tug on his ear.

“Captain, I think you’ve forgotten this, but it’s our duty to ensure you’re fit to sail even if you do piss us off to no extent at times. I’m responsible for ensuring you’re in good health, Topaz is responsible for making sure we can defend ourselves, while Ratio is in charge of making sure we don’t veer off course. We are all your responsibility just as much as you are ours.” 

He sighs and looks away. Figures. He should’ve known better than to expect you’d let his neglectfulness slip by the wayside. Meanwhile, you roll your neck and irritatedly sigh. 

“You mentioned nightmares. Do you want to talk about them?”

He keeps avoiding eye contact. With a resigned sigh, you lean against him languidly, head resting on his shoulder. Aventurine stiffens, clearly not used to touch, but relaxes after a few seconds. A hand comes to grasp yours. 

“... They always start off the same way,” he begins. “We’re lost at sea somehow and there’s always foul weather. Amidst the lighting, a ghost ship is illuminated.”

He swallows. 

“We then investigate that ship to discover that her hull is filled to the brim with gold and treasures alike, but no captain or crew on board.”

Aventurine begins fiddling with the poker chip he always carries on him. 

“And this is where things can change. Sometimes, I’ll turn and see that she’s hung you all before my eyes. Other times you’ll all have gone overboard, drowned by a rogue wave snatching everyone up except for me. Sometimes she’ll even steal my sight. Either way, they all end the same way. I’m cursed to be her captain forever, sailing the seas without an end in sight. A captain that didn’t go down with his ship and left without a crew.”

He lets out a dry, humorless laugh and tucks the chip back into his pocket. You swallow dryly.

“Do you think it has anything to do with…?”

You look down at his hands, then back up at him. He doesn’t meet your gaze.

“... How much do you know?”

It sounds more like a threat than a question- but a weak one at that. You scoff and take his hands in yours, taking care to remove the nail guards one by one as well.

“What do you mean by that? Kakavasha, you know by now I couldn’t care less about who you are. And honestly, I’m kind of offended that you think I would,” you sigh as you remove his hat and the teal bandana wrapped around his head. “All this time together and I was under the impression you held me in higher regard than that.”

“Cut the theatrics,” he grumbles. You toss his hat and bandana off to the side and pull the blankets snugly over you both. 

“But a ghost ship, hm?” you say, eyeing the stack of open books on his desk. “That’s never a good sign. Surely we’re not sailing towards our imminent deaths, right?”

He draws you closer as you roll over onto your stomach and gaze up at him with sleepy eyes. He feels his heart somersault at the proximity and your warmth seeping into the sheets. It’s an unfamiliar feeling he’s not quite comfortable with yet and tries to play it off with a laugh.

“I’d sure hope not.”

But it’s the first time he’s met your gaze this entire night. You meet his eyes unflinchingly, as you always do, with a lazy smile as you shift onto your side. 

“... There’s no storm that Veritas can’t lead us out of,” you quietly reassure. “No monster that Jelena can’t kill. No injury that I can’t heal.”

A hand sneaks out from beneath the covers to grasp his.

“And no captain better fit to lead us through the storm than you. So chin up, ok? We’ll make it out together on the other side surrounded by calm seas just fine.”

Aventurine shakily exhales. There’s still more on his mind but… forget it. They’re not worth worrying you over.

“... If you say so, sweetheart.”

“‘Course I do. Because I believe in your abilities.”

He stares at you disbelievingly before bursting out into laughter.

“You really are something, you know? Something so incredible I could practically kiss you right now.”

“Then do it.”

Your gaze is steadfast like it’s always been ever since joining. Not once have you ever flinched away from witnessing every aspect about him, both pretty and ugly. Every reckless, stupid, horrible decision he’s ever made was an attempt to chase you off the ship so you wouldn’t see him for who he really is. But for some reason, whether it be your persistence or having figured out his motives, you’ve stuck around. 

He’s a coward of a man at heart, but you’ve surely seen through his grandeur by now. You may pretend to be a mere nurse, but Aventurine knows that’s far from the case. You surely have to know his biggest, darkest secret by now, yes?

“And if I don’t?”

“Then I’ll tell Ratio that you’re the one who’s been leaving obscene doodles on his chalkboard and Topaz that you’re the reason for Numby’s sudden weight gain.”

“Seems like my hand has been forced,” he chuckles. “Fine. You win this round, my beloved nurse.”

The rain continues pouring outside, but it’s still warm and dry beneath the deck. And if one kiss leads to something that lasts until the candles burn out, then… 

That’s a secret for you to keep then, yes?

It’s not the sun that wakes you the next morning. Rather, it’s the weight of a blond man sprawled out on top of you that does. 

“Kakavasha… get off me. You’re heavy and I can’t breathe.”

“Mmm… no. You’re comfy.”

His arms tighten around your waist as you flail around and try to shake him off. 

“Captain, your duties and crew await you! Let go of me!”

After some more incessant squirming and an accidental kick to his stomach, he finally relents. You shake him off and get ready for the day, trying to not think about what transpired last night as you change and do your makeup. The mere thought of it is enough to make your face heat up several degrees… 

When you’re finished, you peek into his room on the way to the main deck out of curiosity, only to see he’s still in the same spot you left him in. When he sees you glaring at him disapprovingly from the doorway, he perks up.

“Help me get ready?”

“Captain, you are a grown ass man.”

“Pretty please?”

He hurries to his feet and scurries over, before sinking to his knees and wrapping his arms around your waist. He fixates you with those big, watery dual-colored eyes and you just can’t bring yourself to say no even though you know he’s playing you like a fiddle

“... Fine. But just this once. And not a word to Ratio and Topaz, got it?”

“Understood, my dear nurse!”

You start by all but tossing his clothes toward him, then turning and facing the other way resolutely as he gets dressed.

“Won’t you help your poor captain out here?”

A loud “oof!” escapes him as you toss his long coat over your shoulder. The weight of it, gold embellishments and gems and all, knocks him flat on his back and onto his bed again. He takes his sweet time getting dressed after that, grumbling all the while until he’s done. 

The wealth of accessories he wears are next. Aventurine slips on the pair of golden anchor earrings that are as heavy as one as you layer his necklaces the way he likes them. He preens like a bird under your attention and you have to fight back the comment likening him to a peacock that brews on the tip of your tongue. 

You re-wrap the bandana around his head before placing his hat on slightly tilted- just the way he likes it. Almost done. Just one last touch before he’s ready. You pull out a tin of salve and dab it onto the scar over his eye. Aventurine scrunches his nose up in distaste at the strong herbal smell, but lets you do as you please. You pat it dry and secure his eyepatch, nodding in satisfaction at your handiwork. 

“Perfect. There’s our captain, ready to command and conquer the seas.”

“I think you meant to say my captain, especially after last night. Weren’t you the one-”

You shut him up with a zealous kiss to the lips that has him sighing in bliss when you pull away, a dazed expression on his face and a pretty shade of pink on his lips that matches the one on yours. 

For such an eccentric man, he sure can be predictable when you have him dancing in the palm of your hand. 

The skies are cloudier and darker than you’d like them to be when you step out onto the deck. It’s also quite windy too. Veritas is lowering one of the sails while Topaz is on lookout duty. Upon seeing the two of you hand in hand, the former scoffs and rolls his eyes while the latter whistles obnoxiously.

“Good morning to you two lovebirds! I take it you had some fun last night?”

You chuck a pastry you had nabbed from the kitchen at Topaz to shut her up. She catches it deftly with one hand while Numby jumps up and down around her, pleading for a bite, but at least it worked. Meanwhile, Veritas is glaring at you with disgust in his eyes.

“What?” you ask innocently.

“I couldn’t sleep a wink last night.”

Oh. Oops.

“You’re just complaining because you’re jealous, doc,” interjects Aventurine with an arm thrown around your shoulder. The purple-haired man scowls angrily and turns on his heel, storming away angrily while grumbling something about the too-thin walls on the ship.

“And wipe that lipstick mark off your mouth,” he snaps at Aventurine. His face flushes guiltily while you snicker behind your hand. 

Topaz lifts the spyglass away with a worried look on her face.

“Cap’n, there’s a storm brewing up ahead. A pretty intense one from the looks of it and because the winds are reaching us out here already.”

Normally, he’d laugh such concerns off and lazily give the order to circle around it. But this time, he wordlessly takes the spyglass from her and looks out toward the horizon where dark storm clouds are gathering and swirling.

“... Turn around.”

You think you’ve misheard him and so does everyone else.

“What?”

“Turn the ship around,” he quickly orders as he places the spyglass back into Topaz’s hands and hurries over to the helm. “If we go now at full sail, we should be able to outrun it until it dies out.”

Ratio and Topaz share confused looks but do as he says, obediently hoisting all the sails as Aventurine spins the wheel. The Lady Luck slowly turns around and soon she’s sailing ahead at full speed. Even so, the storm clouds aren’t getting any smaller. 

There’s a level of urgency etched into Aventurine’s face that you haven’t seen before as he pushes the Lady Luck to her limits. His hands grip the wheel so tightly you think that any more and the wood would crack. It’s as if he’s trying to outrun something, especially with how often he looks back over his shoulder at the encroaching clouds blanketing the sky in pitch-black darkness. 

Even sailing at near-top speeds, you still aren’t able to outrun the storm. Heavy clouds that bring with them an oppressive humidity and electrical charge to the air roll in rapidly, surrounding you on all four sides. There’s a strange buzz in the air and your hair begins to stand on end. There’s a small patch of clear sky in front of you that’s your only escape, and it’s rapidly shrinking. 

Come on, just a little faster… just a little more…!

Her prow just barely breaks free of the storm when a sudden flash of lightning temporarily blinds you all. When you open your eyes again, it’s so dark you can only see a few paces in front of you. Not a single shred of light escapes the thick storm clouds rolling overhead that have finally completely moved in, and you realize the sky is tinged a sickly green when lightning flashes. The air is heavy and humid and mere seconds later, heavy, fat raindrops fall from the clouds, splattering angrily against the deck. The temperature plummets and the raindrops condense into giant hailstones, harshly stinging your skin as they pelt you and the deck with harsh cracks. The slippery surface of the deck and angry seas tossing the ship around as if she weighs nothing make it so that you’re constantly sliding into walls and hitting things. 

You’re surrounded by the storm with no way out in sight.

Ratio lowers the sails as fast as he can and jumps down the second he’s done. Mere milliseconds later, the boom swings about violently toward the spot he was just at. A moment sooner and he would’ve surely died upon impact.

You regroup by Aventurine’s side, who’s staring at the churning waters with barely-concealed horror. Towering, white-capped waves crash mercilessly against her hull and spill onto the deck. The salty spray of the ocean shoots up as high as the masts and stings your eyes. The continuous gusts of winds threaten to rip the sails off the masts and howl against your ears. The Lady Luck rolls violently amidst the choppy waves and your stomach twists into knots at every drop. Poor Topaz is already throwing up over the side of the ship and Ratio is starting to look a little green. 

“So this is it then,” he murmurs under his breath, so quietly you think only your ears heard it. Before you can respond, he gets ahold of himself and gives the order to tie down everything that isn’t secured and for all hands on deck. Veritas and Topaz stumble off first, making quick work of the ship, but you linger by his side a bit longer.

“This is no natural storm, is it?”

“... No,” he responds, his voice clipped as he fights to keep the Lady Luck buoyant. “It isn’t.”

You’re emerging from your quarters when you think you hear a melodic voice drifting over the choppy waves, singing an unknown yet enchanting tune. For all your time spent in taverns and performing in them, you’ve never heard anyone with a voice even close to the one you’re hearing right now. The voice is clear and high-pitched and whoever’s singing hits every note perfectly. You feel yourself go limp and you begin seeking out the voice, even getting up on shaky legs before Veritas yanks you back down. With the last of his strength, he shoves wax into your ears before he too falls victim to the song. Topaz, with her ears safely covered, takes the initiative and with your help, manages to subdue him enough for you to plug his ears. Not an easy task for a man of his size and build actively struggling against your hold. 

You’re practically deaf now. All you can hear is the loudest of the waves crashing against the ship’s hull and the thunder booming directly overhead. Topaz roughly shakes you and you manage to make out what she’s saying even with the heavy rain obscuring your vision.

“What about our captain?!”

Ice courses through your veins. She’s right. You were so caught up in saving yourselves that you’ve left your captain completely defenseless. Oh no.

But when you look around, you see your captain still at the helm, seemingly immune to the siren’s song drifting through the air. He fights the ocean at every turn and spins the wheel to and fro as heavy waves tip her from side to side. He eventually manages to stabilize the ship for long enough to where you can get back up on your feet after being thrown around like a rag doll. Long enough for you to lock the rest of the ship up. 

You cling to anything you can get your hands on as you slowly make your back to the deck, but it’s surprisingly difficult. Your whole body hurts from being thrown around, your arms are sore from holding onto anything for dear life, and your balance is off. Your feet keep slipping and sliding and when you make your way to the deck, you see why: the Lady Luck’s prow is pointed directly up and you already know what’s going to happen next.

“Hold fast!” shouts Aventurine. In the instant before the ice-cold waters sweep over you, Ratio grabs you and Topaz around the waist and hunkers down in the corner of the deck, gripping the railing with all his strength while you latch your arms around his waist. You manage to squeeze your eyes shut and inhale before the force of the rushing waters hits you. Even with your iron-clad grip around him, the bone-chilling cold temperature of the ocean plunges you head-first into shock and your grip loosens up ever so slightly- just enough for you to be swept away. Your limp body is harshly thrown against a corner- something cracks upon impact and needle-sharp pain shoots up your spine- before another wave lifts you up and over the railing, plunging you into the endless, swirling depths. 

“Cap’n! (Name)’s gone overboard!”

The water sloshing around on the deck comes up to his knees now. Aventurine looks down at his legs, then toward the churning seas, then back at his legs. Without any hesitation, he tosses his coat aside and jumps overboard to the astonishment of Topaz and Ratio.

“Captain!”

“You damned gambler! Have you gone insane?!”

Everything sounds muffled and distant as you sink further down and down. Your lungs are burning and your vision is beginning to darken as you gaze up at the hull of the Lady Luck that’s growing smaller. 

Is this… it? And just when I think I’ve finally found the life I’ve been searching for… 

You think you see something dart by- a fish? No, it’s too big for one. The tail is a shiny lilac but the top half is that of a woman. Silvery hair flows out behind her as she stares at you curiously and you realize it’s a mermaid as she swims away. You gasp out of shock, only to regret it instantly when you begin gasping frantically for air after you accidentally inhale some water. You desperately claw and fight your way to the surface but it’s no use; your legs feel like lead and soon your arms follow. 

Right as your consciousness fades and the world goes black, you see a familiar face swimming toward you. Blond hair, multicolored eyes…

Captain? What’re you doing here?

There’s an uncharacteristic regretful look on his face as he gets closer. He says something- you can’t hear it- before he pulls you in gently and kisses you so softly you barely feel the brush of his lips against yours. 

A shimmering teal tail, the same kind as the mermaid you saw earlier, is the last thing you see. 

You feel something warm and heavy nestled against your side. Two of them, actually.

It feels like you’ve been asleep for a very, very long time. It’s a struggle to open your eyes as if they’ve been sealed shut and your body feels stiff. It’s all too easy to fall back asleep, but… 

Upon opening your eyes, you’re greeted with the sight of Numby and Doubloon curled up against you. The former squeals and the latter meows anxiously now that you’re awake. You gently pet their heads.

“... Good morning to you two as well.”

Your voice comes out so hoarse and scratchy you almost get secondhand embarrassment from hearing it. Upon closer examination, you realize you’re in Aventurine’s quarters but there’s no sight of him. You do, however, see Topaz passing by in the door left ajar. She gasps loudly at seeing you moving around and almost drops whatever she’s holding to rush inside.

“You’re awake! Good, we were all so worried, especially Aventurine.”

“Ugh… quiet down a bit please. How long was I out for?”

“Almost a day and a half.”

You slowly shift into an upright sitting position, wincing when you feel a sharp stabbing pain in your chest. Topaz is immediately at your side, helping you up and covering you with furs and blankets when your teeth start chattering uncontrollably. Looks like the chill of the waters penetrated deep into your bones. 

“Easy now. You got some nasty injuries when you went overboard, such as a few fractured ribs. Ratio had to be the one to patch you up after Cap’n brought you aboard and-” her words are punctuated with a light-hearted chuckle “-I’ve never seen him so anxious for a person to wake up. Don’t tell him I said that though.”

She leaves and you lift up the handheld mirror on the nightstand, getting the first good look of yourself since almost drowning. You look relatively the same, save for the bruises all over your exposed skin and the sling your left arm is in. 

“You’re very lucky that you only got off with some fractured ribs, a broken arm, and a bunch of bruises. You very well could’ve died out there,” says Topaz as she walks back into the room with a warm drink in hand. “Ratio’s words, not mine. Although, he’s right.”

You accept the drink and after realizing what it is, gulp it down eagerly. Hot rum with honey, lemon, and cinnamon. A favorite of yours and a classic remedy whenever someone on the ship falls ill. Topaz makes it the best though. 

You stare down at the now-empty cup in your hands, its residual heat warming up your cold hands. It takes a while for your memory to be jogged, but you suddenly remember Aventurine going overboard too.

“Wait, Aventurine, where is-”

“In the bathroom waiting for you. He’s been quite moody ever since returning.”

You think back to when he saved you at death’s doorstep and you loudly gasp when you recall the last thing you saw. Your thoughts must’ve been written all over your face because Topaz merely sighs and takes the empty cup from your hands.

“... I’ll let him explain everything.”

She helps you to your feet and leaves you be. You hesitantly knock on the door and are instantaneously greeted with a “come in” from the other side. 

You see why Aventurine has been confined to the bathroom. The first thing you see is a long teal-colored tail shimmering and swaying lazily side to side in the dim candlelight; far too big for the tiny confines of the bathtub your captain is currently soaking in. The fins are long and slightly translucent at the ends as they smack against the floor upon seeing you enter. You stay frozen in place, eyes trailing up from his fins toward his face. The scales that you swear you’d see peeking out underneath his collar sometimes are on full display now. Patches of them are littered across his chest, arms and face. His hands are webbed now and so are his ears tinged green at the tips and peeking out beneath the mess of blond hair. The sharp fins along his forearms slice cleanly through the water as he shifts around and the gills on his neck flare upon seeing you. 

He stays frozen in place, watching. And waiting for your reaction. For what feels like eternity, none of you speak or even dare to breathe until you finally make the first move. You shakily laugh and exhale- he jolts at the sound- and you sink to your knees besides him, albeit with some difficulty. When you finally do speak, it’s with a gentle voice as you’re eyeing his tail resting in your lap.

“So that explains it all. And here I was wondering if I was hallucinating seeing you with scales.”

Aventurine lets out a laugh of sheer relief. His shoulders droop and he slouches against the edge of the bathtub, all tension seemingly dissipating from his body. He seems to take notice of your injuries after he’s relaxed. A webbed finger reaches out to lightly trace your arm in a sling and he frowns at the sight.

“... I’m sorry.”

You blink, astonished.

“What?”

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, and that’s all he has to say. 

“It’s just some broken bones,” you lightly respond. “Inconvenient, sure, but nothing I can’t recover from. Besides, you saved me from certain death.”

“It’s not just about that. I narrowly avoided the nightmare I saw in my dreams, but at what cost?”

He goes quiet and refuses to elaborate. You decide it’s for the better to change the topic.

“So… care to tell me about your tail?”

Aventurine sighs. He knew he wouldn’t be able to keep this a secret from you forever, but he’s still a bit hesitant to tell you.

“Exposure to waist-deep water gives me legs and vice versa thanks to a deal I made with Jade a long time ago. In exchange for getting to experience life as a human, I would have to bring promising people to her door and continuously supply her with valuables.”

“Jade is a… sea witch?”

Aventurine snorts and scoffs. 

“What, did she not seem enough of a conniving witch the first time you met her?”

“Fair enough,” you concede. “But what made you want to experience life on land?”

“It wasn’t a choice.”

“Oh.”

Your eyes land on the tattoo on the side of his neck that’s on full display now. You dare not say what it spells out loud. He scratches at the spot, conveniently covering it with his hand, and silence fills the space for a bit. 

“What happened after the storm passed?”

You break the silence first. He seems relieved at the distraction and begins playing with the pearl bracelet fastened around your wrist. 

“The storm passed almost as soon as I rescued you. I brought you back to the surface, where-”

“Wait, does that mean Veritas and Topaz know you’re-”

He sighs and nods. You falter a bit.

“... How did they react?”

Aventurine thinks back for a bit. 

“I think they were just surprised. I don’t think they’ve fully processed it either.”

He laughs and shrugs.

“I can’t blame them. Their captain and a feared creature among sailors are one and the same.”

He sighs and looks at the closed bathroom door.

“They’ve been giving me a wide berth since then…” 

“I’m sure they’ll come around. They just need some more time,” you reassure. “But what happened after that?” you ask, pressing for more information. His tail curls around your waist and swiftly pulls you closer to the bathtub- he’s surprisingly strong in this form, you quickly realize as you squirm around only for him to not budge one bit. You rest your tired head against your arms and gaze at him with half-lidded eyes that he meets unflinchingly with a gaze of his own and a lazy smile. 

“Once you’re feeling better, go thank Ratio for his prompt medical care. As soon as I resurfaced, he practically yanked you out of my arms and started treating you. You inhaled quite a bit of water and Ratio had to get you to cough it all out. A bit gross, seeing it unfold in front of my eyes.”

“... You saw it all?” you ask, horrified and disgusted.

His lazy smile turns impish and he flicks some water toward you.

“Ah, you should’ve seen yourself,” he muses out loud. “Flopping around on the deck like a fish out of water and soaked to the point where you looked like Doubloon during bath time. It made for quite the sight- wait, don’t leave!”

He reaches out to you desperately and his tail tightens even more around your waist. You shoot him a withering glare before settling back down again. 

“The storm calmed down soon after I saved you,” he continues. “The Lady Luck sustained some damage to the sails and she sprung a few leaks in the hull, but nothing that Ratio and Topaz weren’t able to repair. Later, you woke up and here we are.”

“Really? That’s it?”

“Really, that’s it,” he repeats. 

“What a coincidence it stops after narrowly escaping death,” you grumble. He rolls his eyes.

“No kidding,” he scoffs. 

Aventurine plucks a glimmering scale off and holds it out like a peace offering to you. It shifts between colors in the candlelight, going from pink to green to gold with a holographic sheen covering it. He notices the confused expression you wear and lightly laughs.

