#she's much more patient than some of my other friends if that's the right word so that makes talking easier
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If I loved Wataei less I might be able to talk about them more....
#You know what I also like. Jane Austens Pride and Prejudice (knows that's a quote from Emma)#Gosh I really need to read Emma#Been meaning to but I've just been chipping away at mansfield park because it is so long#and personally I find it rather tedious to read because...Well let's just say I'm not very partial to people marrying their cousins#I am aware it was not strange in ye olden days but it's one of those modern biases I can't really shake off#but I can live with it it's just something that makes me do a little displeased frown because honestly#that's the best match the poor girl could've gotten in that book there were no better options at least the guy wasn't a complete moron#as far as I can gage at least#but I guess that's my fault for starting with Pride and Prejudice I found my Austen otp in Elizabeth and Darcy I just think they're really#really neat#I originally got into Jane Austen because I have a classmate or well I guess friend would be a fitting term too although we don't really#talk outside of a school setting or outside of the group but I don't really talk to anyone outside of the group or school anyways so#might as well just call her a friend#but yes she is very into Jane Austen she's such an anglophile in the best way possible it's very endearing she can tell you a lot about tea#and such#but back to topic I got into the books because she liked them and we share an english class where we're the only ones from our little bubbl#so naturally that sparks conversation and what to talk about when two people who are into english novels if not english novels#I got her to read Sherlock Holmes and she still like Agatha Christie better#but I was very happy about that because I really like Sherlock Holmes#she's much more patient than some of my other friends if that's the right word so that makes talking easier#it's not fun when you can tell your conversation partner doesn't really care#so now I'm still trying to get through all the Auste novels I'm doing a terribly poor job at it#been at it since January how many have I managed to finish? two.#I'm listening to the audiobooks and listening to engllish can be very tiring and the lady that narrates has a very nice voice so sometimes#I fall asleep and lose the point where I was so then I have to start the entire chapter again and it's a whole thing really#but where were we ah yes Wataei#I love them I really do it's such a shame I wish I could articulate it and put it into words#but instead I have this feelings soup#oh for shame what a horrible horrible world to live in#I missed rambling in my tags I think if I'm too scared to post something I'll just put it aaaaaalll in my tags again
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(Im)Patiently Waiting
Pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Single Mom!Reader
Summary: Bucky is trying to patiently wait for your call.
Word Count: Over 1.4k
Warnings: Fluff, slight feels, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning and already whipped, okay?)
A/N: Continuing with Moving in Slow Motion and Heart and Home, the phone call! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
Bucky looked down at the phone in his hand. He was never the kind of guy to constantly check his device, but he hadn��t stopped looking at it since he met you. Hell, he checked it while he was still at the museum, hoping for a text or something so he’d have your number, too. He didn’t think it was possible to become whipped so fast, but life still surprised him.
He sighed when the screen went dark. Why hadn’t you called yet? Maybe he came on too strong? He didn’t think he had. Were you just busy? Probably. You had an adorable daughter who needed you love and attention and-
“Bucky!”
His head snapped up to find Steve, his best friend and second-in-command, staring at him. He didn’t look impressed and pursued his lips more when Bucky raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t hear a damn word I said, did you?”
“No,” he replied, not bothering to lie. “Was I supposed to be listening, punk?”
“Yeah, you were, jerk.” Steve ran a hand through his golden hair, plopping down in his chair. “Still hasn’t called yet?”
“Not yet,” he said, setting the phone on the desk in front of him.
“I’m sorry.”
Bucky sighed again, staring off at the books that lined one of the walls of his office. He didn’t divulge much of his personal life to others. It was safer that way, to both protect himself and the people he cared about. But meeting you and your daughter, he told Steve and their small circle all about it. How Sweet Pea bumped into him and his heart melted. How seeing you set his heart on fire.
They were stunned to say the least and were naturally curious about you since you caught his attention. Each of them offered in some way to do their research on you and make sure there was nothing suspicious or dangerous about you, but he refused. His gut instinct told him all he needed to know.
“You know,” Steve began, pulling his attention back. “We can get you her number if-”
He cut him off with a glare. “I already said no,” he growled, taking a breath. He wasn’t going to snap at his best friend. “I’m doing this the right way.”
Bucky was powerful, extremely powerful, but he wouldn’t use his influence over you. It wouldn’t be right. His hands were dirty as it was, and this could be his chance to have something pure.
With his hands up in surrender, Steve nodded. “Sorry. I just… I haven’t seen you like this before and you haven’t even gone on a date with her yet,” he smiled a little. “She must be something special.”
Bucky smiled a little, too. “She is,” he whispered. Things that didn’t make sense before did after he looked in your eyes.
“Yelena will be the judge of that,” the blonde winked.
“Yelena will take one look at Sweet Pea and declare that she’s her aunt,” Bucky teased, both of them chuckling.
If Bucky’s group taught him anything, it was that blood wasn’t always thicker than water. Friends were the family he got to choose. He would defend and protect them with his life. He imagined you were like that with your daughter, perhaps even more.