“What? Didn’t you know, mermaid scales are exceedingly valuable?”

You hold it closer, entranced by its dancing colors.

“I thought most of the ones on the market are frauds though?”

“That they are. But a real, genuine scale… those are only offered to the richest of the rich at a closed auction.”

“Yet here I am with one in my hand, free of charge.”

Aventurine laughs and plucks off another one for you. A look of hesitation crosses your face.

“... Doesn’t that hurt?”

“A little,” he admits. “But it’s nothing I can’t handle. Besides, they grow back.”

His words do nothing to budge the frown on your face and Aventurine makes a mental note to claim a scale fell off from natural causes the next time he gifts you one.

“How long do they take to grow back then?”

“... A long time,” he confesses after a beat of silence. 

“... I see why they’re so expensive now.”

You glance down at the two shining scales in your palm. Perhaps you’ll make jewelry out of them- an earring to match with your captain doesn’t sound half-bad…

But your curiosity is piqued now. Mermaids are the stuff of legends and you have one sitting in front of you. A few questions couldn’t hurt, right?

“What else can you do?”

His tail flicks back and forth excitedly. Anything to impress you!

“We can cry pearls and other valuable jewels. Want to see?”

“Wait, don’t make yourself cry-”

Too late. Fat tears slide down his cheeks, condensing into something round and shiny before landing with a soft clink in his hands. Perfect pearls and tumbled sea glass pile up in his palms and you spot some shiny green stones- aventurine stones. He holds them out to you with an expectant look in his eyes. Your captain looks less of a fearsome mythical creature and more like an… eager puppy. You can’t possibly say no to such a face so with a resigned sigh, you accept his offering. 

“... Thank you, but please don’t make this a common occurrence in the future. I don’t want to see you cry.”

He pouts, fins drooping. Boo. There goes a courting attempt out the window. 

Like a puppy, you think as you watch him sulk in the bathtub. You poke at one of Ratio’s rubber ducks Aventurine had stolen from him bobbing along the water’s surface.

“You aren’t horrified?” he asks once he grows bored of staring at the duck. 

“Why would I be?”

“Don’t give me that. You know exactly what I mean.”

His tail swishes side to side agitatedly and his ears simultaneously flatten against his head and fold downwards. 

“Do you realize what I could do to you right now?” he asks in a low tone. “I could pull you under my song, strip you of your defenses, outwit you at every turn despite how clever you are…”

You’re leaning in unknowingly. A grin tugs at the corner of his mouth and he leans in closer, twirling a strand of your hair around a clawed finger. 

“I’ll infiltrate your mind and charm you into doing things you’d never think of doing,” he continues, voice even lower and softer now. “I could tell you to walk the plank and you would do it, no questions asked. I could drag you beneath the depths with me and no one would even notice you’re gone. Ah, but you’re already under my spell, aren’t you?”

“... What?”

“Exactly. I could even do… this!”

With a sudden yank, he pulls you into the tub with him. Water splashes over the edge onto the floor and you scream. Even so, he holds tight and winds his tail tightly around you, nuzzling his cheek against yours and nipping your cheeks. They’re love bites more than anything else, but you shudder at the thought of how different the situation could be had he not been so head over heels for you. 

You also shudder as the cold water soaks through your clothes and sends a chill up your spine. 

“Let me go. The water’s cold.”

Aventurine merely holds onto you even tighter. Tucked into the crook of his neck like this, you can see his gills rapidly opening and closing out of contentment and the self-satisfied smile stretching wide across his face. He seems content to stay in this position for ages, leaning in to bury his nose into your hair and press kisses to your cheek repeatedly, but it’s only until you start shivering that he reluctantly lets go. 

Before you step out the tub, he holds his left hand out. You hesitantly extend your right hand out until he gently bats it away and gestures for your left hand instead. It’s bundled in a sling but you manage to make it work somehow. 

“There we go,” he says once your palm is pressed against his. “Now, close your eyes.”

You do as he says and thick, syrupy words flow like honey from his mouth. The words practically stick together as his voice rises and falls melodically in some unknown language. It sounds soothing, in the way a mother’s voice would lull a child to sleep. 

“There,” he whispers after a peck to your forehead. “All done. You can open your eyes now.”

“What was that?”

“... A prayer,” he admits. “A prayer for your continued health and safety.”

There’s a funny feeling in your stomach and you fight back the stupid smile creeping onto your face. 

“You shouldn’t have. But thank you.”

You curl your good arm around him and with a sharp heave, lift him up. His long tail snakes around your waist and you almost fall over from the weight.

“Stop that! You’re heavy!”

“How heartless of you.”

You dunk him back into the bathtub unceremoniously. His tail splits down the middle and scales begin falling off rapidly in patches. The fins shrivel and dissolve and pearly-smooth legs soon emerge. With a start, you try to look away but he merely scoffs and languidly stretches out in your arms.

“What? It’s nothing you haven’t already seen.”

Now fully dressed, Aventurine emerges onto the deck with you in hand. Topaz is playing fetch with Numby and Doubloon while Ratio is at the helm. The two pets, upon seeing you, dash over to you and run in circles around you with Numby oinking and Doubloon meowing excitedly. Topaz all but topples you over in an excited hug while your navigator scolds her, reminding the woman of your frail condition. 

“How are you feeling?” asks Veritas as he comes to a stop before you. You hum and beam at him.

“Never felt better thanks to your immediate care.”

He brushes your compliments off with a scoff and a wave of his hand, all accompanied by his usual eye roll. 

“Think nothing of it. It was merely my duty.”

Topaz leans against you from behind while Ratio coughs and steps back from you a bit. They eye your captain with the respect and admiration they always have, but now there’s a hint of skepticism underlying it all. 

“Gambler, we deserve an explanation for what happened back there,” demands Veritas. Aventurine sighs and shakes his head. 

“I know, but that’ll happen in due time. For now, let’s just… keep moving forward.”

He takes the helm. Ratio hoists the sails and Topaz climbs up to the crow’s nest to keep lookout. Things are never going to be quite the same as before now, but that’s alright in your eyes. Everyone boarded the Lady Luck for their own reasons and their captain secretly being a mermaid in disguise doesn’t change any of that. You boarded the ship to carve out a life for yourself you would’ve never had back on land. Ratio boarded to spread knowledge. Topaz boarded to bring change into the world. Your captain has already helped those dreams come true. Nothing the legends say will do anything to sway your opinion on him. 

There will come a day when the Lady Luck will complete her last voyage, Aventurine will have to return to the seas, and the crew will be disbanded, but that day isn’t today. It won’t be when he comes clean to the crew either. Rather, it’ll be in the far future when no amount of repairs can keep the Lady Luck from falling apart and you’re no longer able to handle the challenges of life at sea. But you’ll cross that bridge when you get there. 

The seas are calm. It’s clear out with a strong breeze that cools you off amidst the sun’s sweltering rays. Ratio is repairing a tear in one of the sails that escaped his earlier attention while Topaz hums a tune she picked up from you atop the crow’s nest, scouting the surrounding waters. You meet Aventurine’s gaze out the corner of your eye. Wordlessly, he pulls you into his side with one arm as you look out upon the ocean. 

“Have you accomplished your goal of conquering the seven seas?” you tease. He scoffs and smirks.

“Oh, I did that a long time ago already. But there’s one last desire I have yet to fulfill.”

“And what might that be?”

He gazes down at you silently, yet the silence between you speaks volumes. A raised eyebrow and a head tilt. A cheeky wink and a kiss to your forehead. An exasperated sigh from your two crewmates as you pull away from returning the kiss.

There’s always one question you ask when heading to a new destination, and this time is no different. Gazing into his multicolored eye, you can’t imagine yourself anywhere else other than here, now and forever. 

“So where to next, Captain?”

enjoyed my work? the taglist is open!

@ theother-victoria, do not copy, repost, modify, translate, or feed to ai

[miley1442111]

(part 6) ladies choice- a.donaldson

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

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

a/n: dw there are more parts after this :)

summary: how you start moving on, and how Art starts moving away.

pairing: art donaldson x fem! reader | patrick zweig x fem! reader

warnings: smut, piv (wrap it up plz), reader is mad mean to Tashi, usual upset and depressed Art, etc.

PART 6 of 12

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

“What the fuck are you doing here?” you asked. 

“I wanted to talk,” Patrick shrugged. His loose t-shirt hung off his well-hidden muscled torso and arms. 

“About what?”

“Your break-up.”

“If you’re about to try and convince me to get back with him-”

“No way!” he assured you.  “I wanted to see how you were. Art’s broke up about it but it’s not like he’s the one who got cheated on.”

You were both silent for a moment.

“How are you?” Patrick asked, fiddling with the straps of the tote bag over his shoulder.

You sighed. “Honestly, I’m kind of shit.” 

“I guessed. That’s why I brought ice cream,” he smiled sheepishly. “And I thought we could watch something?”

You smiled. “That sounds nice.”

“So let me in then,” he smiled. You opened the door and the night was full of laughter, ice-cream, and hazily falling asleep in his arms in your bed. 

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

“Stay in touch, yeah?” he smiled from the end of your bed. He had to leave, his train was in an hour and he wanted to be at the station before he missed it out of pure idiocy. He’d never been good with being on time. 

“Yeah,” you agreed and took his hand, lazily bringing it into your own. “Thank you for last night Pat.”

“Thank you, you make a lot of things a lot better.” 

You smiled at his compliment, and smiled even harder when he pressed a soft kiss to your hand before he left. 

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

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Art cursed, watching Patrick leave your dorm room. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Patrick shot back, a satisfied smirk on his face. 

“Visiting Y/n-”

“You mean your ex-girlfriend, right?” Patrick mocked and Art rolled his eyes. 

“I have some of her old stuff, I wanted to give it back,” Art admitted. “Now, what are you doing here?”

“You shouldn’t care. We’re not friends anymore, remember? And you and Y/n are broken up, because you cheated on her, remember?” 

Art felt the stab in his heart when he remembered his infidelity. He didn’t love Tashi. He loved you. He’d always love you. But Tashi and he made sense. Before you, he’d wanted Tashi. Now he couldn’t have you, Tashi was his second choice. 

“See you around, Arthur,” Patrick smiled, walking past him. 

Art was seething. 

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

“Are you fucking Patrick?” Tashi demanded, stalking onto the court as you ran drills. 

“No,” you answered, your focus staying on the balls being thrown at you by your coach.

“Then why did Art tell me you were?”

“Because he’s a liar?” You sighed after missing a ball. “Keep me out of your relationship, you’ve already fucked one of my boyfriend behind my back.”

Tashi rolled her eyes. “Why are you-”

“Focus on your injury, Tashi. Maybe one day you’ll be able to beat me,” you snarled. 

Tashi’s face fell. 

“Oh wait, no you fucking won’t. ‘Cause you’ll never play again,” you snapped. “Now get off the court, actual athletes are trying to play.”

Tashi walked away, a certain shake in her step as you watched her retreat. 

You had to call Patrick. In recent weeks, he’d been your only real friend. The only person who understood you and the pain you were under. Tashi had fucked Art, Patrick was cheated on as well, right? You two were one in the same. 

“Patrick?” you questioned. 

“Hey honey,” you could hear the smirk in his voice. “Everything alright?”

“Can you come visit soon?”

“Of course. It would be my pleasure,” he smiled. 

"When can you come down?" you asked, biting your nails.

"How about Friday?"

"Perfect."

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

When Patrick opened your dorm door, he found you studying over some material for a biology test.

"Hey beautiful," he smirked and pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head.

"Hey Pat," you sighed. "How are you?"

"I'm good, happy to see you. How are you?"

You held back tears as you explained what had happened earlier that week, but when he pulled you into his arms you broke.

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

It felt good having Patrick fuck you. You didn't know how it had happened. One second he was comforting you about your fight with Tashi, the next his lips were on yours, the next you were being fucked into next week on your bed.

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

“So beautiful,” he smirked, pummelling into you. “So pretty like this, taking me so well.”

“Patrick-” you whined, grasping at the headboard of your bed as you bucked off the bed. You could feel every inch of him, and trust me, there was a lot. His fingers swirled over your needy clit as you bucked into his hips, fucking yourself onto his cock.

“Such a pretty girl, too pretty for Art,” he groaned into your neck. He took notice of how you clenched around him when he called you pretty. "You're too good for them, for both of them. Art and Tashi. I'll make you forget all about them, yeah pretty?"

You honestly could've cum for his words right there. He looked so good right now, a thin layer of sweat across his naked body, his curly hair on his forehead wet with sweat. “I-I’m gonna-” 

“You gonna cum? Come on, cum on my cock,” he whined. This is what he had wanted, he wanted to be with you, sure. But the sex was a big part of it too. You were drop-dead gorgeous, and from what Art had told him, you were incredible in bed. Art hadn’t lied.

It was all too much, too good. His hand on your waist, his way-too-big cock inside you hitting spots Art could only dream of hitting, his fingers swirling around your throbbing clit, it was all too good.

“Fuck!” you shouted and came around him with a shudder. He bit down on your neck as he came inside the condom, broken moans leaving both of your mouths as you rode out your highs. 

Patrick lay beside you, his hands wrapped around your bruising waist. 

“So…” you took a deep breath.

“I wanna go out with you,” he admitted. “Not just to get back at Tashi and Art, because I think you’re really interesting and special.”

You smiled. “Alright.”

“So, can I take you out on a date?”

“Yes.”

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

Everything was going wrong. "We want you to go pro," his coach smiled at him. He nodded, no excitement behind his blank expression.

"Can't wait," he plastered on a fake smile.

"You'll be represented by Nike, your female ambassador is Y/n Y/l/n. We're so excited for you."

Art smiled but it was fake. everyone knew it was fake. Seeing you at practice everyday was sure to kill him, if Tashi didn't first. Their relationship was slowly falling apart, and it was all because of him.

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

"I think we should see other people," Tashi sighed over dinner. Art just nodded along.

"I agree."

"You have to get over her Art, she's with Pat now-"

"What?" he snarled, venom in his confused voice.

"She and Patrick, they're going out now," she explained. "I told you-"

"No you didn't. You never told me."

Art's head was spinning, you were moving on. You were moved on. He'd lost you.

To Patrick.

Great.

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

art donaldson masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)

[honeyhoshi]

raise the stakes pt. 1

summary: you and soonyoung have been in each other’s orbits for years. you’ve watched him go from a grassroots player to receiving the captain’s armband—a sign of trust and acknowledging his loyalty to his team.

but he’s loyal to you too.

this a part of the man of the match universe and set in the 2022-2023 season.

genre: professional footballer (soccer) soonyoung, coach's daughter oc, (sort of) childhood friends to lovers, slight angst, smut

wordcount: 24,969, pt. 2 coming soon

pairing: soonyoung x afab!reader (named cho jiae)

warnings: oral (m & f receiving), spit kink (bec i wrote it), tit fucking, titty obsessed soonyoung, cum play, cum eating, fingering, squirting, brief embarrassment over squirting, brief impact play (soonyoung slaps her ass ONCE), unprotected sex (NOT RECOMMENDED IN REAL LIFE), creampie (again, bec i wrote it), soonyoung calls her baby, overwhelmed but HAPPY and SATISFIED tears

author's notes: i wrote this while recalling a lot of my own harrowing experiences with boys growing up and had a lot of embarrassing fun with it. i hope you all fall in love with this soonyoung the way i did.

There’s something to be said about how you’re hiding in your neighbor’s bush right now but you’re not interested in dealing with it at the moment.

You had been pulled from the comfort of your bed by the smiling, panting, hunk of hair known as your dog Ddalgi. He had been startled awake by the film you were watching and despite the ungodly hour, he had demanded to be taken out for a walk. If he had just closed his eyes and fallen back asleep, you wouldn’t be in such a predicament.

On most nights your neighborhood is dead quiet and pretty much abandoned at 1AM, everyone having retreated into the comfort of their homes. But tonight is an exception and the only other person outside makes you swear something unladylike. It’s Soonyoung.

It’s Soonyoung who had moved into the neighborhood three months ago. Soonyoung who you were able to successfully evade for all those weeks. Soonyoung who had just put a pretty lady into a taxi, his wishes of safety and to let him know when she’s made it home audible just as you rounded the corner from the Jang’s.

You try to stay as still and as quiet as you can, willing him to walk back up his stupid driveway and into his house so you and Ddalgi can make a run for it to your dog’s favorite stop just past his property. Had you been alone you’d be successful, but your Golden Retriever's bladder is ready to burst and his whines and antsy tippy tapping toes are enough to sell you out.

Then comes a call of your name, “Is that you?”

There’s no use in hiding now and you make a face before trying to compose yourself, moving behind the bush and sending a tentative wave his way.

“Evening, Hosh!” You wave from your spots.

You curse every god you can name at the top of your head because of course it had to be Soonyoung.

He waves back tentatively and turns his wrist to look at the time on his watch and you can see him furrowing his eyebrows, probably not believing the time.

Ddalgi is having none of it, by the way, and tugs at you impatiently at the sight of someone new. He’s wagging his tail ferrociously as you two make your way to Soonyoung – your dog excitedly, and you begrudging.

All questions fall from Soonyoung’s lips as he greets Ddalgi with open arms allowing your dog to lick at his face. You’ll forever remember this night as your dog getting further with your teenage crush in his two years of life than you have in all twenty eight of yours.

You start cursing gods again.

You will have to admit that the two of them are cute and you wish you could snap a picture of the sweet moment, Soonyoung’s love for animals still ever present. You have to keep the smile down when he looks up to you from where he’s kneeled down to play with Ddalgi.

Once he’s had enough of your dog’s wet, slobbery love, he gets up, dusts off the imaginary dust from his pants and looks to you expectantly. As always, Soonyoung looks fresh and young and bright. You wonder if you should shield your eyes from his natural brilliance. 

Ddalgi busies himself by sniffing at Soonyoung’s bushes, no doubt ready to unleash his bladder, while you kind of sway there in your ratty sweater and sleep shorts. 

“So!” You start, flashing him a cheesy smile.

“Soooo…” Soonyoung replies with a laugh, shoving his hands into his pockets.

You’re saved by the bell when you hear the telltale sound of your dog going and you can’t help but make a face, “Sorry about that, he really needed to go.”

Soonyoung himself can’t help when he lets out a laugh and you want to melt.

“It’s no bother, really–”

“Also uh, sorry about uh, you know–”

“Oh!” 

You’re both cutting each other off and when you meet his eyes you both can’t help the genuine laughter that spills out of both your mouths. Ddalgi can’t help it either when he lets out a gleeful bark, wanting to join in on the fun.

When you’ve caught your breath, you can’t help that a smile stays on your face.

“What I was trying to say,” You finally get out, “is uh, sorry for walking in on you and your uhh, ya know, lady friend–”

Soonyoung tries to butt in with a “No, it really–”

You stop him with a hand on his chest and a playful, overexaggerated wink.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell dad you’re still up this late or whatever arcane rule of his you’ve broken,” with a slight tug of his leash, you start to lead Ddalgi towards the direction of your house.

Soonyoung gapes at you and you send him a thumbs up.

As you’re walking away he seems to get a hold of his bearings and yells out, disrupting the calm evening, “It wasn’t like that, I swear!”

You turn to him, walking backwards, “Don’t worry, Hosh! I can keep a secret!”

And keep this secret you will. You’d take it to the grave if you have to. Because it was mortifying.

The mere idea that Soonyoung was going to be caught in a dating scandal had been your personal nightmare for years. Harboring a crush was brutal in and of itself, but harboring a crush on a world-renowned football player who you sort of spent your childhood around and is now a  professional playing under your dad’s guidance is a wholly unique experience that very few would be able to relate to.

Your history with Soonyoung started when you were twelve and realized with utmost alarm that boys can be cute. 

You had grown up with an older brother and just that experience alone made you think that boys sucked. But having spent a good chunk of your after-school schedule at the HYBE training facilities meant you were always surrounded by rowdy football players (who smelled and were loud and annoying).

Soonyoung was all of those things, of course. 

But he was also cute.

The realization was quite unwelcome because you liked turning your nose up at the gaggle of teenage boys who barrelled their way into your dad’s office after training, asking for photos and autographs, going on about a new play they wanted to try, and if he’d let them play forward for the next scrimmage.

Such was the life of the head coach for an Under-18 league team.

But none were as consistent as Soonyoung had been. He was in that office after every single practice; hounding your dad about how he had played, and if your dad saw how he improved, and if your dad could teach him that move from the 2005 cup final.

At first it had baffled you. Soonyoung didn’t even play under your dad's guidance. He was just as old as you were and wouldn't be part of your dad's team for another three or so years. One day you gave him a real good look and your eyes hone in on the gloves he had under his arm.

He was a goal keeper.

Playing keeper wasn't a particularly flashy position for most kids—the glamor of scoring goals was usually at the top of most's heads. Kids who were put in front of the goal usually groaned and kicked the dirt at the little ball possession they'd get, and of course, not being able to score any goals.

Even you had preferred to play, during your brief football career, what you then considered a more active position of right back.

But Soonyoung wore his keeper’s gloves like a badge of honor and looked at your dad like the second coming of Christ. Which made sense as your dad had been one of the most prolific goal keepers in the Korean league. You don’t fault Soonyoung for looking up to your dad like a hero, he was yours as well.

While most of the players leave you be to work on whatever homework you brought to kill time, Soonyoung always bade you goodbye after his little consultation session, always a little rushed and mumbling how he might miss his train back home.

Admittedly now it seems a little bare minimum but you were twelve and no other boy really paid you any mind. Soonyoung’s bright eye smile and sweaty face had been tattooed in your brain since then and you looked forward to his rushed, sweaty, and sweet goodbye almost every day.

All of this comes to mind as you faceplant onto your bed and leave Ddalgi to his own devices. Your convoluted past with Soonyoung swims before your eyes like a movie montage and you can’t help but squeeze your eyes shut at your mistakes, lapses, and missed chances. You survived eight years of his professional career without the worry of a WAG coming into the picture but all of that may be at an end at 2AM on a random Sunday.

Sleep had evaded you in the early hours of the morning and what little sleep you did get was subpar.

There’s a frown on your face when you jog down the stairs, opting to join your dad in the dining room for breakfast.             

“Good morning, sweet peach. There’s strawberries and croissants on the table,” your dad greets, briefly looking up from the game of Candy Crush on his iPad. 

Your squinted eyes finally focus on what’s in front of you and you perk up.

“Ooh my favorite!” You press a kiss to his cheek and observe the simple breakfast spread before you.

There’s an open box of strawberries you recognize from the weekend market you visited a few weeks ago. They always run out before you’re able to wipe the sleep from your eyes to try them again.