Who defended and protected you?
A ring echoed in the office and Bucky stared at the device as it lit up. He held his breath when a phone number popped up with no name. His gaze flickered to Steve as it kept ringing. Was it you?
Steve stared back at him like he had grown two heads. “What the hell are you waiting for? Answer it!”
Clearing his throat, he waved for his friend to go, who did so quickly. If it was you, he didn’t want anyone eavesdropping. If it wasn’t you, he didn’t want any witnesses when his face fell.
Releasing his breath, he finally quietly answered, “This is Bucky.”
“Hi, Bucky,” you spoke on the other end, stating your name as well. He slumped in his chair at the sound of your voice, his heart skipping a beat. It was really you. “I don’t know if you remember me, but we met at the science museum.”
“Of course, I remember you. You and Sweet Pea.” He couldn’t forget either of you if he tried and he didn’t want to. Did you think of him as much as he thought of you? “How are you two doing? Did she win the contest?”
“We’re doing just fine. She keeps talking about the museum and wants to go back, but no word if she won the contest or not.” He could hear the smile in your voice and it put a smile on his face, too. “How are you?”
“I’m doing just fine,” he replied, getting up and heading to the sofa so he could relax a bit more. He was better than fine since he was talking to you.
“Sorry it took me a bit to call you.”
Should he admit that he kept checking his phone in anticipation? “No, no. You don’t need to apologize,” he said. You didn’t owe him an explanation either. Whether you were busy with Sweet Pea or you didn’t want to call right away, that was your business. “I’m just glad you called.”
“I am, too.” There was silence on the other end. “So, I, um…” Your nervous giggle was beautifully endearing. “God, I’m really out of practice with this.”
“Practice with what exactly?” he smiled, laying back and looking at the ceiling. He wondered if you were sitting on a sofa, too. Or maybe you were in bed, comfortable, unwinding.
“Talking, I guess. At least with someone outside of work or parenting.” There was that giggle again. He wanted that sound on a loop. “I’m not even sure where to start.”
“Why don’t you start with what you did today?” he suggested.
“That might bore you.”
“I don’t think anything you could say could possibly bore me,” he sincerely said. If you decided to pick up a phone book and read it to him, he’d listen. But he was genuinely interested in your day. The little things would help him get to know you better and build more of that connection, both with who you were as a mother and as a person.
“Okay, but only if you tell me about your day, too,” you said.
“Now my day might bore you,” he chuckled. He wouldn’t start anything with you built on a lie about what he did, but he had to be careful with the truth.
“Mmm. I don’t know. You don’t strike me as a boring kind of guy.”
“Oh, I’m not boring,” he smirked. He would love to show you just how thrilling he could be some time. “But my day might be.”
“Try me,” you smiled.
“Can I ask you something before we talk about our ‘boring’ days?”
“Yeah, anything,” you answered.
Butterflies filled his stomach. Jesus, he was nervous. When was the last time anything made him feel nervous? “Would you like to get a drink with me?”
The pause on your end didn’t soothe his nerves. “A drink?” you repeated, your voice smaller than before. He detected uncertainty, like when he offered you his number.
“Yeah. Coffee at a cafe or wine at a nice restaurant, whatever you want,” he replied, exhaling slowly. He didn’t want to mess up your schedule or over complicate anything for you. “What do you say?”
Bucky stared down the barrel of a gun more than once in his life. He experienced torture. Had come close to death. Waiting for your answer was a different kind of torment. It would either be a killing blow or his saving grace.
“I’d love to get a coffee with you,” you stated, allowing him to properly breathe again. He wanted to pump his fist in the air. “Tomorrow, maybe? Unless that’s too soon. Is it too soon?”
“No, no, that’s great,” he smiled. He couldn’t stop smiling. Even if wasn’t free tomorrow, he’d clear his schedule. “Give me the time and place and I’ll be there.”
“Great.” The uncertainty was long gone. “There’s a cafe not too far from me. I can text you the place and time.”
“I’ll be waiting,” he promised, and he wouldn’t be late. “Now… tell me about your day.”
He was going to soak up every single word until he saw you in the morning.
You called! He's whipped! You have a date! I still need to name this AU. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
#navybrat writes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes#mob!bucky barnes#mob!bucky barnes x reader#mob!bucky barnes x single mom!reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes au#james buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#sebastian stan#sebastian stan x reader#james bucky buchanan barnes#bucky x reader#bucky x female reader#bucky x you#the winter soldier#bucky fanfic#bucky imagine#bucky barnes x fem!reader#x reader#sweet pea 🫛#bucky barnes fic#winter soldier#bucky barnes fluff
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Sunflower
~7.2 k words
From Me: Requested by my 🍓-anon. Sorry it took some time. I took a couple liberties (mostly because I love food a lot so I couldn't make it taste bad hahahaha) I hope you like it! I'm going to post your ask with the request tomorrow. 💕 Right now it's just the one part (but I feel like some may want a second).
Warnings: fluffy and a bit of jealous Harry. Nothing too angsty though this time around.