“Where’s Ddalgi?” You say, staring at a wall, still a bit dazed as you reach for and bite into a strawberry.

“He’s outside with Soonyoung,” You stop chewing.

“Oh,” you start. Now you’re waking up, “So I guess the strawberries and the croissants are—“

“Yup, Soonyoung’s brought them over.” The way your dad says this all so casually makes you want to scream. He hasn’t even looked up from his game. 

You’re still bleary-eyed, but you slide open the side door and find Soonyoung and your Golden Retriever on the patio. They turn their heads to you at the same time, both happily munching on something.

“Kwon, what are you feeding my dog?” Your heart is racing, your mind suddenly going to the possibility of Ddalgi having eaten something he isn’t allowed.

“Strawberries!” Soonyoung gleefully exclaims, raising one in the air, “I found out that they were quite good for them! Whitens their teeth and they have a really healthy enzyme or something.”

“That’s cannibalism,” you frown as Ddalgi sniffles at Soonyoung’s hand, asking to eat another of his namesake. 

“But look, he likes them so much,” You can’t help but roll your eyes as you watch Ddalgi charm yet another guest.

You make soft cooing noises at your dog, but he refuses to separate himself from Soonyoung, who is happily plucking the leaves off of the strawberries, popping them into his mouth, and offering them to Ddalgi.

You frown again. Your dog wasn’t there when you woke up, meaning you were deprived of your routinary 30 minutes of giving him sleepy kisses and cuddling before mustering enough strength to get out of bed.

You sigh and drop yourself onto a sunchair, crossing your arms over your chest. You weren’t wearing a bra.

“What are you doing here Soonyoung?”

He’s trying to avoid your eyes, pretending to squint at the distance, “I was just in the neighborhood and decided to drop off some breakfast.”

“You live like 10 houses down, you’re always in the neighborhood.”

“They’re big houses,” He says in all seriousness, finally meeting your eye.

You try to hold it in, but the second he breaks out in laughter, you can’t help but join in. 

When he catches his breath he says, “I just wanted to make up for last night.”

“Last night?”

“Yeah, I just wanted to say that what you saw… wasn’t what you saw,” he explains poorly.

You nod playfully, putting on a faux smirk, “What I saw doesn’t matter,” You say, “Your business is your business.”

The reality is that you want to make it your business. 

Sleep had come with much difficulty the night prior, your heart reminding your head of all the silly interactions you’d had with Soonyoung growing up. You tossed and turned, thinking of how you could have used them to your advantage. To maybe charm him all those years ago. Maybe then you would have been the pretty thing on his arm during team dinners or wearing his jersey during games.

“Why were you even out that late?” Soonyoung questions, knocking you out of your reverie.

“Woke Ddalgi up while watching a movie,” you explain.

“New one for The Log?”

The Log was the unofficial horror film log you had started on your Instagram a few years back. You didn’t think anyone really paid any attention to that but some of your film buff girlfriends.

“You keep up with The Log?” You ask, genuinely surprised.

“Hell yeah,” He says, eyes lighting up, “I don’t have the time to always watch the movies but I like to know what they’re about. Vernon made us watch that one where they made that girl play Hide and Seek, at the last team dinner.”

“Ready Or Not,” you say, providing him with the title. 

“Yeah, that one!”

“It’s a pretty good one. Good choice.” You nod in acknowledgement at his teammate’s superb film taste. 

“So do you and Ddalgi always do that?” Soonyoung asks, circling back to the previous topic.

“What, 2AM walks? Yup.”

Soonyoung gapes at you then looks to Ddalgi as if he’d understand Soonyoung’s disbelief.

“Yeah! All the time, even!” You begin to explain, “He always has to go out once he’s woken up. It doesn’t even matter what time it is.”

You can hear your dad calling for him from inside the house, catching your attention.

“You should text me,” Soonyoung says all of a sudden.

“What?” You’re genuinely taken aback. You don’t even have his number.

“If you two are going for a walk,” He says earnestly, looking you dead in the eyes, “You should text me.”

You’re stunned speechless. Before you even muster up enough courage to say something, he stands up, gives Ddalgi a pat on the head, and goes inside. 

You’re too much of a coward to do anything. Too afraid to go inside, knowing he’s in there talking with your dad. You wait until you hear him bid your dad goodbye before you and Ddalgi go back inside to eat the strawberries.

Upstairs there’s an unread message on your phone waiting to give you the surprise of your life.

Unknown Sender Today 3:49AM

Hey, I'm sorry about earlier!!! It really wasn't what you think bec That was my cousin 😩

Pls the thought of people thinking the two of us are dating makes me sickkkk

R u there

One day you’re going to get told off for just walking about the HYBE Training Center as you pleased but that day will not be today. The perks of having pretty much grown up in this building meant that you almost knew it inside out and upside down. The promotion from “A Coach’s Daughter” to “The Manager's Daughter” is a big one and one you never really thought of taking full advantage of. 

As you grew a bit older you found your own interests and opted for after school extracurriculars, taking the train home with your friends, and soon, time spent walking through these halls in your school uniform dwindled down to zero.

It makes what you’re doing now a little awkward.

While you weren’t skulking around like a creep, this was far from what it used to be. You’ve completely run out of your childish charm that made being a menace around the center cute. Now you were just Mr. Cho’s temporary stay at home daughter, much too old to be bringing her old man lunch.

You remember walking next to your father, acting self important and snooty, thinking you were far better than the silly boys who spent hours kicking a ball around a pitch only to net one or two goals a game, and celebrating those goals as if they were playing in the San Siro in Italy. You were all just in Gangnam. Of course this was all to veil the poorly hidden enthusiasm you yourself had for the game. And the players. A player.

Soonyoung.

It isn’t uncommon for players to start of their careers in bottom or midrank teams, make a name for themselves, then get transferred to teams in the upper rungs. Several of the Diamonds’ players had such histories. 

But not Soonyoung. 

Soonyoung had grown up in these halls probably more than you did. You don’t know when exactly he joined the Diamonds but he’s one of the few players on the first team that’s been here since his grass roots days. Aside from his dedication to the sport, he was without a question, dedicated to the Diamonds.

You suppose some twenty or so years have led to this.

You’re standing in front of a wall-sized photo of this year’s squad. Soonyoung is standing proudly at the center with his arms folded over his chest and the Captain’s armband wrapped around his bicep. After the shock and upset that wracked the city upon Seungcheol’s retirement and subsequent abdication from the post of captain, Soonyoung had a heavy burden on his shoulders to get the Diamonds back in action.

It was impressive what he’s done in three years.

“You never texted me ba–”

“Oh my fucking GOD!”

You were a second away from caressing poster Soonyoung’s face on the wall when the voice of the real Soonyoung knocked you out of your reverie. You can’t see your face but you know you’re beet red and frazzled when you turn to look at Soonyoung who has a jolly smile on his face, eyes forming crescents.

He’s dressed in training gear, a simplified version of the home kit with the number 1 on the middle of the shirt. He’s slightly flushed from what may be exertion from the session, hands free of the gloves he’s usually wearing.

“You can’t just do that!” You cry, a hand on your chest to ease your rapid heartbeat.

“Sorry, peaches,” He says, the nickname making your ears perk up.

“Please, not that tiredass nickname.” You can’t help but roll your eyes.

Peaches was a family nickname that originated from way back when you were born with no hair on your head but peach fuzz. Your dad had a particular affinity for it and had used it up until now. Everyone else from his close friends to co-workers had taken to the nickname as well and it had become your unofficial Diamonds title.

Now even his players were calling you Peaches.

“It’s a cute name,” Soonyoung says.

“My dad has a penchant for nicknames, truly,” You begin, “Peaches for me, Hoshi for you.”

Hoshi, Soonyoung’s nickname, had been a moniker bestowed upon him by your father some time in the 2010s. Tiger’s gaze, it had meant. An apt description for how Soonyoung’s eyes sharpen when he’s on the pitch. 

He’s become known for it, how he shifts from Soonyoung to Hoshi when the whistle blows, signaling the start of a match. You’ve fallen down a TikTok rabbit hole of these Soonyoung to Hoshi transformation compilations one too many times before. Not that that’s anyone’s business but your own.

“What’re you doing here? Haven’t seen you around here in ages,” Soonyoung says, scratching the back of his head and ruffling his hair. It’s longer than you remember it being, like he hasn’t cut it since the end of the last season.

It looks good.

You hold up the paperbag in your hand, “Wanted to surprise my dad with some lunch, but uh, I haven’t done this in a while, so I kind of forgot to check his schedule before heading over.”

Soonyoung nods in understanding.

“He’s skipping the start of morning practice for a meeting of some sort with Seungcheol. He should be back in maybe twenty for the second half,” Soonyoung explains, ”We’re starting back in a while. You should come watch while you wait.”

Watching training sessions had been a weekend pastime. Getting through morning sessions on Saturdays meant lunch out, heading to the mall, or your favorite, seeing a matinee show afterwards. You’d spent hours sitting around the pitch dedicated for the under-18 team’s coaching staff with a book in your hands (a mere prop, really), secretly eyeing the cute older boys and, when the fates would permit, the under-15 team playing on the adjacent pitch.

You can picture it in your mind’s eye – Soonyoung and Wonwoo, the two members of the Diamond’s current team who were in the same batch of grassroots players, shoving each other as they walked from the dugout to their team’s pitch. They’d offer a polite nod to your father and his staff, and a small wave to you. The memory makes you smile slightly as you nod at Soonyoung and let him lead you to the main pitch.

Throughout the years, the constant exposure to one another led you to befriend the players that stuck around. It was surface level, but the familiarity is welcome as you really take in how long its been since you’ve involved yourself with the Diamonds on a personal level. Despite the teenage angst and the mostly made up agony from those years, you hold them all in your silly little heart dearly.

You suppose its only fair that things have changed since then. When Soonyoung leads you to the main pitch, it’s far bigger than the ones he and Wonwoo used to play on, back when you’d eye them doing drills and blushing when they’d pull their shirts up to clear their eyes of sweat. Now Soonyoung strides onto the pitch with confidence that comes with years of experience and success under his belt. It looks good on him. It looks right, even.

When you turn to the spectator seats you find yourself met with familiar faces. You can't help the excitement that courses through you as pigtails and pink ribbons run towards you.

“Seunghee-ya!” You squeal as a little girl launches herself into your arms.

Seungcheol, your father’s assistant manager and an ex-captain of the Diamonds, had blessed the team with their own little princess four years ago. In no time she had taken to the attention of her uncles and their respective partners like a fish to water. She’s what you imagine you were like at four years old and stomping around the pitch in pink cleats and a mini version of the home kit on.

She peppers your face with kisses and you press a big one to her cheek in response and you carry her on your hip. You turn to Soonyoung and find him grinning at the exchange between the two of you.

You can’t help but blush before saying, “Sorry, its just been so long since I’ve gotten to babysit her.”

The smile on Soonyoung’s face just grows, “Nah, it’s fine. I get it. It’s cute. You both are.”

The flush on your cheeks feels downright painful now as you try to pretend you didn’t hear anything Soonyoung had said and instead head towards where Seunghee’s mom is seated with a few other spectators. Soonyoung just follows behind you, not saying a word.

You go up to Seunghee’s mom, Sunhee, and pass her daughter along as you exchange hellos and how are yous. When you meet her eye, she raises a well manicured eyebrow at you then quickly flicks her eyes over at Soonyoung before eyeing you again.

You make a face as if asking her to drop it, but a smile threatens her lips and you cut her off before she says something that might embarrass you further.

“I was going to bring my dad some lunch, but he wasn’t in his office and I kind of just ended up wandering around. Hoshi found me is all,” You explain.

“Sure.” Is Sunhee’s only acknowledgement before sitting back down with her daughter.

“You’ll be okay hanging out here, right?” Soonyoung says, gesturing to the seats in front of you.

“Yup, I’ll be fine. I’ve been sitting at the WAG bench forever,” You joke, before realizing how it sounded and quickly correcting yourself, “I mean, because of my mom! Like, you know, WAG for over twenty five years, and all of that haha! Not that I’ve ever been a WAG? Like imagine that, haha! I wish!”

You want to scream.

Soonyoung just nods and you bite the smile threatening your lips as sit yourself down next to Sunhee.

“That was like watching a car crash, I couldn’t look awa–”

“Stooop,” You whine, dropping your head onto her shoulder as Soonyoung walks away. 

You had been sitting at the WAG bench for ages. Just like little Seunghee is right now, you had accompanied your mother to many of your dad’s training sessions and matches, both when he was an active player and then later on when he became a part of the coaching staff. It’s only really hitting you now that you were sitting at the WAG bench with no real purpose.

Sunhee and her daughter were her for Seungcheol, and up a few rows you spotted Bang Ahreum sitting in her boyfriend’s lap, giggling. If it were the weekend, and not a random Thursday, you’re sure a few more ladies would fill the seats.

“You’d make a really cute WAG,” Sunhee says with a giggle, “Soonyoung would agree.”

You can’t help the small smile of appreciation at Sunhee’s words, indulging at the little fantasy, but turning towards the slight commotion coming from the players on the pitch as they greet the newcomers of Seungcheol and your father.

You send a big wave towards your dad, catching his attention and seeing him wave and smile back and he walks to you. You fix the little snacks you’d put together in your paperbag and pull one out to hand over to Sunhee with a little wink before standing and dusting off your jeans. You greet your dad with a hug and a kiss to his cheek. He leaves training in Seungcheol’s capable hands, wanting to enjoy the surprise of having you back at HYBE like the old days. 

The players all wave and bid you two goodbye when a loud, “BYE PEACHES!” comes from the chorus of Jun, Woozi, and Wonwoo by the goal at the far end of the pitch. You turn with a laugh and wave goodbye and catch Soonyoung’s eye from behind his teammates.

He sends a small wave and smile before he makes a phone with his gloved hand and brings it up to his ear, quirking his eyebrow, as if in challenge.

You shake your head and offer a little nod, hoping he sees from where he’s watching you.

“What was that about?” Your dad asks with a laugh as well.

You aren’t sure and tell him just as much.

If there was ever a time you thought your dad must’ve been clued in in your debilitating crush on Soonyoung, it was when you were sixteen and in need of a date. Being sent to a stuffy all girls school meant you had to deal with all the annoying ceremonials and traditions like classes spent on ladylike dancing and good manners in front of boys.

That was all to be put into practical use in your 10th year, where those in your year were allowed to take part in a charity dinner. It was really just some lame version of American dances that your school had pirated and you had dreaded since entering high school. While it was really a family and friends thing, people really mostly paid attention to two things: what you wore and who your date was.

Most students played it safe by bringing their parents and wearing their mom’s jewelry, but it was the perfect opportunity for the upper grades to bring their boyfriends and show off to everyone that they were so cool and mature. You want to say you’re unaffected, but upon hearing that most of your friends were brining people other than their dads, you were starting to sweat.

Despite having been around boys your whole life thanks to your dad’s work, it wasn’t like that ever took fruit in any way, shape, or form. At sixteen you had never had anyone show any interest in you aside from asking about your dad or if they could somehow get into the club through your connections.

Your dad had likely warned away any interested guys or set a rule of ‘hands off my daughter!’ from an early age. It wasn’t until recently did you find out that your suspicions were somewhat true and the team had a long standing rule that family was off limits, all thanks to Jeonghan’s girlfriend cluing you in.

In addition to that, after you’d started putting more time into your extra curriculars and found hobbies you could be passionate about. Your interest in meeting boys and finding romantic connections simply just didn’t register. At this age even Soonyoung was just sitting at the corner of your mind, your crush only making itself known if your dad mentions him in passing.

With the charity dinner coming closer and closer, you were running out of time to look for someone to take you. Your brother and any of his friends were out of the picture, all off to college and too busy to take you to what he’d deem a silly little dance. You had no cousins your age that lived around the area, so that was out of the picture. And unlike your friends, you had zero to no male friends to ring in a favor to.

The realization had dawned over you slowly and torturously–were you so undesirable that no boy would look your way if not for the man you called your dad? Was the only time you could interact with the male species through your after school drama club? It was all so mortifying.

You had explained as such to your mother as you faceplanted onto your parents’ bed, dumping onto her the woes of being a teenager and the troubles of girlhood that you were merely at the cusp of.

“You can ask your dad if he has any players who can take you,” She had suggested offhandedly.

You’d already considered that weeks prior. You knew that some of his players were already making names for themselves in the juvenile leagues and Under-18 National Team. Surely bringing one of those players would have you as the Belle of the Ball. But you quickly shut that down because the only way that would happen was if you asked your dad. That in itself was an embarrassing enough idea that you want to die just thinking about it.

With your mother bringing it up again, you can’t help but partially entertain the idea. If she brought it up, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

During dinner that evening the topic of the Charity Dinner is brought up in the middle of one of your dad’s training stories. He was going on about how close he had gotten with this crop of Under-18s, watching them grow since he became part of the club’s training staff after his retirement from professional playing.

Soonyoung in particular was growing up to be quite the goal keeper.

You tried to keep your eyes down and trained to your quickly cooling Samgyetang, avoiding either of your parents’ eyes but it was to no avail as your mom joyfully mentioned the school activity. You didn’t need a mirror to know how red your ears had gotten.

“Do you think Soonyoung would mind taking her to the Charity dinner?”

You wanted to drown yourself in the soup when you brother laughed and your dad had coughed.

“You’re thinking of asking the starting Keeper of the U-18 National Team to take this loser to her pseudo-prom?” Your brother mocked.

You sent him a scathing look as your mother said his name as a warning, “It’d be a good idea! Soonyoung’s a really good boy.”

“I–uh, I’ll check with him,” Your dad had said and that was that.

The days that followed that were torturous but you were hopeful. You couldn’t help yourself when you had daydreamed about what kind of night the Charity Dinner would be with Soonyoung on your arm, and you were unable to stop yourself from gushing to your friends about the possibility of a teenage celebrity coming as your date.

Your date.

Your date.

You were over the moon with the realization that your crush was going to be escorting you to this event and that it could possibly a kicking off point for you two to get closer and maybe become something more.

papa 💛 Today 1:28PM

were you able to asksoonyoung?

I’ll ask him later.

That Monday you had texted your dad.

Training was every day except Fridays and weekends, so you had known they’d see each other.

Not wanting to sound too eager, you had dropped the subject and thought that you’d allow your dad to his task.

On Tuesday, you had heard nothing.

On Wednesday, you were going out of your mind in anticipation. More and more people were talking about the dinner and your big talk about your date had started to taste ashen in your mouth.

After school you couldn’t help yourself as you sent a “Did you ask Soonyoung yet? What did he say?” off to your dad’s number, unable to focus as you mess up the lines in a monologue you knew by heart just last week.

After rehearsals you had felt your heart lodge itself in your throat at you took in the words on your phone, trying to keep the pressure building in your temples at bay.

papa 💛 Today 2:04PM

did u ask soonyoung yet? what did he say?

I am your dad, not one of your friends. You still need to talk to me with respect.

Soonyoung has a prior commitment on that day and can’t attend the dinner.

You felt hot tears well at your eyes as you blinked rapidly to shoo them away and wiped at your face to avoid any questions from your peers.

It didn’t help that your dad had picked you up that day, the car ride tense and completely awkward for both of you, you’re sure. You had grasped at straws to make sure the topic of the dinner or of Soonyoung did not come up, your usual How did training go? out of the question. Instead you had lied about how good rehearsals had gone and how happy your moderator was with your performance.

Once you got home you had skipped dinner and cried in the shower while Taylor Swift blared from your iPod Touch.

Drama really was the perfect club for you.

With Soonyoung unavailable, you had decided to go stag—which was a perfectly acceptable decision. Still, you felt the sting of rejection as it burned deep in your heart. Your dress was gray, a perfect match for the heavy raincloud that hung over your head, you thought. And though it swayed and flounced perfectly when you twirled, you couldn’t help the dissatisfaction painted on your face.

When you had dragged yourself down the stairs, you were already bemoaning how you didn’t want to take any photos, but was surprised to see your dad standing at the foot of the stairs, fixing his cufflinks while your mom adjusted his tie. A gray that matched your dress perfectly. You took his arm proudly and smiled for all the photos your mom directed your brother to take.

That night your dad drove to your school in his flashiest car, made a jaw dropping donation, and pretended like he could dance. On his suggestion, you had left the dinner earlier and stopped by a Lotteria instead. You rested your chin on his shoulder while he ordered your usuals and you ate and laughed before heading home.

That night he had pressed a long kiss to your forehead before sending you off to bed.

Mustering enough courage to finally text Soonyoung takes about a week. 

His number is saved as a conservative Kwon Soonyoung (Diamonds) as if he was a business associate you didn't want to get mixed up with your regular contacts. You stare at the conversation window for longer than than deemed normal, though. You haven’t been this nervous to message a boy since you were a freshman in university, that by the time you actually send the message, Ddlagi is whining and anxious to get going.

kwon soonyoung (diamonds) Today 2:04PM

would u happen to be awake ?

Soonyoung’s swift reply almost gives you whiplash because you hadn’t expected it to come so soon, or for it to come at all.

kwon soonyoung (diamonds) Today 11:04PM

would u happen to be awake ?

You bet I am

When you look at yourself in the mirror, you find that you're far from what you deem as “Soonyoung worthy.” But when your phone pings with another message, you find that you don’t have the luxury of time. 

It also wouldn’t make any sense if Soonyoung ever caught you outside and your “just woke up like this” couture was inconsistent. Right. Baggy hoodie and pajama shorts will definitely have to do.

                                                                                                                                                   You’re kind of at a loss when you read the message as you clip on Ddlagi’s leash and put on a pair of outdoor shoes. Soonyoung becoming your neighbor in the year of our Lord 2023 was not something you considered, and definitely not something you thought would ever lead to tandem dog walking.

But when you open your door, it kind of takes your breath away when you see him, soft and barefaced in his own ratty hoodie and sweats combo, smiling at you from behind the garden gate. This image of him almost rewrites the last ten or so years of his semi-absence in your life, offering a chance to relive some teenage fantasies you’d set aside as impossibilities.

“Hi,” comes your small, hesitant whisper of a greeting when you’re standing face to face.

“Hi,” he replies simply, a hint of hesitation as well, but he’s smiling, still.

Ddalgi is a bundle of excitement when he sees the newest addition to your night walk and tugs at your arm impatiently, wanting to shower Soonyoung with kisses, the gate between them be damned. It makes Soonyong let out that little laugh that makes you want to die and the small smile he gives you spreads on his face wider at Ddalgi’s joy.