Summary: Harry has a high paying job that allows him to eat at some of the finest restaurants in the city. But the little bistro that has good drinks and a great staff is by far his favorite. Or maybe it's the waitress he can't get out of his head that has him coming back so often.
“Are you sure this is the place?” Sarah looked skeptical.
“I swear,” Mitch smiled. “I know it doesn’t look like much, but the drinks are good and so are the apps.”
Harry watched the banter of his two best friends. “How did you even come across this place?” Sarah asked as Mitch held the door open for her to enter. Harry took hold of it so Mitch could follow after her. There were no more than fifteen tables and a bar. It was fairly dark but in a good way.
If anything, it contrasted sharply with the sunflowers at nearly every turn. There was a mural painted on the back wall of bright flowers against the dark paint. Each table had a bright blue glass vase with a single sunflower stem in the middle of the table. The aprons the staff wore were covered in a floral print of a garden of sunflowers. It was stunning. Bright and beautiful.
“Aptly named,” Sarah smirked.
Harry chuckled. “S’nice,” he agreed.
Harry and Sarah continued their observation while Mitch waited patiently at the host stand. “I came here for lunch with a client,” he said answering Sarah’s earlier question. “Their friend owns it.” After another moment they were brought to a table. There weren’t many people there; given they were there at two in the afternoon on a Saturday it wasn’t so surprising. The bar was nearly filled, several patrons seemed to be regulars as they got a say in what sporting event got to be on the TV. Only two other tables were filled and there was no need for a bustling staff. “I came for dinner, and it was full capacity with a line. But when you know the owner, you get a table early. They have a little outdoor patio around back too but it’s seasonal.”
The three of them looked over the menu in silence. Until Sarah broached the subject of getting one of every type of appetizer and then there was their daily debate of which appetizer was best and maybe they would have to do one of each since they wouldn’t be able to decide which was best.
Their debate was interrupted by the waitress coming over to introduce herself.
“Hi everyone, welcome to The Sunflower Bistro, have you been here before?”
“I have,” Mitch smiled. “We’re arguing over an appetizer, what do you think?”
Without pausing, she didn’t help the debate. “Oh, one of each,” she giggled.
“See! I told you!” Sarah lightly smacked Mitch’s arm.
This only made her smile grow. “Can I take your drink order while you narrow your choices?” She asked.
There was an exchange of words. Words Harry didn’t hear. But then Sarah and Mitch were looking at him expectantly.
“Harry?” Mitch asked.
“A drink, hello?” Sarah laughed.
Quickly he shook his head. “Sorry,” he cleared his throat, his eyes glancing down at the menu but unable to read anything. “Just water for now,” he murmured unable to make eye contact with her.
“I’ll be right back,” her voice was sweet and pretty.
“Are you alright?” Mitch asked.
“She’s beautiful,” Harry mumbled. “I can’t even look at her.”
When he saw her approach, he was immediately tongue-tied. Overwhelmed. It was like seeing the ocean for the first time. Or a garden. Or a painting in a museum. There wasn’t a way to pinpoint what made her so beautiful. It seemed to be everything. The way her hair was clipped behind her head and just a few soft pieces framed her cheeks. Her bright smile. Her sparkling eyes. The way the sunflower apron cinched her hips. All of it. Or none of it. She was beautiful. Overwhelmingly so. Harry swore he forgot how to breathe. He had been in love before—at least he thought he had been. This wasn’t comparable.
So he couldn’t even look at her.
Sarah giggled. Enjoying the way her friend’s face turned pink at the admission. Mitch smiled. “Aw Harry’s got a crush!”
“Shut up, she’ll hear!” Harry snapped and put the menu in front of his face, hiding from the rest of the restaurant.
“Oh my God,” Sarah laughed. “You’re being ridiculous.”
“I could not look at her,” Harry mumbled putting the menu over his face.
“She’s very pretty,” Sarah agreed and reached out to squeeze Harry’s arm. “But you have to look at her.”
Harry’s heart was racing. Like he was sprinting on the treadmill or in the middle of a phone call with an important client. Harry had been nervous before. The exams in college, his first interview, on-boarding new clients. This wasn’t comparable either. “I really don’t think I can, Sarah.”
“Did we make any decisions?” Her kind voice returned, and Harry scanned the menu eagerly, his cheeks still flushed, he was sure.
“Honestly, no,” Sarah laughed. “We’ve been admiring how beautiful this place is.”
And you, Harry thought.
“Oh, I know, it’s practically dreamy working here. The sunflowers are the perfect flower. It’s so sunny and fun,” she explained.
“Have you worked here long?” Mitch asked.
“Yes, since it opened. My friend owns it. It’s like a family kind of thing around here. It’s so nice,” she looked so happy to talk about this place. Passionate. “Niall’s really nice about me going to school and getting me the shifts I want.”
“Oh, that’s so nice! What are you studying?”
Harry wanted to involve himself in the conversation, but he was so speechless by her kind sweet presence, it was impossible to think of a word to say to her. He was grateful his two friends were there to carry the flow of dialogue because it was apparent Harry was going to be useless in that regard.