Your delay in texting him had come from the fear of not having anything to talk about. Despite all the years together you weren’t always actually together. You worried that the initial connection of being in your dad’s office or within the halls of HYBE has withered away any possible topic for you to broach without it being forced or awkward.

God, you always hated the talking stage. And while that’s obviously not what this is (you think), you don’t want to mess up at least being friends with Soonyoung. And you should have known that would be enough to break the tension with Soonyoung. Conversation comes easily between the two of you with him as a natural people person and you as a natural yapper.

“You managed to catch the game today?” He starts.

“I managed to catch it in my free time,” You answer coyly.

Partially true. Being in between jobs meant nearly every minute of the day was ‘free time.’

“And?” He goads.

“And what?”

“What’d you think!”

“That late game save was insane,” It seems like you’re laying it on thick but the way Soonyoung preens makes it worth it.

“Nah, it was nothi—“

“But!” You interject.

Soonyoung gives you an incredulous look, “BUT?”

“But you challenged it too late,” you start, “You could have definitely gone for the tackle while he was a ways away from the goal.”

“No way, Kang would’ve made that shot!” He argues back, he’s amused by your argument but doesn’t believe you.

“He wouldn’t have!” You laugh at how badly he isn’t taking your criticism. “Kang is a right foot kicker, he was coming at you from the far left, the angle was all wrong for him!”

“What! How can you do that?” He accuses.

“Do what?”

“Say exactly what coach did,” Soonyoung says as you two walk past the Jang’s and the bush you so unceremoniously hid behind that night.

“No way,” You say in slight disbelief, “But that just means I’m right!”

“I–” Soonyoung starts, “That’s not the point!”

“Sure it wasn’t, Captain,” You smirk and let Ddalgi drag you over to the patch of grass by Soonyoung’s own gated property.

“You should come see the game in person next time you’re free,” He suggests, shoving his hands deep into his hoodie pockets and avoiding your eyes.

His eyes look a little pink from the cold.

“I don’t know…” Just as it was with the training center, you haven’t really been as present at the Gangnam stadium as you did when you were much younger.

“Oh come on, you used to go all the time when your dad was first made manager!”

You blush at that. You try not to read into it, but there’s a little bit of a rush that comes over you at the idea of Soonyoung taking notice of you back then, even if it was some 8 years ago and you were probably a completely different person.

“I don’t know…” You say, not wanting to commit to anything, “It’s just been so long and I’m worried it’ll feel a bit awkward just popping up like I did back at HYBE.”

“No way! You’ve been Diamonds family since like, conception!” He argues.

You give him a pointed look.

“Sunhee and Seunghee come a lot, Ahreum tries to make it to just about every game too,” Soonyoung lists down faces you’re familiar with, “And I mean, you can’t beat the home crowd.”

You can’t help the smile that blooms on your face then, “That’s very true, Captain. You drive a hard bargain.”

He smirks as if to say well, what can I say!

Then he says, eyes trained to the sky, “If it means anything, I’d want you to be there too.”

There’s a beat of silence.

“Yeah?” You ask and he finally looks back.

“Yeah.”

“Okay. I’ll come to the next home game.”

You’re standing by the path that leads straight to Soonyoung’s garden gate and you tut at Ddalgi to head back towards your house as he’s relieved himself while you were conversing with Soonyoung.

“I guess this is where we say goodnight?” You say, walking backward.

“What, no way,” Soonyoung says, following you, “I’ll walk you home.”

“Soonyoung, we’re literally at your house,” You deadpan.

“Yeah, so what?” He waves it off and jogs next to you and following your stride, “I want to walk you home.”

kwon soonyoung (diamonds) Today 10:42PM

Meet you at your gate

This text becomes Soonyoung’s go-to on nights and early mornings when he joins you and Ddalgi for short walks around the neighborhood. Even with the football season on going and your job hunting taking up both of your daytime schedules, you’ve found these walks to be the most sought after moments of your day.

Having these twenty or so minutes with Soonyoung almost everyday feels like some kind of silly dream come true. His presence feels less like something out of the ordinary, and you feel yourself beginning to feel less like you’re fumbling for something everytime you and your dog step out to meet him.

kwon soonyoung (diamonds) Today 9:36PM

No walk tonight?

had his monthly checkups today he's out like a light sorry 😔

Nah its cool You still down for a walk though?

bet

Without Ddalgi there to serve as the focal point of your walk, you’re left with little choice but to put all your attention on him. And for someone who's been doing that for most of their pre-teen years, as a twenty eight year old it serves as quite the struggle. Despite your newfound confidence in spending time with him here and there, somehow the air feels a little different this evening.

Soonyoung is set to take off for international duty in a few days and you’re loathe to admit that you’re a little sad that this little growing habit of late night walks was taking a little bit of a break. You’re lost in your thoughts when Soonyoung, expectedly, breaks the silence.

“I’m happy we’re becoming good friends,” He says.

A little goofy smile comes onto your face. You know it’s a little silly looking because you can feel the corners of your lips twitching as you keep your cool.

“We are friends, Soonyoung,” You say, “Unless, I’ve been reading things wrong these past like, fifteen years.”

“No, I mean real friends,” He insists with a bright smile, “Like friends who do stuff together and talk about their interests and stuff.”

He’s right. You’ve always just been in each other’s peripheries, but up until recently, you had never really had any real conversations or interactions with each other.

“We were around each other so much growing up,” He reminisces, “I remember you were always doing homework in your dad’s office or like, reading a book on the pitch. How you could focus, I have no idea. We were so fucking loud.”

You flush at the belated attention. Back then you had done your best to seem aloof and above it all, but the idea that Soonyoung had somehow still seen you is a lot to take in so many years later.

“I guess when you put it like that,” You start, “It is nice being friends with you after all these years.”

Friends is just the start of what you want with Soonyoung. But at this point you feel like it would be a disservice and dishonest to seek something more from him. You can’t imagine what his life must be like, if Soonyoung from sixteen years ago would have ever thought this would be his reality. So you ask him as much.

“Is it hard?”

“What is?” He clarifies.

“Making friends?”

He gives you a funny look, as if he’s not quite sure what you’re getting at.

“I mean as you, you know? Captain of the Cheongdam Diamonds, part of the World Cup team last year, and like, just being a professional player and all of that.” 

Soonyoung hums for a bit, considering his answer, “I guess it’s easy for Hoshi.” 

Now it’s your turn to give him a confused look.

“Every season we get new members on the squad and as captain, I become friends with them. Meeting new people at events or work engagements, I’m able to build good bonds and stuff like that. But I think that’s Hoshi who's good at it.”

“And Soonyoung?” You suggest.

“I think Soonyoung is a little shy,” He laughs, blowing at his hands to keep them warm. You feel your fingers twitch at your sides, wondering what his hands would feel like clasped between your own, your breath warming them up.

“Sometimes I’m still a little shocked and like, astounded that this is my life,” The two of you have gotten to his house now and he takes a moment to take the property in.

Just as many of the other houses and properties in the neighborhood, its quite a house. More modern than those on your street due to how newly developed it is. It’s definitely something he should be proud of. As the daughter of an ex-professional player, you’re aware of the economic benefits that come with the job.

And Soonyoung is very good at his job.

“Did you always know you’d make it?” You prod, joining him in marveling at his home of just four months.

He lets out a bark of a laugh, “I think I ran towards this dream like I had no other choice. I think I would have rather died than be anything other than me now.”

You turn to look at him and smile, “Well if anyone deserves it, it's you.”

“Oh come on, now you’re just laying it on thick.” He says.

“No way!” You argue, “I’ve seen every step you’ve taken to get here, Captain. You deserve it.”

“Don’t remind me, you’ve seen me through just about every goddamn phase I’ve ever been through,” He whines, rubbing at his face in embarrassment, “My academy days were brutal. Fucking Wonwoo cruised through that shit so smooth.”

You can’t help but laugh at the memory of the two of them. While Wonwoo wasn’t as permanent a fixture in your father’s office as Soonyoung was, you still saw him quite often, with him and Soonyoung stuck at the hip for years.

The left-back had always been tall and lean even as a pre-teen with black hair swooping across his forehead in what was a then-fashionable mop. There were always girls giggling in the stands talking and gushing about Wonwoo. Then you remember Soonyoung who stood next to him with his braces and choppy mullet and soft round cheeks and you can’t help but smile fondly at the days gone by.

“I think you did fine on your own.”

Soonyoung shakes his head as if there was no way you’d understand his boyhood woes, “Still, I think twelve year old me would piss himself if he ever found out we’d made it pro, we live in this house, we’re friends with you.”

Your ears perk up at that but you bite the smile threatening your lips, “Yeah, why’s that?”

“Oh come on, don’t make me say it,” He says, cheeks tinged pink.

“No! You already said it so I might as well come out with it!” You laugh.

He gapes at you for a second before shutting his mouth, shutting his eyes in embarrassment, then turning to look at you again.

“Okay, for a lot of the guys in my crop of players back then, you were kind of like the first girl we ever knew and wanted to impress, you know? It didn’t help that your dad was an actual living legend.” He says, the flush on his face seemingly contagious as you feel a warmth in your face as well.

“Shut up, now you’re just gassing me up.”

“Now you can’t take the heat?” He laughs as you two continue walking, your heart at ease as you walk past his house and not back towards your own, your walk far from over.

“Well they can all rest easy, I’m not much to fight over now,” You say lightly.

“Why not?” Soonyoung says, almost dead serious.

The atmosphere around you feels a little heavier now and you feel as though you must have said the wrong thing. You want to smack your head for feeling a bit too comfortable around Soonyoung to let the thing in the back of your mind rear its ugly head. 

You always knew your self deprecation was going to kick you in the ass one day.

“It’s nothing!” You panic, “I’m just saying, I’m nothing to write home about, is all!”

“Why would you say that?” Soonyoung says, genuinely confused.

“I–it’s nothing, Soonyoung,” You fight to get out, “Can we drop it?”

Soonyoung only nods and allows you the comfort of a change in topic. He talks about their upcoming match against Croatia; how he wishes one day he’ll be able to captain at the national level, talking about how well his nickname matches the white Tiger logo of the National team.

You’re thankful he doesn’t bring anything up for the rest of the walk, but it should come as no surprise when he walks you to your gate he speaks up on it.

“If it's worth anything, I think there’s something to write home about. Tons. Paragraphs, even.” He says it lightly, jokingly even.

The smile on his face is so radiant that it tickles that little spot in your heart that triggers a smile of your own.

“Goodnight, Soonyoung.”

“Sweet dreams!” He shouts as he walks backwards, heading to his own house, as if not wanting to turn away from you until he sees you smile.

Unknown Sender Today 8:19AM

hi hi since the boys are out on international duty u wanna lunch w sunhee n meeee oh!!! this is ahreum btw 🩷 i amsked gyu to ask soonie oppa for ur number but ur meanie bf wouldnt give it to me

so i asked coach cho hihi hope u dont mind!!

save my num pls!!! 🩷🩰🫧

WE 🩷 WAGS @KFAWAGs • may 8 New photo of #BANGAHREUM from the Fred Jewelry event! #KimMingyu #K9M #CDFC

ahreum (omg) 🩷🩰🫧 Today 8:19AM

save my num pls!!! 🩷🩰🫧

ahreum hi! uhhh idk how to say this but soonyoung and i arent dating

girl what

“That makes absolutely no sense,” Ahreum says, her pretty eyelashes fluttering as she blinks at you in disbelief.

“Ahreum,” Sunhee warns as she takes a sip of her coffee.

“But the lovestagrams!” She cries out.

You don’t know what to tell her that won’t disappoint her. It’s 3PM on a Friday and you’ve spent about three hours convincing two extremely well known WAGs that you are not in fact dating Kwon Soonyoung.

Unfortunately.

Grabbing lunch with Sunhee and Ahreum is more intimidating in theory than practice. While worlds apart in their daily lives, they were probably the two most publicized WAGs of their respective generations. 

Back when Seungcheol had been front and center for the Diamonds, Sunhee had been a permanent fixture at games. She was the WAG for ages with how long she and Seungcheol have been together. She was basically like a cool, funny older sister to you and much of the current squad.

Ahreum on the other hand was an enigma of her own. It should come as no surprise that the Diamonds’ flashiest player would have a girlfriend that matched him in renown. Mingyu’s girlfriend may stand at just five feet tall, but she commanded the room easily with her light presence and sometimes overly excitable energy. 

Must come with the job of being a top female K-Pop idol.

It should come as no shock that after your brief exchange over text, Ahreum had insisted you change into a cute little springtime dress and took a cab to a lunch spot in Garosu-gil within the hour. She had dragged you away from the maître d’ the second you arrived to sit you down in front of her and Sunhee. She’s been trying to pull out every single sordid detail of your debilitating childhood crush on the Diamonds’ captain and keeper all afternoon. 

“They aren’t lovestagrams,” You try to argue, “They’re just regular, you know, posts!”

“But they matched!” She cries out, “I was so close to turning on notifications for both of you in case you updated while I was at practice or something!”

“I guess it just happened. We went to some nice places, that's all.” You wished there was something there, but Soonyoung has had a wealth of opportunities if he was interested in you. He’s had them since you were like, twelve.

“Maybe he’s just shy,” Sunhee offers, “I saw you two at training a few weeks back. There was something there.”

“Something! Something is good,” Ahreum nods, excitedly, “I can definitely work with something!”

“Noooo,” You whine, “No working on anything!”

Ahreum flashes you an overly exaggerated frown, “Why not. You two are so cute.”

You aren’t blind to what's been happening. How you once distantly existed to Soonyoung and how rapidly that had grown into this budding friendship. And while it was fun (and at times lovely) to fantasize about what it would be like if it grew into something more, Soonyoung’s admittance that this friendship is something he appreciated keeps you grounded.

“He just doesn't like me like that,” You say, trying not to sound defeated.

“This doesn’t make sense with my fantasy.”

“I’m perfectly okay with how we are right now,” Lie. “It took years for me to befriend him like this, so I really appreciate it for what it is.” Truth.

“Years? What!” Now it was Sunhee who was shocked.

“What do you mean what!”

“Have you and Soonyoung seriously been, you know, skirting around each other for years?”

You roll your eyes playfully, “We weren’t skirting around each other, Sunhee.”

She gives you a dead serious look.

“It just–it just never happened!” You blurt out, “I had a silly little teenage crush on him and was too socially inept to do anything about it.”

Speaking it out into the world feels pathetic but it’s also been a while since you were able to let it out. You consider keeping your cards to your chest, but when you look at Sunhee and Ahreum who are both lovely and just want to chitchat, you think it shouldn’t hurt to lend your stupid teen years to today’s gossip session.

So you tell them about your disastrous attempt to have Soonyoung escort you to your Year 10 Charity Dinner and find yourself being able to smile at how melodramatic you were about it. They listen with rapt attention, coo at your antics, and can’t help the visceral melting when you retell your dad’s knight in shining armor moment.

“That shouldn’t have kept you away from Soons for so long!” Sunhee considers.

 “It didn’t! Not really,” You start, “I think I kind of just had to wake up a bit after that.”

And wake up you did.

After the Charity Dinner you realized you could never show your face back at the HYBE training center, or at least in front of Soonyoung’s squad. There was no way you could sit on the pitch and be perceived by him as Coach Cho’s daughter who couldn’t get a date and had to pull strings with her dad to get one. And all things considered, even with the nepo baby connections you still showed up with your dad on your arm.

“If I’m not mistaken, Soonyoung started playing for my dad that year,” You reminisce, “I was just too embarrassed to be in front of him, you know?”

“Soonie must have hated that,” Ahreum pouts, picking at the croissant on her plate.

You doubt it, really.

“I think,” You start, “I think I never considered being friends with Soonyoung because I was so fixated on like, liking him, even if it was probably just a silly crush, you know?”

“Oh come on, it wasn’t silly. We all have crushes! It’s a teen girl thing!” Sunhee comforts.

It is a teen girl thing, you agree. But when you look at the two women in front of you, you can’t help but marvel at how they probably cruised through their teen girl crushes. Ahreum had probably just turned twenty when she and Mingyu got together while Sunhee was literally married to her teen crush, having been Seungcheol’s childhood love, their love story a favorite among Diamonds fans.

“Well, silly or not, I was sure he didn’t like me back then,” You laugh at the bitterness of years gone by suddenly making itself known, “He showed up at my school’s charity dinner the following year.”

If his rejection of your invite was the final nail on the coffin, showing up with someone else the following year buried you six feet under.

In your 11th year, you and your friends had all decided to go stag and be each other’s dates, buying matching flowers to pin to your hair and making a whole day out of getting ready together. It was such an exciting way to look at an event that was so bittersweet to you, the unnecessary burn of humiliation still there whenever you thought about the previous year’s failed attempt to get a date.

The joy lasted for maybe three hours. After all the formalities of a fancy dinner and a charity auction for the parents in attendance, the event turns into a run of the mill dance with a subpar DJ and a makeshift dance floor. You’d skipped this part the year prior and dancing like a crazy person screaming the lyrics to Best Coast’s Boyfriend to your friends was something you were looking forward to.

You don’t get to do either because first of all, you put too much trust in the DJ to play anything other than A Thousand Years and Enchanted. Second would be that, in the midst of all the people in attendance, a face you never thought you’d see in your school gym is suddenly right in front of yours.

Soonyoung was standing there in an ill fitting blue suit and his hair haphazardly gelled down and he was your every silly daydream come to life.

You remember opening your mouth to say something to him, maybe a greeting, a question on why he was there, but you quickly shut it when his attention is pulled away by an upperclassman you weren’t familiar with.

When your gazes break, the silence that seemingly engulfed you disappears and you remember where you are and the implications of Soonyoung being there.

Boys were prohibited from campus except on select days you could count on one hand. He had to be there with someone. And that someone wasn’t you.

Your hands had grown clammy at the realization and you scramble to get your bearings. When you turn around to run off to the bathroom to maybe cry in frustration, you find yourself face to face with a boy who offers you his hand and a friendly smile.

Your poor self esteem had taken such a beating from that mere shared look with Soonyoung that this hand in front of you had felt like such a kindness. So you graciously took his hand as the opening beats of Boyfriend had come on the shitty gym speakers.

kwon soonyoung (diamonds) Today 11:37PM

Heard you had lunch out with the girls

??? howd u know

Ahreum posted on her burner

SHE HAS A BURNER??? whatd she post :(( UR SUCH A GOSSIP!!

Me??? For all I know you talked shit about me with Ahreum and Sunhee all afternoon

what happens at girl lunch stays at girl lunch

That just about confirms it! You guys were talking about me!

all bad things i promise

And here i was buying your and ddlagi gifts

oh my god soonyoung u shouldnt have

Nah its cool I just saw something and picked it up

well thank u ddalgi and i eagerly await your arrival

Is this your way of saying you miss me?

i said no such thing also!! what doin

Just got back to my room from dinner Feels weird not to go on a walk right now

well rest assured ddlagi has gone on an ill timed walk already he's down

You should take his lead then Sweet dreams, peaches

goodnight soonyoung 🤍

Mingyu’s surprise birthday party was being held at this swanky private speakeasy that was a favorite of the Diamonds’ striker according to Ahreum.

Initially you had felt discomfort when you arrived. You had come down the stairs and was immediately greeted by the smiling face of Ha Yves. You didn’t know who would be considered as party guests for people as popular and famous as Ahreum and Mingyu, but you shouldn’t have been surprised if they were all celebrities or A-Listers.

The room was filled with the members of AM♡RE still scuttling around, adding finishing touches to the long table in the middle of the room. Despite the burning feeling of being out of place, you couldn’t help the smile that had spread on your face watching these celebrities put on a surprise for a friend’s birthday.

You suddenly feel unprepared for the evening, your usual extroverted flourish having diminished quite a bit lately. 

The group is quick to greet you with a squeal of “Unnie!” and Choi Yena, who you’re familiar with, gives you a quick squeeze of a hug. The warm welcome eases your mind, introductions are given and you tell them you’re at their disposal with the decorating.

You quickly learn that this evening is a private affair of friends and family as more of Mingyu’s friends arrive, players from other teams that you’re familiar with, Ahreum’s brother being one of them. The implication of you being a part of that classification makes the pleasant feeling in your stomach grow, and the weight of imposition lifts from your shoulders.

You’re standing on a chair and holding up a gold foil balloon, helping Yves decide on the best placement when a bellowing “AMOOOOOOREEEE” cuts through the music playing through the speakers.

You bite your lip to stop the smile attempting to split your face in two.

Yves abandons you to go on and play the good leader and greets the members of the squad who were able to come, giving fist bumps and quick high fives. After the typical niceties, Soonyoung catches your eye, and laughs.

“What’re you doing all the way up there, Peaches?” He walks up to you, eyeing you from head to toe, and sending warmth throughout your body following the same path, “If you fall from there, you’ll be out for the rest of the season.”

The smile wins this round. You roll your eyes as he offers you a hand to help you down.

You pray your hand isn’t sweaty as you take his hand in yours, trying to step down as gracefully as you can without flashing the whole room. Your skirt much too short for standing on chairs even with the stockings you (thankfully) decided on last minute. You steady yourself with a quick grip on Soonyoung’s shoulder with your other hand.

Once you’re safely on the ground you flash him a thankful smile as you let go of his hand and shoulder.

“You good?” He asks, voice now a little quieter, only for you to hear.

You offer him a small nod, “Yeah, all good now. Better now.”

The rest of the night goes according to, if not better than, planned. Mingyu had jogged down the stairs with Ahreum and played the part of shocked boyfriend perfectly, beaming at her as she pulled the string of a party popper. He planted the biggest kiss onto her awaiting lips as you and the rest of the guests hooted at their PDA.

Mingyu flipped everyone off mid-kiss, of course.

You found yourself seated shoulder to shoulder with Soonyoung on your left and Vernon to your right, while Wonwoo sat in front of you. You’d spent the majority of the evening discussing films with the two of them while Soonyoung remarked about ones he’d yet to see, saying, “We should add that to our list.”

The list being an ever growing shared note on the Notes app on both your phones with a working list of movies you think he needs to watch.

“Dude, just get a Letterboxd account,” Vernon suggests.

“I said that too!” You laugh.

“Haha, okay laugh all you guys want,” Soonyoung says, attempting to stand up for himself, “But I just figured that shared note thing out and that works just fine for us, thank you!”

You elbow him playfully and he sticks his tongue out in retaliation.

“I’m getting another Coke, Wons you want one?” Soonyoung asks as he downs the last of his soda.

“Nah, I’m good. I’ll get another later.”

He turns to you, “Another daiquiri, passenger princess?”

You flush as he pretty much announces to everyone who was paying attention that you were coming home with him. Well, technically just riding his car to his house then walking on foot to yours as has become your routine from nights out.