“Harry also went for a degree in finance,” Sarah segued to look at Harry. He missed her response. That was evident. He would ask when she went back to place their orders what was said specifically.
He looked at her, fully. He hoped he wasn’t staring at her to the point that she wanted to hide and run away from him because he was being a creep. After a pause that was a brief longer than he would have liked, he cleared his throat. “I graduated a couple years ago. I work for a large accounting firm,” it was a miracle he didn’t stutter from how nervous he was. He was holding the menu still to keep his hands from shaking.
Her smile brightened. She looked genuinely happy for Harry. He imagined she was anything but disingenuous, but still. For a complete stranger, who could barely utter two sentences to her, she bubbled with excitement at this knowledge of getting to know him. “Oh! That’s amazing! Nice to meet you, Harry. I’m graduating this spring,” she explained. “I’m super nervous about the whole internship process...I feel like it’s super difficult and overwhelming.”
“Harry’s still in touch with the person he did his internship with,” Mitch volunteered.
He wasn’t. At least...not to the degree that Mitch was suggesting. “Well, I’ll have to give you my card,” she winked at him. “I’ll give you a few more minutes to decide on appetizers.”
Harry felt some kind of crushing relief to watch her walk away. Which was ridiculous because the moment she was gone, he realized how badly and stupidly he wanted her to come back. He could barely even talk to her, but her presence made him happy. Deliriously so.
Sighing, he turned to Sarah. “Am I ruining m’first impression?” He asked.
Sarah smiled and shook her head. “Not at all.”
Harry really hoped not. “I’ve never felt like this,” he mumbled and decided bare minimum, he needed to pick something to eat. At least he could repeat it in his head a few times before she returned and not embarrass himself while ordering.
Hopefully.
*
Like the perfect waitress, she came back to check their food was good and their drinks were refilled. Mitch was right. The drinks were good and so was the food. “Can I get you guys anything else?” She asked sweetly. Fortunately, Harry managed to order his own food without Sarah or Mitch’s help. He didn’t stammer and didn’t make a fool of himself in front of her.
“No thank you,” Sarah turned to Harry. “Did you want to give her your card as well?” She asked. Harry felt like he was having an allergic reaction. His skin felt hot, and he thought that his throat was closing. Part of him wanted to kick Sarah beneath the table but a small piece of him was grateful for her direction and encouragement because it was evident he couldn’t do this on his own. He was prepared to give her his whole wallet. Credit cards, cash, anything in there was hers.
“Er...right,” Harry fumbled, his hands shaking as he opened it.
Harry tried to keep his breath under control as their fingers brushed when she took the card from him. His heart was working triple the beating time it was supposed to from the soft touch that couldn’t have lasted more than a second. “Oh goodness, my card doesn’t look anything like this,” she frowned. “Please don’t judge how ridiculous it is, I thought it was cute and memorable,” she pulled a few cards from her apron pocket.
It was cute and memorable. He didn’t want her to change a thing. The top corners were webbed with a little sunflower vine. Otherwise, the card was white with a half-print, half-cursive font covered in blue. “Well, aren’t you a Jane-of-all-trades,” Sarah laughed. She had listed tutoring, babysitting, painting, lawn-mowing, cleaning, etc.
“Gotta pay the bills somehow,” she admitted. She sighed. “I’m grateful to Niall as I’ve steered away from most of those odd jobs that my dad taught me,” she laughed again. “Waitressing, despite everything, is a lot more stable while I’m still in school. I made that when I was fresh out of high school. It needs a serious update.”
“Harry, where did you make your business cards?” Mitch asked.
If this were a regular day and Harry wasn’t so tongue-tied and nervous, he probably would have thanked his friends for their effort to support him in being his wingman and wingwoman. But he was so out of sorts, so unbelievably captivated and captured by her, he couldn’t fully use his brain. It was embarrassing. If she had even an inkling that he liked her, she probably wasn’t going to reciprocate merely because he was so embarrassing to listen to. There was no way someone so pretty would like him and his inability to speak.
What would their dates even look like? Her voice was so nice, like a song he hadn’t heard since he was young. The kind of song that made him believe in love even though he was young. Her laugh was probably adorable. Her smile was adorable so it could only be so. But she would want conversation. Right? Was she just to chat about her day and her feelings and Harry wouldn’t be able to do anything but stare at her? Admiring how pretty she was?
Actually, that sounded like a pretty decent plan for Harry. But she deserved more.
So instead, he cleared his throat once more. “S’online. I’d have t’look up the website. But yours is memorable,” he assured her. “I like the colors.”
“Thanks, Harry,” God he loved the sound of her voice saying his name. Her adorable smile was so sweet he felt his heart melting. “It definitely needs an update now that I’m about to graduate though, please let me know if you find the website.”
Harry wanted to tell her that he would give her whatever she wanted for as long as they lived and then in their next life too. But instead, he simply nodded and tucked her card safely into his wallet.