“No, I think I’m good for tonight.” The realization that you were going to be seated next to him on the way home quickly sobers you up. There was no way you could get sloshed now.

He nods in understanding as he undrapes his arm from around the back of your chair and gets up.

Vernon has been pulled into a conversation by the other end of the table and you find yourself sitting in comfortable silence with Wonwoo.

Soonyoung’s best friend has become a more familiar presence in your life just as much as Soonyoung himself. It’s nice, you think, getting to know the quieter half of this duo you’ve known for so long.

You learned that Wonwoo’s not really all that quiet when Soonyoung is there to prod and pick on him, and that Soonyoung is so much more easily humbled with the keeper of all his secrets present.

“You two look like a couple,” Wonwoo says after a while.

You gawk at him, unable to think of a quick enough retort.

“Just say, ‘thank you, Wonwoo’”” He says with an easy laugh, quoting himself from a few days ago.

Now you scowl, “Take that back, Wonwoo!”

“Why? It’s the truth!” He argues, “I don’t think either of you notice how close you two always are.”

“We are not!”

“You can’t tell because you’re too busy ogling my best friend. I can because you guys keep asking me to come hang out with you two so it seems like you’re not out on a date!” There’s a smile on his face and while he’s accusatory, Wonwoo seems to get some joy out of pointing out your glaringly obvious crush on Soonyoung.

“You’re delusional,” you attempt to argue and Wonwoo can only sputter at you.

“Takes one to know one?” He retaliates. 

Before you can stick your tongue out at him, pulling a card from Soonyoung’s repertoire of moves, the far end of the table starts to sing Happy Birthday.

Soonyoung is precariously carrying a two tier birthday cake and a beer pint filled to the brim with ice and Coke as he yells out the words to Happy Birthday. He’s beaming as he presents the cake to Mingyu and Ahreum urges Mingyu to make a wish.

He closes his eyes quickly, makes quick work of blowing out all the candles and giving Ahreum a kiss on the cheek.

Soonyoung cheers the loudest again and almost drops the cake as he sets it down on the table. His antics makes the rest of the guests laugh but next to him Yves, playfully whacks him on the shoulder and chastises him with a litany you can’t hear from where you’re seated.

Soonyoung bats his eyes at her and pouts cutely, no doubt attempting to ease her annoyance. You feel the blood draining from cheeks as the green monster of jealousy creeps up behind you and you avert your eyes from the scene. 

When you turn back to your drink, now more water than strawberry daiquiri, you catch the look on Wonwoo’s face.

There’s a devious little smirk on his silly little cat boy face and you want to slap it off of him.

“Quit it, Jeon.”

“I don’t know what you mean, Cho.”

“I mean that look on your face,” You say with an index finger wagging in front of his glasses, “I don’t like it.”

“I don’t have a look on my face,” He laughs as he sips on his glass of Coke.

“Yes, you do! It's a sneaky little face,” you pout, “Don’t you have your own love life to worry about?”

His smirk grows into a full on grin, his teeth on full display, “First of all, no I don’t. And second, so you admit it? You’re in love with Soonyoung.”

Your heart is pounding in your ears. You don’t dare to say anything out loud for fear of who might hear because you don’t know what to say.

“Wonwoo I—“

“You know, you don’t have to worry about that,” he says, “You don’t have to worry about anything. Not with Soonyoung. Never with Soonyoung.”

Not long after everyone had their fill of the cake Ahreum lovingly baked for the occasion, people started splitting off into their own little groups around the bar to talk or have more drinks. Still, you were seated next to Soonyoung, but this time making a conscious effort to keep a comfortable distance between you two. His arm may still be draped around your chair, but this time you rested your crossed arms on the table in front of you, trying your best to stay focused on the story Heejin was telling.

You almost jolt in shock at the warm hand that rests on your knee and the breath at your ear when Soonyoung whispers, “Let’s go ahead?”

When you turn to him and try not to flinch at the close proximity between the two of you.

“You look like you’re about to nod off,” he chuckles.

Humming and nodding in agreement with him, Soonyoung clears his throat and announces, “You guys keep going but we’re headed out.”

There’s a chorus of disappointed “awws” that follow as the two of you stand and Soonyoung helps you into the coat you brought for the cold. When you turn to wave goodbye to everyone still at the party, you see Wonwoo giving you a shit eating grin and you fail to stop yourself from sticking your tongue out at him one last time that night.

“D’you have fun tonight?” Soonyoung asks, eyes flicking over to you for a second before turning back to the road before you.

“Hhm, yeah. I’m glad I went,” You say, “I almost bailed for a second.”

“Yeah? Why’s that?”

You consider for a moment if you should tell Soonyoung about your afternoon before the party.  But you worry that maybe trauma dumping on him after having had such a good evening with his friends and teammates would sour the day. So you keep your mouth shut and try to wrack your brain for an acceptable reason to turn down an invite.

“I bombed at practice today,” He says out of nowhere but lightly, with a bit of a chuckle, and you know that a corner of his lip is upturned.

The focus you put in trying not to turn your head and watch him drive is commendable. You try your utmost best not just keep your eyes on him as he does the most mundane of things.

“Got into trouble for it, your dad yelled at me and all. Said I wasn’t focused.” He clicks his tongue, shakes his head and continues telling you about his day. “It didn’t get better of course, ‘cause I started overthinking it and I got worse. But you know what?”

“What?” You ask, finally looking over at him as he pulls to a stop at a busy intersection.

The red glow of the traffic light streams in through the car’s windshield despite the heavy tint and washes Soonyoung in a moody glow, only cut by the flashing lights of the LED billboards that are so commonplace in Gangnam.

“It ended,” He says as he turns to you as well, the red light offering him a respite, “Training ended and I got in my car and drove over to that speakeasy. I celebrated my teammate’s birthday, had a bunch of laughs with my friends, and now I’m driving you home.”

“Tomorrow, I’ll go back to training and try again. And if it doesn’t work out, I’ll talk to your dad again and ask for his help. And when that ends, I’ll come home and I’ll probably ask you if you want to go for a walk.”

He ends all of that with a big, bright, beautiful smile that makes your lower lip wobble. Soonyoung is so wonderful and your heart feels so vulnerable. You’re worried that you might end up going off on a litany about how your school girl crush from nearly sixteen years ago had awoken from its dormant slumber on a chilly evening in March, and was wreaking havoc in your heart and brain as it fed on every right and perfect thing Soonyoung had said to you since then.

But you keep it in. 

Instead you let out a shudder of a breath and tell Soonyoung about your day.

“I feel like I’m running out of time,” You start, “Which is stupid because I’m like, twenty eight and probably not dying soon, and I know you probably won’t get it because you’ve had a career since you were like, nineteen, and that’s why I don’t think I wanted to get into it with you but also because I don’t want you to think about how pathetic I am.”

Saying all of that in one breath almost has you panting, but more than anything, it’s that worry you’ve been trying to bury in your chest all these weeks, pretending you were above it all, that’s been weighing you down.

“You know how I’ve been trying to get a new job right?”

He makes a sound of agreement, not wanting to cut you off while you were clearly in the middle of a tirade.

“Well, I feel like I’ve been floundering, you know? I put in all these applications and I do the interviews, and I do great because I know I can turn it on when I have to but it’s just such a fucking drag!” 

You know you’re whining but you’ve already started and everything is coming out like a tidal wave from your mouth.

“I’ve been at this for months and today I got an email that sounds really promising but I still haven’t really gotten hired and I feel like I’m going around in circles with these companies, trying to convince them I’m the shit but it’s not like I really care all that much about them, really.”

“I just don’t want to keep wasting my time doing nothing and being no one.”

Silence. Breathe in, breathe out.

“Then I kind of got into it with my dad this afternoon,” You finally let out, “I was… I was planning to come see you at practice today. And he kind of, I don’t know… He kind of told me I couldn’t be there. That it was private practice today and that none of the girls were going to be there either and that… that maybe I was overstaying my welcome when I had no affiliation with the Diamonds.”

Soonyoung’s gripping the steering wheel firmer, from what you can tell and you want to ease his mind, but your own was aflame with the indignation you had felt that afternoon.

“I thought about skipping on Ahreum’s invite because well, I didn’t know who would be there, but I knew Ahreum and I kind of know Mingyu, and I knew that place was going to be chock full of beautiful, famous, successful people, and I just didn’t know if I could handle that after everything, you know?”

You don’t realize that you’ve made it all the way home throughout your tiny meltdown and Soonyoung has been idling in front of your family’s garden gate for a minute or two.

“Then?” Soonyoung prompts.

“What do you mean?” You’re confused.

“Then what happened?” He clarifies.

“What do you mean ‘then what happened?’ Soonyoung you were there,” You point out with an arched brow. You’re a little peeved.

“Just play along, Peaches. Don’t be a soil sport,” He encourages.

“Fine. Then I got dressed and went straight to Mingyu’s party. I helped set up, and then you guys arrived, and we had dinner and drinks, and talked about movies, and… we got in your car, and we talked, and now you’re dropping me off at home.”

“I think our days turned out pretty okay in the end,” Soonyoung says with a gentle smile.

Oh.

Oh.

soonyoung 🥅 Today 1:47PM

ddalgi misses you ig :/ come back from jeju fasterrrrr

Yes maam! And I'll make sure we win too Don't want to upset Ddalgi with a poor showing

of course he'd be so upset

This weeks feels like its going by sooooo slowly Will you be at the gala?

hate to say it but ya

I'll see you then :)

The gala Soonyoung had mentioned was the Gangnam District Arts Gala. The exclusive gala was to be televised live and the guestlist was filled with brand execs, celebrity performers, and A-List socialites. 

The press release was that they were pledging obscenely large donations to uplift the arts and encourage the young, creative minds of students in schools with underdeveloped arts programs. It was a fairly new development and was something that you felt was just an excuse for rich people to dress up, drink, and bask in each other’s wealth.

Initially the idea of an entire sports team and their managers and staff being a part of such an event was uncommon. You understood if a handful of the first team was present, personalities that were instantly affiliated with big name brands like Mingyu, Minghao, Jeonghan, and even at times, Soonyoung. All the connections with the Diamonds instantly made sense when you found out the brains behind the operation.

The whole thing was planned under the watchful eye of Choi Seoah, Seungcheol’s business-mogul younger sister and Jeonghan’s girlfriend. 

If you paid more attention to local entertainment news you’d be more aware of how Seoah wanted this gala to be a “family affair” and having her childhood team and Gangnam representatives, the Cheongdam Diamonds, to not only attend but also co-host the event was her goal.

You hated it as soon as you heard about it, only to somehow be roped into it last minute.

All of that led to you sitting next to your dad at the dinner table, waiting for the team to arrive from their red carpet appearance. As your dad’s (begrudging) plus one, you were free from being in front of the public eye, with the coaching staff opting to come through a different entrance. But with the first team being the event’s hosts, they were considered one of the highlights of the evening.

There was a commotion as soon as they stepped inside the venue, and rightfully so. You knew these events were always somehow about the fashion, and even you weren’t exempted from the frills and frivolities of looking good for an evening. But nothing could have prepared you for how Soonyoung would be dressed this evening.

If there was ever an expert at having their breath being taken away at the sight of Soonyoung, you would certainly be a credible candidate. Soonyoung was dressed in smart pinstripe pants and a blazer speckled with sparkling gems, but the focal point of his look had been the sheer black tank top he was wearing underneath. You had felt your throat go dry and the hairs on your arms raise when he came through the doors and the team was led to their seats.

You spend much of the night willing Soonyoung to look your way, but with him being the captain of the team meant to be the figureheads of the event, he’s got his hands full speaking to other honored guests and VIPs wanting to get a chance to meet him. 

There’s a pit in your stomach where jealousy collects and starts to overflow everytime a beautiful, statuesque woman comes close to him, whispers in his ear for him to hear her better, and laughs at his jokes. You know they’re funny, and whatever joke it is, you’re sure you’ve heard it before and laughed harder.

The silliness of your mindset looms over your head like an angry cloud and you can’t help as it sours your mood even when Ahreum’s girl group comes on to perform their latest song. When it ends she forgoes sitting back with her group and you catch her slipping away with Mingyu as you had excused yourself to go to the lady’s room.

Your neck feels stiff from having to crane it to get a decent view of Soonyoung’s table the whole night but being outside of the main venue gives you a second to breathe and for you to ease your mind. When you spot a line leading out of the closest bathroom, you decide it and opt to look around the intricately designed foyer. You empty your mind as you run your gloved finger along the edge of a gilded art frame, glistening under the flickering light of a nearby decorative candle.

“I told you I’d find you,” comes a voice from behind you that spooks you so bad, you tip the decoration you were toying with off the edge of the table.

His years of practice honing his reflexes kick in and Soonyoung’s able to catch the frame before it crashes to the ground. He places it back on the table carefully, no one the wiser about its almost demise.

“What did I say about coming up behind me like that, Soonyoung!” You chastise raising a hand to slap him playfully on the chest. You stop short when your eyes catch his outfit once again and how you could see his skin so clearly even through the opaque black fabric.

Soonyoung catches your hand mid air and brings it to his lips, pressing them lightly against the silky fabric of your gloves and looks down at you, “You clean up good, peaches.”

Your skin burns so hot you feel sweat start to dot the back of your neck and you tear your hand away from him. You pretend to be unaffected, giving him a playful roll of your eyes, “You haven’t even seen the half of it yet, Kwon.”

The two of you have found yourselves in a quieter hallway, away from prying eyes and smartphones with a million megapixel cameras. It’s been about a week since you’ve seen each other and the weight of the albeit short time away from each other lifts from your mind.

“Have you been good?”

“Mmhhm,” You hum, “Better now.”

As much as you wish you could whisk him away from the party forever, you know you have to give him back to his teammates. To your surprise, Soonyoung pulls up a chair from a vacant table next to theirs and situates it right next to where he sits down.

You gawk at him for a second, unsure if you could fuck up the seating arrangement at a whim, but before he says anything, a tall elegant woman situates herself on Jeonghan’s lap and drapes a slender arm around his shoulders.

“Seoah, this is Mr. Cho’s daughter,” Jeonghan says and you straighten up with a start, offering your name and hand for his girlfriend to shake.

“Finally, we meet properly!” She says with a tinkling laugh, “Hannie’s told me all about you and Soonie. Come, sit!”

Upon her insistence you situate yourself on the chair Soonyoung had pulled up just as Ahreum and Mingyu arrive at the table, panting, and Ahreum having changed out of her performance costume into a pretty pale pink dress, her hair flowing down her back in pretty waves.

When she notices you seated at the table, she lets go of Mingyu’s hand to run over to you with a hug and a squeal of “Unnie, you’re here!”

Had Seungcheol and Sunhee been in attendance, there’s no doubt they would be seated at this table with the rest of you, and it comes to you belatedly that you were seated at the WAG table. Weeks earlier and you might have been uncomfortable at that fact, displeased with being out of place, but the longer you think about it, the more you wished that it could be the norm for you.

You’d been toying with the idea in your mind for a few days now, that maybe, just maybe, you did want to be a WAG. Maybe what’s been going on between you and Soonyoung wasn’t just a friendship that was long delayed. 

Maybe, just maybe, it was okay to indulge in the prospect of Soonyoung reciprocating your feelings, and that this long standing crush was no longer unreciprocated.

The conversation between you and the rest of the table’s occupants was light and fun and with Seoah calling for more champagne every so often, you felt the tension at your shoulders melt away. Even when your father had dropped by, asking if you’d be riding back home with him, you smiled at him brightly, saying you’d find your own ride back.

You don’t miss the nod and salute Soonyoung gives him from beside you.

When you let out an unintentional yawn, the alcohol making your eyelids droop slightly, Soonyoung pushes back the sleeve of his blazer to check the time.

“We can head out if you want,” He says, “I’m sure Ddlagi’s waiting for us.”

Your heart soars at his words. You nod at him and stand as he holds his hand out to pull you up.

“Alright, that’s a wrap for the two of us,” He says, tugging off his blazer jacket, “I’ll see you guys on Monday. Ahreum, Seoah, lovely as always.”

Alarm bells are ringing and sirens are blaring in your head as Soonyoung’s bare arms come into view and you can see how the muscles of his back and stomach move beneath his skin as he waves and motions for you to follow him.

Soonyoung goes up behind you, steadying you in your heels, and places his blazer over your bare shoulders—the heat from his clothing warming you up in a split second. Ahreum’s giggle from behind you catches your attention and you manage to see her wink from the corner of your eye.

“Bye, everyone!” You greet, “Thanks for letting me crash your table.”

“Any time, lovely!” Seoah says with a flippant wave of her hand, “I’ll try to make it to lunch with you girls next time, please be there!”

“Have fun, unnie!” Ahreum calls out and you don’t know whether to smile or curse her as you and Soonyoung walk away.

“I like sitting with the WAGs,” You say kind of mindlessly as you stare out of the window, watching as Gangnam passes you and Soonyoung by.

“Yeah?” He says, encouraging you to go on.

“Yup,” You say with a pop, “It feels like I’m part of a sisterhood or something when I’m with them.”

“Yeah, they all got really close in no time, especially when Tiny came into the picture,” Soonyoung recalls, “Seoah and Sunhee are pretty much sisters now, so it was exciting for them to have someone new join in.”

“I hope they’ll welcome me as warmly,” You blurt out.

Fuck. Idiot.

There’s a beat of silence and you feel yourself floundering as if you were underwater. 

“What do you mean?” Soonyoung asks, cutting into the silence.

You keep your eyes trained out of the window, willing him to let it the fuck go, but you know he won’t.

He’s about to turn to your street and you consider for a split second if it’d be feasible for you to jump out of his Maserati right this very second and hide under your sheets. Soonyoung does you a kindness by not saying anything until he pulls up in front of your house, saving you the awkwardness of having to walk home with him from his house like you usually do.

You try to quickly unbuckle your seatbelt but the second you turn your head to look for the button to press, Soonyoung gently takes your chin in between his fingers and brings your face closer to his.

In this position there’s no way for you to escape his gaze and under it you feel like you’re on fire.

“I’ll ask again,” Soonyoung starts in a whisper, as if he spoke any louder that bubble that surrounded you would pop and shatter this very moment, “What did you mean?”

This close and you can take him in, really look at him, smell him, breathe him.

“I mean,” you say slowly, gathering all the nerves you can muster, “That I want to sit on the WAG bench and cheer your name during games. I want to wear your jersey and have you dedicate saves for me.”

You gulp as you feel yourself grow in conviction, “I want to hold your trophies with you at the end of the season and bad mouth refs who give out shitty calls when you have to deal with a penalty. I want it all, Soonyoung. I want it with you.”

There it was, laid out in front of him, plain as day and no way to misinterpret. Your silly teenage fantasies had followed you into adulthood and had grown into real life yearning, hoping that the boy you had watched grow up into the most wonderful man would just take you out of your misery and say yes, that he too had felt the same tugging at his heart when he was around you. 

Soonyoung’s silence was killing you as the seconds felt like hours but when his fingers twitched beneath your chin, your heart gave off a thunderous thump, and he pulled you in closer, and your eyes slipped shut.

You let out a breath through parted lips and you feel the warmth of Soonyoung’s own shaky exhale on your lower lip. Just as you feel his lip press against your own–

“I’m sorry, I can’t.”

In a flash your eyes fly open and you pull yourself away from him. Soonyoung is shellshocked at the speed at which you put distance between the two of you and how you scramble to successfully free yourself from his presence.

“Wait–wait a second, listen to me!” He tries to say, but everything sounds like a garbled mess to you.

You feel like you’re underwater again, your nose flaring as you try to get as much air into your lungs. You can feel your lips turning downwards and the telltale wobble of your lower lip. The heat and sting from behind your eyes tell you that you’re seconds away from falling apart.

How stupid. How stupid to think that after all this time he would see you as anything other than his coach’s daughter. His coach’s stupid, pathetic daughter who couldn’t do anything right, couldn’t achieve anything even after all this time.

When you free yourself from the mess of the seatbelts and you’re able to wrangle the door of his car open, you stomp out, nearly tripping over yourself in your stupid heels. Soonyoung gets out as well and tries to call out to you without causing a scene.

You’re about to open the gate to your house when you realize you’re still wearing his blazer. You’ve grown comfortable in it and the warmth of him, and it's agony as you rip it off, turn around and throw it in his face.

“Go fuck yourself, Soonyoung.”

You expect your anger and grief to fuel a tirade but you find yourself moving so slowly and so cautiously around your own home. You had guided the front door shut so that only the clicking of the locks and the springs in the knob disturbed the silence. You pressed your back against the door and held your breath as you watched the shadows move on the walls as Soonyoung pulled out of your family’s driveway. 

Only when you were doused in darkness could you slowly exhale.

You feel so much smaller than you are as you tiptoe up the stairs, clutching your heels to your chest, and lifting the skirt of your dress. You had felt so beautiful tonight, only to come home feeling more rotten and ugly than you ever have in your life.

When you close your bedroom door behind you, you turn to the Golden Retriever curled up by your pillows and you sniffle. Then the first tear drops when you think of how you’re supposed to let Ddlagi know that Soonyoung won’t be coming over anymore. You bury your face into Ddalgi’s coat and allow the sobs to wrack your body.

You had always thought it would be beneath you to cry over a boy. 

Feeling disappointment, anger, or sadness you would understand, it would only be normal to do so. But you felt like your body was caving in on you, the embarrassment of his rejection, the idea that you had misread all the queues, that you were deluded this whole time, thinking that maybe after all these, you would finally be worth a second thought to Soonyoung.

While the thought of losing him as a lover hurt you, the idea that you may lose him as a friend forever after what you had done has you shedding more tears. You took bits and pieces of every walk you’d been on, every movie you watched, the dinners you ate, and hid them away in your heart because you had longed for Soonyoung for so long, that all these moments were truly treasured.

But you’re also angry.

You’re angry because you know there must have been something. Sunhee had seen it that day when you came to practice, Ahreum had thought you were a couple just from photos, and Wonwoo, Wonwoo had reassured you that with Soonyoung you hadn’t a thing to worry about.

Have you all misunderstood? It couldn’t have all been in your head. Some part of it must have been true, and maybe still is. 

Your anger sets you into motion. Despite having been the one to walk away in anger, you feel like maybe you were entitled to an explanation. If you were going to cut Soonyoung off from your life from here on out, you wanted to do it on your own terms.

In the shower, you worry that you were speedrunning through the stages of grief. From how immensely you felt for Soonyoung and for just how long you’ve been carrying a torch for him. For the chance that he’d look your way and think of you as someone more than just your father’s daughter who had watched him from where she sat doing her homework.