*
“This is insane,” he mumbled to himself as he pulled the door out of the way. It had been two days since he left The Sunflower Bistro and the pretty, sunflowery girl he was completely enamored with after hardly speaking to her. While her phone number weighed heavily in his wallet, he couldn’t bring himself to call her. Worried he wouldn’t be able to get a word out when she answered.
How he thought he was going to talk to her without Sarah and Mitch as a buffer was beyond him, but he couldn’t walk past this place either knowing he could see her and try to make up for his tragic first impression. “Hey Harry!” She said walking by the hostess stand. “Nice to see you again! Niall, can you put him in my section?” She asked.
Harry felt the words die in his throat, so he was glad he didn’t have to speak to Niall.
“A regular, hmm? Took you long enough,” Niall called after her.
“Had to hold out for a good one!” She shouted back and disappeared behind a door.
Harry wondered if all those times he had been in love before were real. His chest was fluttering with some emotion he hadn’t felt before then. It was a longing that filled every ounce of his lungs, every cell of his blood. Every inch of him. Like some kind of homing sound was coming from her and echoing in his body. He felt so unbelievably whole when he looked at her. Like he was seen.
Niall brought Harry to a table and smiled at him as he left.
“Hey! I was hoping you’d text or call, I figured it was my crummy card that deterred you. Or maybe it was unreadable,” that laugh of hers was a melody Harry wasn’t going to forget for the rest of his life. She leaned on the opposite side of the booth looking at him. Her hair was pulled back the same way as it was the other night. Silky and pretty. Harry wanted to slide his fingers through it more than anything. Her smile that had haunted all his thoughts at work and made him grin at his computer screen like a lunatic was also still just as earth shatteringly beautiful as last time. Made him tongue-tied just as he was last time.
“Um...yeah, no...,” he managed to smile at her joke. “M’jus’...” he shook his head trying to think of a reasonable excuse that would make any sense as to why he hadn’t called the pretty girl yet.
“Hey, no worries; I’m sure work keeps you busy!” Her voice was cheerful. “I’m glad to see you, is all. Are your friends coming?” His heart nearly stopped that she was glad to see him.
“Not this time,” he hoped that wouldn’t disappoint her because then he would call Mitch and Sarah and order them over. He still had a right mind to do so. Seemed to be the only way he would be able to talk to her more than a few mumbled words.
“Alright, well I’ll let you mull over the menu while I grab you a water. Unless you want something else?”
Drinking alcohol around her might make him fully mute. Or make him spill every thought he had. Without his friends as a buffer, both seemed heinous. “Water’s good.”
“I’ll be right back,” she flitted off like she was floating. Harry believed she was an angel so that made sense.
“C’mon Harry,” he mumbled to himself looking over the menu deciding what he would try today. He was fortunate the food was so good, and it would give him an excuse to come back more times than probably necessary so he could see her again.
“Here you are!” She practically chirped, setting his glass of water in front of him. She leaned against the opposite side of the booth again. “Anything look good?” She asked.
Her.
“Um...m’a fan of street corn,” he scanned the menu again.
“That’s probably my favorite app on there—or the pretzel bites with queso. It shouldn’t work but it does. The veggie soup here is criminally underrated but it’s not really soup season so no fault there. I’ll give you a couple more minutes,” she sauntered off again with her kind smile.
Harry wondered what her favorite song was and why she got into finance. He wanted to ask her what her least favorite subject was in school and what kind of music she listened to while she was cooking. Knowing her favorite candle and what kind of shampoo she used seemed like critical information he needed to know. He wanted to know how many siblings she had and whether or not she would want two kids or three.
All of which was ridiculous.
And further proof Harry had never been in love with anyone before he saw her.
*
Harry visited on Mondays and Fridays. It was a good way to start his week and a great way to end his week. Seeing her bookended by the workweek was nothing short of perfect.
He did this for three weeks. Niall merely smiled, as if he knew why he was there. Harry could feel his cheeks turn pink each time the staff gave him a knowing smile. It was obvious he was there to see her. To be placed in her section. “Hey Harry!” She chirped when he sat at his regular table.
Mitch and Sarah joined him twice more since the day they brought him. He was less tongue-tied but nearly just as shy. They gave him an immense amount of shit for being so smitten. But Sarah thought it was adorable. “You could just ask her out.”
“S’creepy,” he grumbled. “I doubt a waitress wants t’be hit on by their customer.”
“Right, coming twice a week just to see her isn’t creepy,” Mitch eyed him suspiciously as he sipped his drink.
Harry sighed in frustration and rubbed the heel of his hand into his eye. “I jus’—”
“Hey guys,” she nearly cooed so sweetly. Her cheeks turned pink. “I’m running a little behind today. I’m really sorry. This has been the longest double in the world,” her smile was still adorable. But she did look tired. Poor thing. “We’re down a server. And a line cook,” the exhaustion she felt was palpable.
“Oh, you poor thing,” Sarah cooed. “Harry, scoot over, let her sit,” she ordered.