You want to yell at him. You want to curse him and shove him and tell him how much you felt for him. Maybe that way he would understand how much he hurt you.

You dress quickly and haphazardly, not caring how you look, because you’ve let him see you look worse in the past weeks, grown so comfortable in his presence to truly be yourself around him. All your past actions feel like double edged swords. On one hand you were elated, so taken with how things had panned out before this evening and on the other, you felt the dread of regret, of sharing so much of yourself, and so willingly, to someone who could walk away without a second thought.

As you rush down the stairs you childishly you wonder if your father could kick him off the team for breaking your heart.

You make a conscious effort to close up after yourself quietly, guiding the door shut gently, just as you had earlier that evening. When you turn around, your heart falls to your stomach at the sight before you.

Soonyoung stands in front of your gate looking just as he did that first night he walked with you and Ddalgi. Soft, barefaced, and dressed in a ratty hoodie and sweats, you find your false bravado whittling away in his presence. His ability to render you speechless felt so unfair but you can’t help but acquiesce to it as you always do.

You loved him like this, just him, the him you had grown so used to and so comfortable around, and so in love with.

You love him, you love him, you love him.

And that’s why you don’t stop him when he unlatches the gate and walks up towards you. You don’t stop him when he goes to stand right in front of you, towering over you and bowing his head to be closer to you. You don’t stop him when he takes your face into his hands, tilting it ever so slightly so your eyes are locked. You don’t stop him when he uses his thumb to wipe away at a stray tear that betrays the strong front you wanted to put on.

You don’t stop him when he says, “I’m sorry for what I did. And I’m sorry if this is selfish, but I’ll never forgive myself if you think I don’t want you, that you don’t fill my every fucking waking moment, that I could let you walk away like you did.”

Your chin is trembling with the effort of keeping yourself together but a ragged sob escapes your mouth as you try to make sense of what Soonyoung’s saying.

Your chin is trembling with the effort of keeping yourself together but a ragged sob escapes your mouth as you try to make sense of what Soonyoung’s saying.

The hard look of determination on his face softens at your reaction and he shushes you, tries to ease your thundering heart but how can you when he says, “I have wanted you for so long. How could you not have known?” and finally presses his lips to yours.

Soonyoung was fifteen when he got the shock of his life

He was in the middle of a scrimmage game against the other members of his squad when he caught Coach Cho Woonjae coming down from the second pitch. His hands were already sweating in his gloves but he felt flames lick at his feet, willing himself to move quicker, react faster, anything to catch the attention of the living legend that was walking his way.

They wrapped up the game with his team managing a 1-0 win, extending his scrimmage clean sheet record. He made a show of cheering his team on, clapping them on the back and showering them in praises.

Wonwoo had raised a skeptical brow at him, clearly having noticed his odd behavior.

“You’re scaring me,” Wonwoo commented as he rubbed the sweat from his eyes.

“Fuck off,” Soonyoung laughed, “Coach Cho is watching.”

Soonyoung was eager for their coach to wrap up their training, he had wanted to go up to his idol so badly, to ask him if he saw how he played, if he had improved in any way, or if he had any wisdom to impart from one goalkeeper to another.

It turned out that Soonyoung didn’t have to do anything at all. Once the final team huddle had dispersed, Coach Cho had come over to Soonyoung himself, clapping him on the back and greeting him with a “Good job today, Kwon.”

Soonyoung tried his best not to sputter, gave him a curt bow of his head and said, “Thank you so much, Coach. I learned from the best. I meant from you! Because, you know, you’re the best.”

I’m a fucking idiot, Soonyoung thought to himself.

Coach Cho could only laugh at his blunder and offered him a thanks, son, so at the very least Soonyoung could take pride in having been funny. But when his laughter died down, he had affixed Soonyoung with a look that had been, at that time, unreadable.

Then, with no preamble, Coach Cho asked him if he could take his daughter to a school dance.

When he stumbled into the locker room, the rest of his teammates were already undressing, pulling out toiletries from their lockers and a fresh change of clothes. Soonyoung was still shell shocked when he sat down next to Wonwoo, body moving on autopilot as he dodged gangly elbows and stray towels being tossed around.

“What’d Coach Cho say to you?” Wonwoo asked in a hushed voice.

“He asked me if I could take Jiae to a dance. I-if I could be her date.”

Wonwoo’s jaw had dropped comically, not having expected that.

“Well?” He had urged.

Soonyoung’s eyebrows furrow, “What do you mean well?”

“Well what did you say, dumbass?” He asked with a flick to Soonyoung’s to ear.

“I–” Soonyoung had trouble voicing it out, because now that he was repeating it, it sounded even more stupid than when he had blurted it out to Coach Cho, “I said I couldn’t.”

“What?!” Wonwoo had yelled, pulling the attention of some of the players sitting by them.

“I can’t go that day,” Soonyoung had tried to reason out, but the more he thought about it, the more he regretted saying no so quickly. 

“What could you possibly be doing that is somehow more important than taking Coach Cho’s daughter to a dance?”

Soonyoung drops his head into his hands, groaning out an answer.

“What was that?” Wonwoo taunted.

“I said, I’m getting my braces out.”

Word of Coach Cho’s request had spread amongst the Under-18 and Under-15 team like wildfire and Soonyoung had never felt so embarrassed in his life. Not because it was embarrassing to have been asked, but because he had said no. 

But for many of those he had called teammates, it had become a running joke that maybe they too would be tapped to take you to this school dance, and it made Soonyoung’s blood boil at how crass the thoughts of some of his teammates were.

“I still can’t believe you said no,” Youngho had said to Soonyoung when he had dropped his backpack onto the bench in front of his locker. 

Soonyoung’s shoulders were heavy with the fatigue from his commute from school and this was the last thing he wanted to deal with. He wanted to run a few laps, do a few drills, then pummel whoever his team was playing against during the scrimmage to the ground.

His teammate’s thoughts and comments were far from what he wanted to deal with that day.

Wonwoo had given him a warning look, to just ignore it and move on, and against his usual instinct, Soonyoung followed his best friend’s advice.

“Dude, imagine if you had said yes and like, impressed her or whatever.” Youngho had started up again, “You’d probably make it all the way to the first team on Cho’s good graces alone.”

But there was only so much that Soonyoung could stomach.

“Anyway, I’m sure Cho’ll ask someone else after practice tonight,” Youngho continued, “She must really want to fuck a footballer or something.”

He doesn’t think he’d ever moved so fast in his life, but within seconds Soonyoung had Youngho up against a locker, his body hit the metal and alerted everyone in the room that a fight was about to break out. 

Soonyoung had no intention of actually hurting anyone, it wasn’t in his nature, but his blood had boiled at how something so innocent as an invite to a dance was suddenly being used to dirty your name without you even knowing.

“You’re disgusting,” Soonyoung had said through gritted teeth, “Even if that was the case, I’m sure she wouldn’t stoop as low as you.”

Even as one of the tallest players on the team, that day Youngho looked small under the fire of Soonyoung’s rage.

Shortly after the confrontation in the lockers and both Soonyoung and Youngho’s one week suspension from training, any talk of dances and daughters had died down just as all topics of locker room discussion did. 

But it lived in Soonyoung’s brain incessantly.

From the moment Coach Cho had asked him, he had rewinded back to every single memory of you he could recall. Soonyoung had considered you a permanent fixture at the HYBE training center. He could recall that very first time he came into Coach Cho’s office after training, and you were seated by the coffee table with your nose in something or another. 

Back then you had been so intimidating and snooty that he never dared to talk to you even as he waited for his turn to talk to your dad.

As he grew more comfortable in his place at the training center, no longer gobsmacked at every shiny trophy or starstruck at every first team player that passed him in the hallways, you had started to look more warm towards him too. He was proud to have gotten a smile at the very least, when he would wave to you goodbye.

The years that followed were spent relentlessly chasing his dream, spending every minute that he could to prove his mettle at his sport, and that left him with very little time for anything else.

It wasn’t that Soonyoung never had anyone catch his eye, he just never really did anything about it. Well, that and no one had ever expressed any interest in him. He tries not to focus on that, despite how he enjoys the spoils of the wars waged between the girls vying for Wonwoo’s affections. He never longed for that kind of attention.

But when he received it from you, despite how it was through that awkward conversation of an invite from your father, he considered it, even if it was just for a smidge of a second.

The smidge of a second grew into minutes, then hours, then days. When Soonyoung found himself wondering why you hadn’t visited the training center in weeks, he started to worry.

“What if she thinks I don’t like her?” Soonyoung said to Wonwoo.

“What are you talking about?” Wonwoo asked as he strapped his shin guards on.

“Jiae,” Soonyoung whispered, “What if she thinks I don’t like her.”

Wonwoo could only snort, “You bet she thinks you don’t like her, you said no to her dad.”

Soonyoung groaned as he hit himself in the face with his gloves.

“Why does it matter,” Wonwoo pushed, “You like her?”

Soonyoung could only blush.

“Soonyoung, please don’t tell me you have a crush on your idol’s daughter?” 

The silence was deafening.

Soonyoung keeps his crush on you like a dirty secret.

It was probably the world’s worst kept dirty secret, but nevertheless, Soonyoung persisted. 

After having blown the chance to take you to a school dance with the blessing of your father, he had been hoping to get the chance to make it up to you. He just wanted to know, did you like him like that? Why hadn’t anyone else on the squad gotten asked to take you to the dance but him? Why him?

Your presence at the training center had gone from few and far in between to once in a blue moon. And as much as Soonyoung hated to say it, it made him sad. He doesn’t want to assume that it was because of him, but just not being able to see you at all for weeks and eventually months at a time was a departure from what he was so used to.

Sometimes he went into Coach Cho’s office just in the hopes that he'd see you seated by the coffee table, reading a book, and he could just wave hi.

After about a year of your scarce training visits, Soonyoung realizes he may have underestimated his crush on you. While there was little he could actually do in between school, training, and hagwon, that didn’t stop him from silly little daydreams and fantasies of seeing you in the stands at one of their official league matches.

That year Soonyoung and Wonwoo had officially joined the U-18 team that Coach Cho personally handled and it was the start of the most grueling period of football growth of Soonyoung’s life. With a defensive expert leading the team, there were suddenly more eyes on him, greater expectations, and the added pressure of playing in front of his hero almost every single day.

There were many nights that Soonyoung thought training would end on a much lighter note if you were watching.

The first time Soonyoung saw you in months was on a random Wednesday evening when he was on clean up duty. He was trailing behind the rest of the guys, wheeling the cart of training balls to the correct storage rooms when he saw you leaning against the wall by your father’s office.

He doesn’t know if you had seen him, but he ducked into the storage room regardless, self conscious of how he looked post-training with grass stains on his white kit and his hair stuck haphazardly to his face.

From where he was hiding he simply appreciated seeing you in the flesh again after so long. He tried to make a mental tally of things that may have changed since he last saw you, maybe your hair was a little longer, or your lips were colored a different shade by a new lip gloss. Soonyong didn’t know, he was always bad at those things, all he knew at that time was that you were the prettiest girl he’d ever seen and that he had missed you.

Wonwoo thought it was a horrible idea. And in hindsight, he was right—but hindsight was always 20/20 and Soonyoung believed back then that Wonwoo was almost laughably blind. So, being Soonyoung, he had ignored his best friend’s wise words and jumped head straight into his plan.

The plan being to surprise you and woo you at your school dance. Soonyoung had thanked his lucky stars when his cousin had mentioned it off hand that she was going to dress shopping for a school event that was coming up. Soonyoung usually tuned this kind of talk out when he spent weekends with his extended family, but the mention of a school dance had perked up his ears and suddenly he was begging on his hands and knees for his cousin to take him as her designated plus one.

Very rarely did Soonyoung use his placement in the Cheongdam Diamonds’ U-18 team as leverage, but even his cousin couldn’t deny how impressive it would look to take him to the dance.

What he didn’t expect was having to fend off everyone that assumed he was dating his snooty older cousin.

He didn’t expect coming face to face with you before he was ready to sweep you off of your feet.

He didn’t expect that you’d turn your back at him instantly, and take another boy’s hand in your own.

He didn’t expect how badly it would hurt to have been rejected without even getting to say a word.

He tried. He tried to keep away, to be satisfied having that brief teenage crush on you. He had fallen into bed with the most beautiful models and some of the most promising rising actresses, but found himself going home thinking about that seventeen year old girl who had turned away from him and danced with another boy.

Soonyoung supposes, after a while, that maybe he doesn’t deserve you. He was a far cry from what your father was at his age and having been raised in the game, the lifestyle that he now had, it was possible that you would be far from impressed. 

On particularly bad nights, Soonyoung thinks of the worst: that maybe you despised him and what he stood for as a professional athlete. Maybe you had sworn to absolutely never be with an athlete, that they were all good for nothing playboys and tricksters. On those nights Soonyoung tried to think of the positive: You’d probably never date any of his teammates.

The spark that set off a wildfire in his heart that night he came across you and Ddalgi had been warming his body for weeks. He’s never felt as weightless in his life as when he had managed to place himself in your life after so many years. He tried to stay satisfied, happy to be your friend and to stay by your side in any way, shape, or form you preferred.

But it was so difficult.

Every time he got close to you, he could feel the way his heart thumped louder, faster, telling him that you were here, just out of reach, but if he just put out his hand and took your own, then maybe you could calm it, satisfy it.

But Soonyoung’s made nearly a million and one mistakes when it came to you. And this evening was the worst. Despite his best efforts, he almost always seemed to fuck it up with you, and he couldn’t believe he had managed to hurt you to the point of tears.

He’d spend every second, minute, hour of every day making it up to you if he could, to lavish you in words that would put your mind at ease, make your heart race, and set your skin aflame.

Soonyoung’s made nearly a million and one mistakes when it came to you, but pressing his lips to your throat, and holding you down onto his bed to hear you sigh out his name, would not be one of them.

This evening felt like a dream, Soonyoung thought. In his rational mind there was no way any of it could have happened outside of his imagination. From the second he had pressed his lips to yours, he thought that he was on borrowed time, that just as easily as he had gotten you, you could slip away, change your mind, turn him away.

But when you had pulled away from him and your eyes had met for the first time since the revelation that there were so many years of yearning between you both, your gaze had set his blood aflame.

There was no other way about it. He had to have you.

It was a bold move to take your hand, something he had been longing to do for ages, and tug you towards the direction of his own house. It seemed awfully presumptuous but the way you gripped onto his arm, wrapping your fingers around his bicep and nodded in agreement was all the confirmation he needed.

While your first kiss was wistful, misty, and so long delayed, Soonyoung had made sure that the following kiss was the exact opposite. The second he had closed the door behind the two of you, he had pressed you against it, held the back of your head, tilted it backward just slightly and kissed you breathless. When you had groaned into the kiss, Soonyoung had taken the opportunity to lick into your mouth, his tongue a welcome intrusion in your own. Soonyoung’s head was spinning as he let out a breathy moan of his own.

You tasted of toothpaste and smelled of coconut conditioner, your hair still slightly damp and cold from your recent shower and Soonyoung wanted to be wrapped in it, in all of you.

At the very back of Soonyoung’s brain he wondered if he was being too eager, if it was so fucking uncool for him to want you so badly. But this evening was no longer about rationality. It was about finally giving in, it was finally time for you to both let out the breaths you’d been holding in for far too long.

Soonyoung wanted you to know that he was here and he would be here for as long as you wanted him. If that meant until next week, two years from now, forever, or even if just for tonight, he would gladly accept it.

“More, Soonyoung,” You had whispered in between small, softer kisses, and stuck out your lower lip in a pout. He couldn’t resist you.

He had playfully bit on the fullness of your lip, licked at it with his tongue, then brought it into his mouth to suck. He watched as your eyelids fluttered shut and you wrapped your arms around his head, elbows hooked over his shoulders. It was easy work for him to lift you up by your thighs and carry you up the stairs.

You asked for more so more you would get. Every kiss that followed felt bruising, when Soonyoung felt that you were short of breath, he’d pull away just to press his lips to your pulse instead, and when that wasn’t enough, he licked a hot strip onto your pulse and pressed the softest of bites, eliciting a broken moan from your lips.

He wanted to be everywhere, touch everything, hear every desperate gasp, swallow every hungry groan.

Hungry. That’s what you were.

And that’s what he’s always been.

The heat coursing through his body is almost too much for him to take, so Soonyoung quickly pulls away from you with a displeased sigh. He grabs at the bottom of his hoodie to pull it up and over his head before diving back in to press his lips to yours. He refuses to have his mouth parted from yours for too long now that he finally knows what you taste like. 

His fingers itch to feel your skin and while your thighs had been soft, smooth, and pliant in his hands when he carried you up to his room, he needed more. He needed to know how your skin would feel pressed against his own, how your thighs would feel wrapped around his waist.

You must want the same thing because you follow his lead and pull your own hoodie up and off.

In the locker rooms, there are plenty of mindless and stupid questions thrown about. It wasn’t too long ago that the conversation of “ass or tits” was brought up. It was met with loud jeering and playfully scandalized hooting.

Soonyoung had very cheekily said, “Her heart” and was met with boos and fuck yous from his teammates. If you asked him again today, he’d finally have a proper answer.

“You’re not in a bra,” Soonyoung says in a whisper, eyes zoning onto your chest.

“I’m undressing for you, Soonyoung. That’s kind of the point.”

“I-i-yeah, I get that but. That whole time? You weren’t in a bra?”

“Well, yeah,” you start leaning back on your elbows, “I was planning on going to bed straight after yelling at you, but… well, here we are.”

His mind goes back to all those weeks prior to tonight when he had greeted you at your front gate and you were wearing this exact same outfit.

When his eyes meet yours it seems you’ve come to the same realization as him.

“Do you like them, Soonyoung?” You ask, one hand coming to grasp at the fullness of your left breast and barely fitting in your palm, and the other hand traces your right nipple with a finger slowly; teasing.

“Fuck yes,” He says, unable to hold it in, “Were you walking around me these last few weeks without a bra on? Tits just out of my reach?”

The fake coy look on your face makes him so painfully hard but he tries to play it cool, “Yes, captain. Won’t you like to give them a touch?”

He shakes his head no, and you’re almost confused until he says, “Let me have a taste of you, baby.”

Baby.

Soonyoung’s pulling all these moves he’s been too terrified to try, despite all the times he’s been openly flirtatious and he’s tried to push the boundaries between friendship and that something more.

But he’s always wanted to try and call you baby.

He doesn’t see what your reaction is like because just as he says it, he leans down to lick a broad stripe onto your breast and captures your right nipple between his teeth, the tip of his tongue playing with the stiffening bud.

The sigh you let out fills his head and it’s then that Soonyoung decides that he wants to draw every possible sound of pleasure he can from your mouth. Soonyoung knows he’s loud, mouthy, and just short of talkative in bed, but he wants to know how loud you can get, if he can have you screaming his name too.

He’s determined to make every second from here on out as pleasurable as he can but he’s been painfully hard since he had you pressed up against his front door. In an attempt to get you as riled up as he can, he switches his hand and mouth, making sure to lavish both of your breasts in licks and kisses, litter them with small nips and love bites, fit them in his hands almost painfully, so the memory of his hands on you sticks. 

Soonyoung could spend hours praising your chest, but your litany of his name, growing breathless by the second, and the way you’re undulating your hips, trying your best to get some kind of relief finally pulls him away from where he’s be stuck in his own heady cloud of lust.

“Soonyoung, I want to make you feel good,” is what you say when he pulls away from your chest with an obscene pop, moving to press kisses on the valley between your breasts.

You almost make his brain go offline when you grab him by the long, scruffy locks of hair by his nape to lock eyes with him.

You are a vision.

The heady look in your eyes and the way you bite on your plush lower lip is just so much to Soonyoung. Its enough of a distraction that he lets you maneuver him any which way you want and he settles comfortably on his back and against the plush pillows at the head of his bed.

You stand on your knees between his legs and make quick work of untying the drawstrings of his sweats and his hands instantly fly down to yours to help you pull them off along with his underwear. He kicks them to the floor unceremoniously and you push his shoulder back lightly to have him fall back to his pillows. 

“Oh fuck!” is all he can comprehend to say when you drag your tongue from his balls to the tip of his cock, swiping at the precum that’s started to leak from his slit. Without giving him a second to recover from your initial onslaught, you sink your mouth onto his cock, holding his hip down with a firm hand to support yourself as you give way in your throat for him to slip all the way in.

Soonyoung tries to keep himself from slipping into his baser instincts, to cant his hips upward and have your nose press against his abdomen, fucking himself into your mouth. He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding through his nose just as you groan around him, eyes slipping shut, and your throat clenching around the head of his cock.

Your mouth was so fucking warm and wet and your throat so tight he wonders if he’ll make it out alive from this blowjob to fuck your pussy.

You pull off him with a slight gag and a cough, but you deal with it like champ and slip your mouth over him again, this time your mouth in a perfect ‘O’ to suck on him quickly, your head bobbing and your spit spilling onto the sides of your lips and down the length of him.

The sounds are filthy and the gasp that you let out when you pull off of him to sit up slightly straighter could make a lesser man cum untouched.

Your fingers are wrapped around him by his base, staving off his impending orgasm, when you decide to blow Soonyoung’s mind again. You press your puckered lips against the side of his cock, dragging them from top to bottom repeatedly. 

When you’ve gotten him sufficiently wet with your spit, you suck on the tip of him again, collecting his precum only to pull off slightly. You lock eyes with him, part your lips, and let your tongue loll out to let a filthy mix of his precum and your spit dribble out of your mouth and onto his cock.

“You’re fucking insane,” Soonyoung breathes out with an upturned mouth.

You pump his cock once, twice, before saying, “We’re just getting started, Captain.”

He can only groan happily and let his head fall to his pillows. He’s going to have to unpack how that title coming from your mouth has him close to orgasming.

Soonyoung keeps getting surprised by the little tricks you’re pulling from thin air, but this definitely takes the top spot.

Once you’ve deemed him sufficiently wet, lubricated by your spit and his precum, you start to crawl back up his body while pressing kisses onto the prominent veins on his lower stomach. In no time he can feel himself pressing against your chest, and it becomes clear what you’re about to do.

“You’re going to let me fuck your tits?”

The smirk that spreads across your lips has him shaking his head in amusement, “You seemed to be quite taken by them.”

You were a fucking dream come true.

If Soonyoung is only ever going to have you tonight, he needs to make the most out of it. He takes the reins and switches your positions smoothly so you’re on your back in the middle of his humongous bed. He cages your body between his legs and lets his cock settle between your breasts.

You move your hands down to grasp at the sides of each breast when Soonyoung swats one away and takes another into his, pressing your fingers to his lips for a quick kiss then says, “Hands off, baby.”

He grasps a breast in each hand and squeezes, plays with each nipple with his thumbs before pressing them together to create a tight, wet heat to fuck into. Your skin is so soft and pliant as he continues to push his cock between your tits that it's starting to mess with his head.

As much as people want to put him onto a pedestal for his footballing accolades and successes, at the end of the day he’s just a guy who’s finally in bed with the girl he’s had a crush on for ages. The fucked out look on your face just from pleasuring him with your mouth and tits has him biting his tongue to keep from cumming.

Each thrust of his hips has Soonyoung closer and closer to the edge. He wants to make this last as long as he can but it never crossed his mind how you’d be able to play him like an instrument, know which strings to pluck, chords to play, to pull the most pleasure from him.

“Fuck, I want to cum on your tits,” He breathes out with a laugh. He’s done a lot of growing up, but Soonyoung feels like a teenager as he confesses this to you, “You’ll let me cum on your tits right, baby?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out with a dumb nod of your head, “Cum on my tits, Soonyoung. Make them yours, yeah?”

Soonyoung’s always liked to fuck messy. Plenty sweat, spit, squirt, and cum is par the course when he fucked, but that was mostly for his enjoyment. When you agree to let him spill over you, to cast the assumption of ownership of your body, Soonyoung thinks you’re made for him.

After one, two, three thrusts between your breasts, Soonyoung pulls back, and grasps his cock to jerk himself off to completion, hot spurts of his sticky white cum falling onto your breasts.

You must truly be made for him because as he tries to catch his breath, kneeling over you still and pumping his cock to get hard again, you trace your fingers over your chest to collect his cum. You catch his eye as you bring your sticky fingers to your mouth and suck them clean.

You groan around two fingers and Soonyoung lets out a dark chuckle as you stick out your tongue to show him how you’ve swallowed his spend. He does the same, swiping his fingers through the mess on your tits and shoving three fingers into your awaiting mouth. Your tongue presses against them and you go to suck each one, your tongue dancing between them, not letting a single drop of him go to waste.

He can’t help it, he has to kiss you.

And Soonyoung is a master kisser.

Each time he pressed his mouth to yours, you felt your head go blurry around the edges and every thought that isn’t him simply fades away. The taste of him was addicting and the slip of his tongue against yours had you gushing despite his hands holding you by the back of the head innocently. But you didn’t want innocent, you wanted desperate, you wanted depraved, you wanted disgusting, if he would give it to you.

It doesn’t take long for him to move down your body, paying copious amounts of attention to your sensitive nipples and marked up tits, and eventually pulling down your sleep shorts.

If it was anyone else, it would be embarrassing how wet you’d gotten, but this is Soonyoung. This is Soonyoung who you’d wanted for so long, Soonyoung who had felt the same and just as strongly, Soonyoung whose touch could set you ablaze and whose one word could give you release.

You want him to know. You want him to see and taste just how riled up he’s gotten you, that maybe from this day forward, only he could press his mouth between your thighs, only his tongue could press into your hole, only his lips could wrap around your clit to make you cry out for God.

“Fuck, you taste so good,” He breathed, pressing kisses to the mound of your pubic bone, “I knew you’d taste so good.”

Just his praise has you keening, eyes slipping shut as you feel him spread your legs. He uses his fingers to part your folds and that action is enough to have you clenching around nothing, wanting so badly to be filled, with his tongue, fingers, cock, anything just as long as he could grant you some relief.

“Soonyoung, please,” You manage to whisper.

“Please what?” comes his voice, it’s almost playful, and maybe you want to kick him, but it’s so fucking hot you can feel how badly it gets to you, a sudden wave of arousal making itself known as it starts to trickle out of you.

You let out a frustrated groan, canting your hips upward uselessly as Soonyoung uses his strength to keep you in position. He moves to spread you even further with one leg hoisted over his shoulder and the other pressed flat against the bed. There was no hiding in this position, you were displayed for him, ready and open for whatever it was he wanted to do to you.

“Here’s what I’ll do,” He says, placing kisses onto your knee, moving down to your thigh slowly, “I want to taste this delicious pussy some more, get you all nice and wet, hmm? Then I want to fuck you open with my fingers.”

You nod stupidly as he speaks and you think that you may just agree to anything he says, happy to take anything he wants to give you.

“Will one be enough?” He teases, running one finger along one of your lower lips.

You open your eyes to communicate what your mouth can’t, rendered speechless by his tone of voice alone.

“No? How about two then?” Another finger joins the onslaught in framing your hole but his touch is feather-light and offers no relief whatsoever.

“Soonyoung,” is the only thing you can get out and it comes out as more of a whine. 

“Fine, seems like my girl can take three then? How greedy.”

You bite your lip and nod before saying, “I can take four, Soonyoung. You’ll give me four, right?”

There’s a mean glint in his eye as he says, “You’re perfect.”

Soonyoung eats pussy like he kisses. It’s messy and it’s deep and you’ve never had it this good. He fucks his tongue into your hole with no hesitation, licking deep and lapping at your folds like you’re the best damn thing he’s ever tasted. When he pulls away it’s only so he can move to sucking on your clit. After having teased you with his fingers earlier, it’s like he’s decided fuck that and just thought to ruin you with as much pleasure as he could pull from your body.

Moans and whimpers pour out of your mouth freely. The knowledge that there are no nosey neighbors to disturb means you can be as loud as you want. You want Soonyoung to know how well he’s pleasuring you, that he can pull these ragged breaths and pleasured sighs from you so easily just because it’s him.

When you feel the prod of two fingers at your entrance you bite your lip but a scream breaks through when you feel a third finger push into you as well. Soonyoung had gotten you so wet and prepared for him with his mouth and his tongue that you welcomed the stretch. It was incredible how each of his touches could make you feel this good.

With his fingers inside of you pumping steadily, he peppered your thighs with kisses, moving upwards towards your clit. He flattens his tongue against it and shakes his head to heighten the sensation. On instinct you want to shut your legs closed but he still has you spread open for him and the position has you twitching as you feel yourself about to cum.

“You’ll give me everything, won’t you?” He says, finally pulling away from your clit, “I want to see how hard you can cum.”

Soonyoung sits back onto his knees so he can watch when he pushes four of his fingers into you. Four fingers is a tight fit but you take it like a champ, enjoying how he stretches you open. You watch him watching you and the look of determination and the way his chest heaves has you impossibly turned on. You never thought you’d be in this position, but he is every lonely night fantasy come to life and more.

He is everything.

You enjoy how his arms look, one wrapped around your thigh to hold you open and the other flexing as he pushes his fingers into you repeatedly, gaining speed as the seconds pass. You clench around his fingers as the heat envelopes you and you feel the pressure slowly take over.

“Soonyoung,” You start as a warning, “Soonyoung, I’m gonna–I’m gonna cum!”

He says nothing but instead hastens his actions, plunging his fingers even deeper, hooking his fingers just right to press into that spot inside you that’ll have you exploding in no time.

Your own fingers scramble on his bedsheets, looking for something to keep you anchored as your hips start to buck and you can feel yourself dripping around his fingers inside you.

“Soonyoung, please please, I’m serious. I can’t hold it in,” You cry out.

“I know baby,” He says with a smirk, “Give it to me. I want it.”

It’s like he flipped a switch inside of you and in the same moment he demands you to come, that thread in your stomach snaps and you gush all over his hand and forearm. Tears slip from your eyes in relief but also shame at the mess you made of yourself, his arm, and the bed.

He pulls his fingers out of you gently and you jerk in his hold, the sensitivity starting from your cunt and spreading to your arms and legs. You let Soonyoung rearrange you on his bed but the heat simmering beneath your skin continues to fuel your lust-addled brain. 

“God, you’re fucking perfect,” Soonyoung says, pressing kisses onto your stomach, onto your left breast, then the right, and taking your nipple between his teeth with a gentle tug, “I’ve never had anyone cum as beautiful as you.”

You hate the idea of Soonyoung being with someone that isn’t you. It’s stupid and immature but his confession earlier sets you at ease. Just as you had been with others with the assumption that being with Soonyoung was a far and unreachable dream, he too might feel the same pang of jealousy.

That jealousy rears its ugly head even now. But this time you can do something about it.

You confirm your suspicions about how much he enjoys when you thread your fingers into his hair, so you tug at his locks to bring his mouth to yours. When he licks into your mouth you think that you can taste yourself on his lips and you can’t help but press your lips to his even more.

“That was so fucking embarrassing, Soonyoung,” You sigh out when you manage to get your breathing somewhat back to normal.

Soonyoung refuses to part from you, lips sucking a bruise high on your neck, a love bite that you know will be hard to hide.

“Don’t fucking say that again,” He says between licks, sucks, and kisses, “I want to make all your orgasms that insane. Hottest woman I’ve ever been with, I’ll ever be with.”

You want to roll your eyes at him. It’s an exaggeration if not an outright bold faced lie. But you can’t help but think about it as well. You doubt anyone will ever come close to how Soonyoung has made you feel in the last few hours. The rage, the sadness, the confusion, the joy, the elation, and the euphoria–all of that had stemmed from how much you’ve longed and loved him. You fear you will never feel as strongly for anyone ever again.

You want him so much.

You want him so much that despite how sensitive you still feel, you had to have more of him.

So you push him onto his back and straddle his hips. Your center is still wet, stretched out so nicely by his fingers, and when you lower yourself to glide over his cock, you can feel how he’s recovered, already hard. 

He sits up to catch your lips in a heated kiss, riling you both up as you cover him with your wetness, “I have condoms in the drawer,” He whispers when he pulls away from you by just a fraction.

“Don’t be stupid,” You say as you grind down on him, “I wouldn’t fuck you if I wasn’t clean.”

“And I know you’d be off the squad if you didn’t pass your monthlies,” You continue, now gripping him by the base of his cock.

“And I’m on the pill,” You say with a slight falter in your bravado as the head of his cock catches at your entrance, “So don’t you want to fuck me raw?”

You should have known not to challenge Soonyoung because there was never a challenge he stood down from. He pushes into you at the same time you begin to sink down on him and it causes him to slip all the way in, his cock filling you completely and the stretch leaving you speechless.

The feeling of his cock driving into you at once has the hair all over your body standing and you feel the electric shock of pleasure racing up your spine to the very top of your head.

The noise you let out is nearly demonic.

Despite the position, there’s no mistaking who is calling the shots. Just his first thrust into you had your brain turning into mush, so when Soonyoung continued to fuck up into the heat of your cunt, you had grown useless on top of him. There was no way to decipher the nonsense you were spewing, just that they were surely words of praise for how thoroughly Soonyoung was fucking you.

It should have come as no surprise that fucking a footballer meant that your stamina would be put to the test. But still, you’re wholly unprepared for how long and how hard Soonyoung could go when it came to fucking. When you had fallen into his arms, unable to hold yourself up as he fucked into you from below, he had pushed you onto your back to fuck you while he had both of your legs over one shoulder.

By then he could match you with how he could hardly keep himself shut, groaning out praises about how tight you were around him with your legs pressed together.

“On your hands and knees, baby,” He instructs as he pulls out and lets your legs fall to the bed, you don’t miss how breathless he’s beginning to sound and you revel in how wreaked you’ve gotten him as well.

You quickly position yourself as he has requested but take it further by pressing your chest onto the bed, arching your back and folding your arms behind you. In a brief moment of tenderness, Soonyoung takes one of your hands in his and intertwines your fingers.

Of course he matches it with filth when he spanks your backside then grabs the meat of your buttcheek to spread you open for him, “Look at this wrecked pussy.”

You preen under his attention and smile even if he can’t see your face in this position.

He collects the wetness of your pussy to lubricate himself before pushing into you and you swear the world stops spinning for a minute. Soonyoung was big, long enough to curve into you nicely, and his girth enough to have you gritting your teeth at the initial thrust into you.

But the position he had you in let him into you so much deeper, you swear you can feel him up to your throat, and you know you’re clenching around him with a vice grip. He felt so perfect inside of you that you could only wish he felt as good.

“You’re so deep, Soonyoung,” You say shakily, as he stills you with a hand on your hip.

“Fuck your pussy’s perfect,” He says as he presses even deeper, “Look at you stretched out for me. Making space for me inside of you. No one else can fuck you like this.”

No one can. No one will.

He slips out of you slightly just to press back in harshly with a jolt of his hips and soon he begins an almost punishing pace. He cock presses into the spot inside you incessantly and the feeling of his hands gripping tightly onto the meat of ass is the perfect mix of pain and pleasure that has you gasping out his name in a sinful litany as you cum, unintentionally tightening around him.

The groan he lets out tells you he’s close to coming and when his thrusts start to grow sloppy he pulls out of you suddenly, to wrap a fist around his cock, pulling at himself to cum onto your backside. You know from his first orgasm that Soonyoung can cum a lot and when he spills all over you again now, it lands everywhere, some of it dripping into your hole, still gaping and clenching around nothing when he had pulled out of you.

You whine, a frown making itself present on your face as you turn to face him.

“I thought you were going to cum inside me,” You say, squirming at the cum quickly cooling on your ass and the few drops that had made it inside you keeping you sticky between your thighs. 

“Fuck, you’re going to kill me,” is all Soonyoung can say as he moves to sit up against the headboard and his pillows.

Your eyes follow his hand that’s wrapped around his still hard cock and you push it aside to take over, wanting him back in your mouth. You lay in front of him for a while, letting your tongue lap at him, and leisurely bobbing your head to get him fully hard and wet again.

In no time Soonyoung pulls you up to lay on his chest and slips back inside of you.

You sigh as your body grows boneless against him and he does all the work, hips undulating and pushing his cock into you just right so that you see stars and you gasp into each sloppy kiss. There is not even a millimeter between you two and if someone asked, you’d want to stay this way forever.

Even without the pleasure of fucking, you wished to never part from Soonyoung again.

The realization is jarring at this very moment but you let yourself ride the wave as it makes your orgasm so overwhelming tears fall from your eyes.

When Soonyoung sees the tear stains he moves his lips to kiss them away and whispers words of reassurance before he himself groans, spilling into you and finally filling you with his cum.

You can’t contain the fullness in your heart as Soonyoung lays you on your back, and drapes himself over you. You wrap a leg around his waist, not wanting him to pull away just yet.

Then he smiles.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” You whisper, afraid that saying this now would shatter the moment. But you have to tell him again. Remind him that this cannot just be for one night.

“You have me, you have me, you have me,” He says. 

-`✮´- if you've come this far, thank you and it'd mean the world to get a reblog or to hear your thoughts on my first fic long fic on here!

[mvlders222]

𝐮𝐧𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝

pairing ; lottie matthews x fem!reader

wordcount ; 2.3k

summary ; you've always found yourself butting head with lottie. you both can't seem to find out why. what happens when she takes it just a little too far? (enemies to lovers)

warnings ; injury, cursing, shouting match, use of y/n (let me know if i missed anything!)

The feeling of the cold, crisp air rushing past your skin was evident as you ran across the field. The ball between your cleats was wet with the morning dew as it glided along the freshly cut grass. The morning was foggy, the sun hidden behind soft clouds.

Your concentration was interrupted by a presence on your close right. Lottie was catching up to you, and fast. You tried to outrun her, desperately, but you struggled to keep the ball intact.

Her body crashed into your side, making you trip over your own feet and collide with the ground. You had the wind knocked out of your lungs and your head was beating with your heart, sounding through your ears. You winced, feeling the adrenaline run dry and your back start to ache. You realize you’ve lost.

It’s just a scrimmage, you have to remind yourself. Before anyone could score, however, the sound of a whistle being blown cut the game short. That didn’t cover the sound of Lottie’s groans. “Are you serious?”

You sat up from the ground to face her, gently to not hurt yourself further. “What the fuck, Lottie?” The scowl on your face matched hers.

“Hey, come on!” Coach Ben hollered at the both of you, heads turning to where he stood at the edge of the field. “Just help her up, yeah?”

You both turned back toward each other. Lottie looked down at you with an irked expression, as if you had done something wrong. She held her hand out to you begrudgingly, hoping that you wouldn’t accept it.

You looked up at her through your lashes, squinting ever so slightly. The sight of her above you made you feel small. You slapped your hand into hers and pulled yourself up. You still face her, not breaking eye contact.

Lottie doesn’t let go right away. Instead, she tugs you closer and tilts her head to your ear. “You need to keep up,” she whispered. She wasn’t going to let this go. “I’d hate to see you on the bench.” You could hear the self-satisfied grin in her voice.

“I’d just hate to see you in general.” You taunted her back. You pull your hand from her grasp and give her one last scowl before walking back to your side of the field.

Lottie’s smile falters for a second before she scowls and rolls her eyes. The whistle blows one last time, signaling the end of practice. All the girls ran back to the locker room, some stopping you to make sure you were okay.

You sat alone on the bench, it still hurt to move. You were the last one in there, along with Shauna. She shut her locker, and the sound of that and her sneakers along the tile floor cut the silence. She turned toward you, a sympathetic look on her face. “Do you need a ride?”

You shook your head and sighed. “I think I just need some time, yeah?” Which was true. You hated struggling in front of your peers, you didn’t want your friends to worry about you. In your mind, being seen as vulnerable was a sign of weakness. That was something you couldn’t see yourself coming back from.

She nodded and walked toward the exit, looking back once more. “Call me if you need anything, okay?” You gave her a reassuring smile and watched her back as she left.

Now, all alone, you sighed to yourself before getting up and shedding your uniform. You put your hair up as you walked into the showers. You turned the nozzle, cold water came spitting out sporadically and you tried to shield yourself. You held your hand out, trying to sense the warmth.

As the steam rose in the air, you relaxed into the water, feeling your muscles unwind. Closing your eyes, you let the bar of soap glide across your body.

“You’re still here?” You whipped your head toward the source of the voice and saw Lottie, standing just outside of the showers. She looked you up and down with a stupid smile on her face.

“Jesus Christ, Lottie!” you shouted at her and tried to cover yourself. “Go away!”

“Sorry! I can’t help it,” she laughed at your state, turning away and walking further into the locker room. “Let me get you a towel, at least.”

“You shut off the shower water and walked to the edge between the showers and the locker room floor. She walked back, towel in hand. You held out your arms, peeking out from behind the wall between you two.

“Hold on now.” She looked at your outstretched arm before looking down at the towel again. “What am I doing?”

“Come on, Lottie.” you pleaded, although she had been talking to herself now. “I’d be an idiot to give you this.”

“You’re an idiot anyway.” You were starting to get pissed at her. How could she be so laid back right now? “Give me the towel, Lottie.”

“That’s not very nice, angel,” she teased and brought the towel to her chest, further from your reach. you tried calming down, sighing before looking at her with a tight expression. “Please, Lottie? I need it.”

“Only ‘cause you said please.” She brought the towel to your hand and you snatched it from her grasp. You wrapped it around yourself and walked back to your locker where a clean pair of clothes sat.

Lottie followed behind you, her gaze on your back. She suddenly remembered what happened during practice. “Hey, I’m sorry… about earlier.” She sounded sincere, but you couldn’t believe it.

“You don’t have to apologize, Lottie.” You shook your head, exhausted from her antics and the whole day in general. You stood in front of your open locker with a pair of clean clothes. “Um, turn around, please?” You couldn’t face her, too embarrassed in your current state.

She understood immediately and did so. You unwrapped the towel from your frame and let it drop to the floor. Grabbing a clean pair of underwear, you bent down to slip them over your legs. This cycle continued until you got to your sports bra, bringing your arms over your head to put it on. A sharp pain cut through your movements, causing you to let out a resounding groan in response.

Lottie heard this and became concerned. “Do you need help?” She turned her head to the side as she tried to make her voice clearer, despite it being the only noise in the room. You sighed and gave in. “Yeah…”

Without hesitating, Lottie turned back around and walked to your side, her gaze softening at the sight of you. You looked dejected, and she understood that. She grabbed the cloth from your hands and stood behind you.

“Arms out,” she commanded. Although it wasn’t the most comfortable position for you, it was better than the cohesive movements of dressing yourself. You let her arms caress yours, the heat contrasting against the cold atmosphere. She brought the article of clothing up your arms and shoulders. You ducked your head and she stretched the material over your neck.

She leaned over your shoulder to grab the shirt from your locker, her body pressed into your back, causing you to shudder. She backed away slightly. “Sorry,” she mumbled.

She pulled the shirt out and inspected the image printed on the front. “Bangles? Really?” She smiled at the worn-in design, the breath from her laugh hitting your neck. You flush, embarrassed by the old rag in her hands.

“The Bangles are good.” You tried to defend yourself. It was hard when her tall frame was surrounding yours. She turned her head toward yours and smirked. “The Go-Gos are better.”

“We really can’t agree on anything, can we?” she asked, her gaze catching yours, making you feel weak in the knees. She looked back at the t-shirt and her brows furrowed. “This one might be a little difficult…” She continued to look at the shirt, trying to think of a solution to cause the least pain.

Lottie shoved the shirt back into the locker in front of you. You turned to her out of confusion about her actions, only to see her unzipping her jacket and taking it off. She held it out to you. “Take it.”

You looked down at her jacket and shook your head. “No, Lottie, I can’t…”

She cut you off. “Please, Y/n?” She wasn’t going to let you be so stubborn. “Take this as my apology… I feel bad.” She had mumbled the last part, but it still came through. You looked back down at the jacket in her hands. It was a maroon color, and it also looked warm. What reason did you have to not take her offer?

“Fine.” You took her jacket, unfolded it, and slipped it over your shoulders. You zipped it closed and looked down at yourself. It hugged your frame perfectly, almost like it was made for you. “Thanks, Lottie.”

“It’s no problem.” You two stood in front of each other for a minute more, every so often making eye contact and looking away once caught. She cleared her throat to disrupt the silence. “Do you, uh, need a ride?”

“Yeah.” You nodded and looked back up at her and offered her a soft smile. “Yeah, that’d be nice.”

Lottie smiled back at you, happy to help you out. She shut your locker for you and grabbed your bag off the bench. You just stood there in disbelief and watched her begin to walk out. Not hearing your footsteps behind her, she looks back at you with a blank expression. “You comin’?”

“Yeah, sorry.” You snap out of your position and begin to walk after her. You trailed her out of the locker rooms. “I can carry my stuff, y’know.”

“Not with a bum shoulder. Plus, I did that to you. The least I can do is help you out.” You both walked across the field and onto the hot asphalt of the parking lot. You nodded along with her words, not that she could see it.