Harry did immediately. Simultaneously terrified and excited to be so close to her. “Oh, it’s alright. I just—”
“Seriously, darling,” Mitch smiled. “Sit,” he encouraged.
She did.
The warmth of her body rolled off her and wafted over Harry in waves. It was like a gentle hug. His heart was rapidly beating, as it always did but somehow even faster now that she was so close to him. “Thank you, my feet are killing me,” she sighed. “I need new shoes, but my car just ate up a big chunk of my paycheck,” she frowned. “When it rains it pours right?”
Harry was trying to figure out the best course of action to help her on every front. He already imagined her tip was going to be exorbitant and he hoped she wouldn’t be upset by that—because he truly wanted to help her. “Have y’eaten yet?” He asked softly.
She bit the inside of her cheek. “No, I have been running around like crazy. Totally missed my chance at lunch.”
“S’not good, love,” Harry frowned. He wanted to call her Miss Sunflower or something similar, but he had one neuron still keeping him sane and decided ‘love’ was more neutral than not.
She nodded in agreement. “I know, I shouldn’t even be sitting. I’m sorry to lay all that on you guys. You’re just the first nice group I’ve had all day. It’s like a break in itself—not that I won’t do what you need and—”
“Oh please,” Sarah rolled her eyes. “We can just fill this table for you if that will make your life easier. Don’t worry about us,” she assured her.
The relief on her face was so sweet. Harry struggled to not wrap her in a hug beside him. “Thank you guys. It’s so nice to see you. I’ve never had my own regulars before,” her smile was so cute Harry wanted to kiss every inch of her face. His skin felt warm sitting so close to her. Snaking his arm around her waist would be so easy, so effortless. “I’ll get you a round of drinks?” She asked as she stood from her seat beside Harry. “Anything to start with today?”
“Pretzel bites,” Harry blurted quickly. “Please.”
He hoped he could convince her to sit and have a few when they came to the table. “My favorite,” she grinned knowingly.
*
When Harry sat in her section, she knew it was going to be a good day. His sweet smile, his easy-going nature, and just his kind presence made her shift immensely better. “He’s here again,” Niall sang as he headed to the kitchen where she was putting together a to-go order for one of her tables.
Her cheeks warmed under Niall’s sing-song tone. “If your food wasn’t so good he wouldn’t be here.”
“Darling, he’s not here for the food,” Niall sounded the slightest bit exasperated. He had repeated himself of the same notion since the second time Harry showed up to be seated in her section. “If he was truly here for the food, would he have left you a massive tip like that to get new shoes?”
The implication was there, and maybe she was having a little more trouble ignoring it after getting way more money from him and his friends than she had ever gotten while waitressing. Her achy feet felt so much better with new shoes too. So, part of her struggled to ignore the fact that Harry was maybe, possibly, there because she was.
Harry never made her feel uncomfortable. In fact, she felt nothing but comfort by seeing him. He was quiet, sweet, and very easy to look at. It took considerable strength for her to not stand at his table forthe entire time he was seated in her section. Mondays and Fridays were her favorite days of the week. Chatting with him (even if he seemed a little shy at times) was the best part of her shifts. His smile was so charming. She wanted to tell him everything about her reflexively. It was completely disarming. Or maybe it was how green and deep his eyes were that nearly made her voice die in her throat. It took a lot of effort to remember her job was to go get drinks and food for him at regular intervals.
She really thought he wanted no part of her when she didn’t even get a text message from him after procuring one of her lame cards. Certainly, with silly little flowers and dumb odd jobs listed, he wanted to steer clear of her. But instead, he showed up a few days later in her section. It made her stomach twist with nervous butterflies flitting inside. There were a thousand thoughts running through her head as she admired her handsome customer from afar.
“Hi Harry,” she smiled sweetly as she approached his table. “How are you?” She asked politely.
“Good, how are you?” He answered.
“Good,” she responded. “I got new shoes,” she pointed a toe toward him for him to look at the new sneakers she chose. “That was extremely kind and overwhelming. You didn’t need to do that,” she bit the inside of her lip. “I tried to stop you guys from leaving once I realized, but Niall—”
“S’nothing, love,” his cheeks turned the lightest shade of pink at the compliment. Her heart skipped a beat at how adorable he was and looked. “Was a long day for you. I jus’ wanted t’help a little.”
She nodded feeling gratitude overwhelm her—it was thick in her throat. “Seriously, thank you,” she hoped he understood how appreciative she was. “No one’s ever done something like that for me before.”
“S’really no trouble,” he assured her with a smile that melted each of her organs to a puddle. She was lucky she stayed upright.
“I’ll...I’ll be right back,” she turned and bumped into the table that was behind her causing the chair to scrape across the floor.
“Are y’okay, love?” Harry asked suddenly behind her. He gently touched the back of her arm creating a plethora of fireworks on her skin and in her heart. She shook her head and blushed nervously.
“I’m good. Clumsy me. I’ll get you your drink,” she nearly sprinted toward the bar so as not to embarrass herself further.