Lottie’s car was one of the only ones left in the lot, and it was nice. She walked around to the passenger side, standing next to you. She grasped the handle to the door and opened it, holding it for you. You looked up at her a mumbled a ‘thank you.’ You slipped inside, hitting the warm leather of the seat.

She shut the door and you watched out the windshield as she walked around to the driver’s seat. She opened the door and got in, tossing your bag in the back seat. You faced forward, avoiding any eye contact with her.

Lottie didn’t start the car just yet. She fastened her seatbelt and looked at your expression, which to her was unreadable. “What’s wrong?”

You finally turn your head to look at her, biting your lip as you contemplate whether you should tell her or not. “Are you just gonna go back to hating me after this?”

She flinched at your words, seemingly taken aback. She shook her head in confusion. “Where did this come from?”

“Come on, it’s not exactly a secret.” You rolled your eyes, starting to get worked up. You turned in your seat to face her fully now. “You’re just doing all of this to make yourself feel better.”

“That couldn’t be further from the truth.” She was starting to raise her voice in defense of your yelling. She felt offended by your accusations. “I can’t do something nice for a friend?”

“Oh, please, we’re hardly friends–”

She grabbed your face and pulled you in. In her mind, the only way of shutting you up was physically. And in the process, indirectly admitting her feelings in the process. Her lips were pressed against yours leaving no room for air.

She pulled away from you hastily, an unnerving feeling starting to set in. You both stared at each other with wide eyes, breathing rapidly. She couldn’t believe it. She couldn’t stop thinking about her carelessness. If you hadn’t hated her before, you probably did now.

You leaned over to her in the driver’s seat, pushing her thoughts aside by moving your lips against hers once again. You were now sitting up on your knees, desperately reaching to taste every flavor she had to offer. You brought your hands up to hold her face as you kissed her.

She brought her hand up behind your neck, pulling you impossibly closer. You moaned into the kiss, pulling away for some air. Lottie had not, however, she continued to trail her open-mouth kisses toward your jawline.

“Lottie,” you breathed out, trying to get her attention. She moved her kisses from your jaw and down to your neck, seemingly tuning out your words. “Lottie!” You pushed her head away from your neck and looked at her. Her eyes were half-lidded and she had a dazed look on her face.

She looked up at you and pouted. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, it was perfect.” You moved your hand up to her hair, scratching her scalp. She moaned in response to the feeling. “You’re perfect.” You smiled and pulled away completely, sitting back down in your seat.

“You want me to take you home now? After all that?” She wasn’t upset, actually she was quite the opposite. But she was also confused by your actions.

“No, I’m waiting for you to start the car and take me out.” You were now finding it difficult to hide your smile, butterflies going crazy throughout your stomach.

Lottie was now the one who couldn’t contain herself. “That’s my girl.” She let out a small smile before leaning toward you again, pressing another kiss to your cheek. She turned forward and turned the keys to start the engine.

[artsninspo]

FORGIVELESS - XI - I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU BEFORE, IT'S NOT GON’ END HOW YOU WANT 🥀

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➨ rio's library - good girl nbc

「 ✦ full library & archive ✦ 」

MOODBOARD 🖼️

Pairing: Rio (Good Girls) X Reader

Word Count: ~4.3K

Warning: NSFW, 18+, this one's 🌶️ 🌶️ 🌶️

Authors Note: The finale is here, this is the series' last chapter. I don't want to spoil anything so enjoy 😊

XI - I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU BEFORE, IT'S NOT GON’ END HOW YOU WANT 🥀

You look around at all the smiling faces as the party dies down. Exhaling you find your eyes at the dessert table only to find them absent of all the sweet treats you’d spent the morning agonising over. There was hardly any food left in the aluminium trays either but people seemed satisfied enough. You find your mother and Tia’s sharing a laugh and everyone else enjoying themselves similarly. You can’t remember a time in recent years where you’ve felt this peaceful and sure about where life was taking you. When you first discovered James’ infidelity it had been heartbreaking. You felt like your marriage or at least the image you had of it was over and so were the happiest times of your life. You felt like your next chapter would have been tears and shame for being a divorcee, being unable to keep a man or worse yet, not being able to leave and somehow being convinced to stay in misery. It was the reason you sought to get even in the first place. You’d have been comfortable with a subtle betrayal. A betrayal all the same, not equal to an affair but equally as devastating to James’ ego. Whether or not you decided to share your indiscretions in the beginning it was enough just to know you were no longer giving him your all when all he had was pieces for you, and not even the best parts. If only you had known then what you know now. You’d been selling yourself short of endlessly appealing possibilities right around the corner. There was no need to cry. James didn't deserve you and he was far from the big fish he positioned himself as. He didn't have enough good qualities for you to be as wrapped up in him as you were. If you had vision then you would’ve left the minute he started acting up. 

You read the final divorce decree one more time and smile seeing you’ve won all the contested points along with all your entitlements. James has been a kitten since hisincident. He’s been pleasant every single time you’ve come across him for a hearing and signed the papers no problem. There’ve been no more stupid messages and you’ve been free to move forward without prying eyes and stress. Even James’ mother had relaxed her tone and all of the betrayal talk. You know it's because of Rio, although you’ve never talked about it. Being a part of his life for these past few months has made one thing clear; he’s ready for war about anyone he loves. You were free to move on officially. Freedom had ever felt so good. It was slow mornings without the need to prepare lunches or rushing to look presentable only for it to be disregarded and unappreciated. It was teaching classes at the yoga studio in the afternoons and sometimes shopping or lavish dinners and cafes in the evenings. It was the kind of life most dream of - especially after something so tumultuous and you were acutely aware and infinitely grateful for your new reality. You smell his cologne and the hair on the back of your neck stands up before you feel familiar hands take your hips pulling them gently to rest against him. Your body relaxes further as you look at everyone in your new place enjoying themselves.

“You did so good decorating this place they don't want to leave” Rio mutters, placing a kiss on your cheek.

“It’s only nine” you defend your guests.

“The food is gone and they’ve been here since three” he complains and you turn to face him amused with his possessiveness. The past few weeks had been wearing him thin. He’d been working so hard managing his establishments and deliveries to your place he was stressed.

“Oh shit, my cousins’ back. That means we gotta leave before the not so subtle remarks start” Tia says aloud. Instead of awkward silence there’s laughter. Rio’s never been one to hide who he is or make apologies for it.

“Oooh look at the time! I’m missing my show” Your mom says shooting up from her seat, you roll your eyes knowing she’s headed to the guest suites in your building to watch her crush on television.

“Let’s help clean up this housewarming, divorce party” Marisol remarks, always considering others.

“Ladies, it’s taken care of. Drive safe” Rio interjects, waving them off. It shouldn’t surprise you that he’s got it handled but it does.

“There’s that personality we know and love” Tia scoffs now in front of you. “Drive safe? That’s pretty polite Y/N, your manners are rubbing off, usually it would be it’s time to leave, go”  Tia teases, hugging you.

“Thanks for coming Tee and I know, I’m going to love whatever it is in that huge box” you smile.

“Oh I know you will. Call me tomorrow love” She smiles, kissing your cheek.

“Bye Tia” Rio rasps as she adjusts her purse on her shoulder.

“Stop stressing it doesn't look good on you. People always love the Rio experience the restaurant will do as well as all the others”  Tia says giving Rio a hug.

“She’s right” you add with a smile, Rio does the same. More of the same goodbyes happen until the place is empty. Then like clockwork four women wearing cleaning uniforms walk in, getting to work.

“Did I tell you I love you today?” You ask looking up at Rio.

“You did, love you too” Rio responds lowering to pull you into a kiss. It’s slow and just as meaningful as his first I love you’s. That had occurred on your first real official date and on a beach. A replica of the night James had stolen from you in Mexico with that stupid message. The beachouse was gorgeous as was the experience. No matter how busy work got Rio never missed an opportunity to show his love for you. It was something you didn't know you needed until being with him.

“How long are they gonna be?” you whisper and Rio chuckles knowing what’s on his mind is the exact same thing that's on yours.

“About an hour, they’re the best. It'll be like no one was here” Rio whispers in response. You watch as your presents are piled into a corner, and you can't remember the last time you were loved so generously but a community of people.

“Your family is sooooo good to me Rio” you tell him honestly. Each of the few women that had been invited to celebrate the day with you came with full hands. While the women in your family came with mostly envelopes from the older crowd. They’d already given you so much after your wedding, it felt wrong to ask for more during your divorce. The invitations were devoid of requests for gifts but still no one came empty handed. Everyone in attendance had decided that the joint venture Housewarming and Divorce party deserved both gifts and commotion.

“Family knows treating you right goes a long way with me” Rio mutters as you move out of the kitchen to let the cleaners have their space.

“Have you eaten?” you ask Rio.

“Not hungry” he says, stopping you from making him a plate before the food is discarded.

“Baby, I need you to take the day off tomorrow to spend it with me. No restaurant talk, no stress, just good food and us” you tell him. It’s your first request of this type and you know Rio will oblige it.

“Ok” he agrees at the same time as his work phone sounds. Exhaling, he answers with his eyes closed and his shoulders fall. “I’ll be there in thirty” he sighs.

“I’m sorry, I gotta go handle this” Rio says, giving you a little PTSD.

“Okay, let me change out of this dress and come with you” you swallow.

“It can't wait Mama, if you're coming it has to be now” Rio responds. Nodding you grab your phone and a purse before grabbing his hand. You know it's gonna be bad with how silent he is. It’s something you’ve learned about him. He gets silent and then he’s in the zone which can be either really good or bad depending on where you fit in the spectrum. Always the gentleman he gets the door for you and you ride off into the darkness with him in the G-Wagon. The drive into the heart of the city takes you thirty minutes giving Rio time to stew in his anger. There are bustling business all around and you cringe having overheard a few calls of Rio admonishing contractors for the delays and imperfections. Rio was ‘bleeding money’ as he put it and you could visualise what that meant now more than ever.

“Baby, when we get in there let’s try to be calm” you interject as he parks out front.

“I love you and your softness but that’s not good for business” Rio says getting out of the car. He gets your door and you hold his hand hoping to transfer some good energy to him as his body stiffens. He opens the door and your jaw drops at the fruit of his labour. It’s the most gorgeous restaurant you’ve ever set foot in. Something straight out of a dream.

“I’ll be back” he says, kissing your forehead and striding off as you look around. The place looks like a tropical oasis. The rich green foliage on the walls and ceilings put the hairstylist salon walls to shame. It’s like a lush upscale botanical garden. You just know it’ll be all over social media once the door’s open. There are three levels as far as your eyes can see and two glass pod booths that seem suspended in the air. You know Rio and that the experience of being up there probably costs a fortune.  Hearing Rio’s footsteps return you exhale in admiration of his accomplishments.

“Christopher, you gotta take it easy on this team, it's gorgeous here. I think it’s your best work yet” You tell him honestly.

“I need this one to be prefect and they fucked up the sign” he snaps. Frowning you follow him outside.

“Nobody’s gonna care about the sign when inside looks liiiiii-” your words hitch as the sign lights up. Your heart races and body heats as you read your name in bright lights that are your favourite colour in fluorescence. You’re at a complete loss for words and feel tears stinging as you turn to Rio who you find on bended knee. 

Your heart hitches.

Breathes cease.

Vision blurs.

Sound becomes muffled and you blink to everything happening in slow motion. 

Rio, the proudest man you’ve ever met is on one knee in the middle of the city for you. Outside of the most gorgeous venue, restaurant, whatever, you have ever laid eyes on, that is also named after you? You can feel your brain begin to short circuit.

“I’m not good with speeches. All I know is that this is the happiest I've been in my entire life. You make me better in every way baby, and I want forever to experience life with you. Forever you make you happy, to appreciate you and love you. Please Y/N, say yes and be my wife” he says with his brown eyes shining in the well lit street. Your eyes have been locked on his the entire time you haven't looked at the shimmering rock waiting to grace your finger. The literal ring of your dreams. 

Perfection.

“Yes” you tell him, nodding furiously. Smiling Rio stands and you kiss him hard before he puts on the ring. There's cheering outside from strangers and onlookers. You smile looking at your ring as Rio takes you inside only for you to be startled by the cheering of both of your families. Including the ladies you just said goodbye to.

“Rio, baby it’s perfect” you swallow about to lose it and he hugs you tight. Family and friends give you a moment to enjoy the proposal and this time when Rio kisses you the hooting and hollering is from loved ones.

Your heart is beyond full.

Turning back to Rio you wonder how he managed all of this, how he’d managed to make this happen so perfectly in so little time.

“No wonder you were stressed” you smile, kissing him again. “How’d you keep all this from me?” you ask.

“Tia helped” Rio smiles holding you.

“Congratulations baby girl!” Your mom beams taking you and Rio into a group hug. “Christopher baby, I love how you love my daughter and I’m so happy for the both of you” your mom smiles giving you a kiss on the cheek each.

“Thanks Ma.” Rio smiles melting your heart even more. 

The ground floor is turned into a dance floor and after the congratulations are in order people begin to party.  You mingle and smile for pictures while letting people see the ring. It's exciting, it's overwhelming, it's heartwarming, it's real love. Processing the day you sit still on your fiance’s lap trying to piece together how he’d managed such an expression of love. How he’d seamlessly put together a proposal far better than anything you could have fathomed in so little time. How there were details to reflect your personality all over the space. You place your palm over his as he holds you close. Your life has changed so much in so little time. The difference between then and now is so glaring. One man, if James could be called that, was constantly busy and made up excuses to inflate his ego and importance of his job. All while while he was cheating and left you at your anniversary dinner alone to appease his mistress. The other man, Rio really was busy as an entrepreneur and yet he did not exploit your lack of questioning, he’d honoured your trust with loyalty and devotion. While James had been whoring outside of your marriage, Rio had been toiling away to build a strong covenant.

“Rio, tell your staff to lock up. Let them party, I want to go home” you tell him ready for some one on one time.

“Tia and Granny said there are supposed to be speeches” Rio informs as you turn to face him. No response is required as you raise a brow countering his point with one of his infamous raised brow ‘Rio’ looks. Smiling in an instant he stands with you.

“Come on mama” he says walking you out of the venue. There's no time for goodbyes, only time for a last look. “Tia says the announcement photo should be your hand held up wearing the ring against the lit sign. Her reference was Rihanna holding the football for the superbowl” Rio laughs getting your door and you smile.

“Her mind is something” you laugh, shaking your head as Rio closes the door.

Looking down at your ring again you smile holding it out in front of you. It’s the last thing you expected and a very pleasant surprise. You and Rio had spent little to no time talking about marriage. He’d been there as you found your apartment, looked through catalogues for the furnishings and decorated. He’d helped when it was asked of him and he had his key coming over on whatever night you weren’t over at his house. He’d given your space and freedom, never complaining or applying pressure.

“You like it?” Rio asks, drawing you from your thoughts.

“Yes but I love you more” you respond holding over to kiss him at the red light.

“I know,” he nods, holding your hand. “But it was good? The proposal?” He asks.

“Yes!” You swallow, nodding vigorously. “I’m the luckiest girl in the world” you beam believing your words as your ring hits the light glistening once again.

“I love you” he repeats heading into the underground parking of your building. Once in your spot you unbuckle your seat belt and grab his face  and smother him in kisses until he changes the pace, slowing things down so you can feel them in your toes. Your hands fall as things heat up. Rio's hand goes to your neck holding you feel his fingers fasten his hold stabilising you for the kiss. You feel the goosebumps first before the sensations start between your legs. There’s nothing like being with a man who wants you this much. The kiss only breaks when the two of you are panting and breathless. Catching your breath you can see Rio is as ready as you are with the tent pitched in his pants.

“Come on” he says, seeing people walking to their cars. You take his hand once out of the car and head to the elevator. Another couple comes in and you stand in front of Rio hiding his predicament until they step off then you turn to face him. You hope it’s always like this. 

“Promise me it’ll be like this forever” you whisper looking up at him.

“Like what?” he asks as his hands rest on your ass.

“Like you're always happy to see me. We keep our chemistry. I want us to never lose the love and the kindness or the intimacy we share. I don't want to pretend around you or you around me ever. I don't want us to lose us.” you explain and he holds on to your every word. Rio nods, unable to figure out how it seemed everything he’d ever wanted was wrapped up in one person.

“Promise” he affirms without hesitation as the elevator door opens. Smiling, you turn to exit hand in hand. The need to kiss you is too much to wait for the door to open. Crowding your space Rio backs you into your front door kissing you right there. Everything about him makes you feel incredible. You both get lost in the moment and only break a part when breathing takes precedence over passion.

“Anything else you want from me?” Rio asks, ready to make you happy. You tug at his belt playfully in response.

“Babies?” Rio teases.

“Eventually” you laugh.

“Alright mama” Rio smiles unlocking your door and you gasp again completely surprised by another grand gesture. It’s dimly lit and tea light candles are twinkling in vases with red roses and petals adorning your living room and leading to the bedroom you assume.

“Baby” you laugh happier than ever. You hadn’t put any thought into the cleaning staff as another set of people doing Rio’s bidding. He smiles at your surprise. You walk in more feeling the petals under your feet and admire all the effort he’s put into making today special. “Thank you” you smile and he nods accepting your thanks without protest for once.

“You’re welcome” he says into your ear as you look out to see more decor on the balcony. Rio’s hands run down your thighs before coming up with the hemline of your dress. He steps forward leading you against the glass. You’re already wet for him after all the kissing and the day. “Tell me how you want me to fuck you baby?” He asks, calling back to your first time together. There are no words for how it makes you feel. 

He’s everything.

“I want you to tell me how you want me” you whisper placing your full trust in him. His eyes flicker and he backs up sitting on the couch. Excitement flashes in yours and you sit on his lap first.

“Unzip me?” you ask and he does, slowly. Turning you kiss him teasingly before slinking down onto your knees in your undergarments. You unzip him without direction nestled between his legs. He springs free ready to give new life and you kiss your king's sceptre. Your newest accessory sparkles in the candle light. Accentuating every hand stroke. Your eyes stay fixed on your fiancé whose eyes are fixed on you. It had taken some getting used to in the beginning but with practice you were becoming a pro at handling his size. Your head and hand slides to stroke his ego. Soft whispers of praise keep you inspired and aroused. You go to work feeling his body tighten, a precursor to his climax and when his hand guides your head you release control following his lead. You bob to his rhythm, sucking and licking his length to illicit praise. 

“Fuuuuu-” Rio’s words fade, his lids closing shut as the pleasure hits its climax.

You apply more suction continuing to your own rhythm as his hand falls from your head leaving you to your own devices. Looking up at him you take him as deep as you can and it’s his undoing. You stay in place as he tries to save you from the onslaught of his orgasm - you swallow every last drop. The sensation is too much for him. Fiery eyes watch you as his stomach rises and falls. He’s in awe of you. Pleasantly surprised and ready for round two. Kissing his tip having completed your task you revel in the way Rio looks at you. Every day your actions solidified more and more that you were the only one for him. Shaking his head he smiles as his energy returns. He must be the luckiest man in the world to have the most beautiful woman on her knees in front of him ready to do whatever he asked out of love. He feels you take hold of his manhood again as you wait patiently for him to return the favour of an orgasm. The thought alone makes you shudder, that’s how much effect he has on you.

“Are you trying to make my head explode?” He asks, sitting up and forward.

“I did” you tease with your mind in the gutter. 

Rio smiles, “Not that one mama”

“I was trying to please my fiancé” you smile testing out the new title. Rio’s chest burns with pride.

 “Fiancés don’t fuck like where about to mama” Rio promises. “This is too good,” he smiles. Way too good. “Now tell me what you want?” he asks, ready to oblige.

You stand making your way to the floor to ceiling windows and rid yourself of your panties. 

“I'd like you to help me enjoy the view” you smile politely. Rio finds you there unclasping your bra. The coolness of the glass against your nipples adds to the sensation. Anticipation swells as his hands trace your skin, teasing you for time. Rio’s need for you is at ten. There could never be anyone else. Ever. He didn't know what he’d done in a past lifetime to deserve a woman like you but he was thankful. He needed to taste you first, to make you come in waves until your delirium and arousal were so intertwined your lids would shut and moans were his only compass. Nothing tasted sweeter than your arousal and tonight you were wetter than usual as he turned you back to face him, propping one of your legs over his shoulder to better his access to your centre. These past few months he’d learned your body to the point of expertise knowing exactly what to do to get you to your climax. The feel of your hand on his head is another one of your tells. The visual of you swallowing flashes, giving him fuel to make you feel just as good or even better. He needed to make the start of forever special.

“Rio” your moans are breathy as your head arches back against the glass window. Your body goes stiff, only supported by Rio who doesn't let up. The sensations only further your already shallow breathing but do nothing to satisfy your want or need for him. You didn't understand how the by-product of excellent loving was insatiability.

“Right there, come for me” Rio says into your core. He watches you come and matches the same energy you had for him. He allows you to recover wearing a satisfied smirk before standing again. His eyes are on your lips but two slick fingers enter you the very moment he meets you in a kiss. You gasp making room for his tongue to slide in and claim its space.

“Rio” you moan against his kiss as his fingers send you into overstimulation. When he finally enters you your hands flatten onto the cool glass as he groans in pleasure. Rio felt like your body was made for him. Everything about you turned him on. The way your walls clung to his manhood made keeping a clear head hard. He wanted to be inside you all the time. It didn't matter how he delivered his strokes, both of you enjoyed the sensations equally. Placing a piss at the base of the back of your neck he grabs your waist bringing your hips back to meet his rhythm. Looking up, the ring on your finger catches his eye in the light. It ignites something in him and he fucks you lovingly into the glass fogging it up with the heat from your bodies. Eventually the two of you make it to the bed where you make love with a sensuality and awareness that only affirms you’re exactly where you're meant to be with a man that's ever better than your dreams could conjure. 

Showered, exhausted and happier than ever, your eyes watch the blackout curtains close to block out the sunrise. Rio pulls you into his arms and your body settles knowing you're in safe, capable hands. He leans in one more time and his kiss lays a claim to you. You meet him there, happily his; now and forever.

Author's note: Ladies and gentlemen thats all folks. FORGIVELESS is over and out. Thank you so much for reading my story, for commenting, reblogging and voting. You've made this process so much fun. I usually stay away from longer series because the fall off with the readers in the last few chapters kills my motivation to keep sharing but you guys have stuck beside me!!! It's infinitely appreciated. An Epilogue should be posted shortly I just didn't want this post to be overwhelmingly long.

Don't forget to like comment, reblog and vote - you all know the drill by now 😉

➨ epilogue

The story is also on wattpad you can read it and follow me HERE

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