*
She was chatting with Harry, leaning against the booth. It was easy. Harry wasn’t a man of many words, but he was a great listener and when he did talk, everything he said was so kind and genuine. It was like talking to an old friend. Someone who just knew what she was thinking without her having to say much. There was this familiarity that was so warm it wrapped around her like a blanket. It made her feel so comfortable in his presence.
She never wanted to stop talking to him. Which was probably why she didn’t. Poor Harry listened to her chat his ear off for hours during the time he came to visit over the couple months of the semester. His quiet, “what’s that like?” Or, “do you enjoy this class?” And, “do you have a recommendation?” just kept her talking and talking.
It was hard for her to fathom Harry was there for her. Harry was graduated, had a real job, and made a ton of money it seemed if he was willing to tip a poor waitress an obscene amount of money for new sneakers. His clothes were nice, and his hair was perfectly styled. He always looked like he was ready for a business call.
His friends were extremely nice and friendly. They were also put together in a way that she never dreamed she could be so it was hard to imagine a situation in which Harry might possibly, kind of, have a crush on her the way she had one on him.
She was mid conversation with Harry. The fall semester had end and she was going to pick up more shifts somehow but was definitely going to catch up on sleep as well. She was praying that Harry would put her out of her pining misery and tell her he had a girlfriend one of these days. “You have to try this new dish! It has the brussels sprouts you like and—”
She was swept directly off the floor mid-sentence and was wrapped in a hug. It was familiar in a way that was different than the familiarity of Harry. Because she was used to this kind of hug. “Hey beautiful,” he cooed in her ear.
She smiled excitedly. “Hi, Jake! I thought you weren’t starting till this weekend!”
“I’m not, but I was nearby and thought I could use a dose of pretty,” he winked and headed toward the kitchen without another word.
She blushed and shook her head. “Sorry,” she murmured and turned to look at Harry again and finish the sentence she had started. “Anyway, the brussels spr—”
Harry had come to the restaurant in a lot of moods over the last few months. Tired, frustrated, happy, stressed, excited...she was pretty good at reading his expression and deciding what he needed or wanted to make his day better. This expression was unreadable. His jaw was tensed creating a sharp angle at his jawline she was sure it could have cut glass. His eyes were blank but watching her intensely. All of his muscles appeared taut—his posture ramrod straight. It almost looked uncomfortable. “Are you okay?” She asked softly.
Harry blinked, shook his head quickly, and cleared his throat. “Uh...yeah. Sorry,” he reached for his glass of water and took a large gulp. “Y’were saying something ‘bout brussels sprouts,” he reminded her.
She bit the inside of her lip feeling a shift in the air around them. Something she couldn’t quite pinpoint. “Oh, right...just...I think you’ll like the special.”
He nodded. Still completely unreadable. “I’ll try it, thank you.”
“I’ll go...put that in,” she murmured and headed toward the kitchen.
The kitchen was still greeting Jake when she entered. Everyone was listening to him recount his semester abroad. “Whoa, did you see a ghost?” Niall asked, doing a double take when she entered.
She shook her head and rolled her eyes. “No, it’s nothing,” she punched her code into the computer and tapped the meal for Harry.
“Did Harry tell you he has a girlfriend?” Niall pressed.
“No,” she muttered, her cheeks burning red. She grabbed a plate off the shelf for the other table she was waiting on and made sure it had all the extra sides and things. She grabbed the second dish and placed it on her arm.
“Who’s Harry?” Jake asked.
“The love of her life,” Niall told him.
“Shut up, Niall.”
He chuckled. “Oh? Were you going to tell me about him?”
“I’m a bit busy right now.”
“You couldn’t text me?” Jake asked. Jake had been her best friend on the job since Niall opened the sunflowery place. They were a great dynamic duo. But Jake was into dating a lot of different women and that was totally fine and his prerogative. She didn’t judge him at all for being young and doing what he wanted. But she wanted no part of his love life. So they remained friends and it was truly better that way. He would bail her out if a customer was being rude or coming on too strong. She helped him with his math homework and made sure he remembered to drink something other than protein shakes and alcohol on the weekend.
“There’s nothing to write home about,” she mumbled, lying through her teeth and feeling devastated that something in the air shifted between them in a matter of seconds.
Niall snorted in disbelief. She glared at him. Jake smiled impishly while she gathered the final fixings for the table. “Where is he?” He asked as she pushed on the door.
“Jake,” she choked nearly losing the plate in her left hand.
“Niall, do you know him?” He looked expectantly at him. He smirked, opening his mouth to give him the details.
“Uh—”
“Niall!” She snapped. Niall closed his mouth immediately and shrugged at Jake.
She sighed with relief and pushed through to the restaurant floor. “Table thirty-four!” he shouted, muffled by the closed door. She glanced back to see him hovering over the computer.
It took every ounce of self-control to hold onto the dishes in her arms. She wanted to scream. She hurried to her table to deliver the food, prayed they wouldn’t ask for anything additionally, and then she nearly took out another waiter while running for Harry’s table on the other side of the restaurant.
Jake was letting go of Harry’s hand as she approached, and she shoved Jake out of the way. “I don’t know what he said but it’s not true.”
Harry smirked, a good sign of his normal smile and demeanor. “Y’not friends?” He questioned.
She punched Jake in the arm who barely registered the motion other than lightly rubbing his arm without breaking eye contact with Harry. “Not anymore,” she grumbled.
“She’s my work wife,” Jake said wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “Can’t get her to commit to being my actual wife.”
“Don’t want any diseases,” she muttered. The blank, cold stare in Harry’s eyes returned and she felt so warm she tried to push against Jake but was unsuccessful. “Harry is also in finance,” she explained. “He offered to help me make a new business card—”
“Thank God,” Jake interrupted.
“—and he might know someone for an internship.”
Harry’s answer was gentle even though the cold stare didn’t waver. “Don’t think y’need t’change the business card all that much, love. S’sweet.”
“Childish and unprofessional,” she said pointedly.
“Agreed,” Jake squeezed her to his side. “Thanks for keeping her company while I was gone,” he said. Harry wasn’t a man of many words. But his facial expressions made up for it. He smiled politely, nodded, and glanced at his phone ringing.
“I have t’take this,” his voice was tight, apologetic.
“Of course, let’s go,” she yanked on Jake and headed toward the kitchen again.
“Not sure why you like him, he’s pretty cold,” Jake taunted as they returned to the kitchen.
“Cold?” Niall asked. “Harry makes her feel all warm and fuzzy,” he teased. She wrinkled her nose and definitely felt warm at the insinuation.
“He’s... not himself today,” she admitted. “I don’t know why,” she frowned and turned to Niall. “It’s weird.”
“Darling, you can’t be this brilliant and that stupid at the same time,” Niall pinched the bridge of his nose.
Her frowned deepened and she felt resentment for the notion of being stupid. “What are you—”
“He’s jealous.”
“Of what?”
“Of Jake,” Niall rolled his eyes as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
She snorted. “Why?” She blinked.
“Look at me,” Jake smiled proudly and gestured toward himself self-assuredly.
She eyed him briefly up and down. “What? You look like a tool who’s been abroad,” she remarked.
Jake shook his head, unaffected by her insult. “Think Harry might think I’m competition.”
“Why would he think that?”
“I mean, I did call you my wife.”
Niall laughed. “Oh God, poor Harry.”
Her face flamed. “I said we were friends!” She pouted. “Oh my God. Go back abroad,” she shoved him toward the door. “You are the worst.”
“Easy, love,” Jake continued to taunt, this time in Harry’s accent. “I can fix it,” he offered and headed back for Harry’s table quicker than she could catch him. But when they got there, his table was empty. A note scribbled on a napkin in Harry’s writing. Family emergency. Sorry :( Was looking forward to the brussels sprouts. You can have it on me. Next time. He left cash for the food and a tip anyway. Even though he never got his meal.
She pocketed the money and punched Jake in the arm one more time for good measure.
*
“You’re being ridiculous, you know that, right?” Sarah asked. “I know we aren’t best friends with her or anything, but she’s really nice. She wouldn’t lead you on like that.”
Harry knew that. Really, he did. But the emotion he was feeling wasn’t rational. Jake called her his wife and had his arm around her. He hugged her like he loved her. Harry was certain Jake loved her. Even in a way that wasn’t necessarily romantic, but it was...unfair. Unfair that Harry hadn’t told her he liked her. Nervous that he would make her uncomfortable by hitting on her while she was working.
“She wasn’t leading me on at all,” Harry murmured.
“All the more of a reason to not be ridiculous,” Sarah and Mitch had taken turns telling him it was childish to ignore her after all those months of chatting with her and entrenching himself as a regular and then to just not because he was jealous.
“Just because you’re jealous—”
“M’not jealous,” he grumbled.
“Right, because someone who’s not jealous would leave before he got his food because her friend called her his work wife. Someone who’s not jealous would suddenly stop being her regular after months.”
Like clockwork.
Harry was lying on the couch at Sarah and Mitch’s place face down trying to ignore the feeling of his heart breaking. No one said anything for several minutes. Sarah was working on cleaning the kitchen when Harry arrived, and Mitch suggested getting pizza. Harry wasn’t even hungry. Well, he was, but he wanted brussels sprouts.
“I might be jealous,” he admitted.
“Hallelujah,” Sarah sighed. “Talk to her.”
“Don’t y’think she’ll be grossed out that ‘ve basically been...stalking her because I like her?”
“Hello!” Sarah nearly shouted. “She likes you too!”
Harry was flooded with warmth at the idea. “She’s never said anything,” he mumbled.
“You’re her customer,” Mitch rolled his eyes. “As worried you’ve been about flirting with her while she’s working. She’s probably just as worried.”
It couldn’t have been that easy or simple.
Could it?
*
Harry was reading his schedule for the day on his computer. They were regular appointments with clients that he had in on a regular basis. He had just returned from the breakroom after an hour-long meeting and was seeing what was next or if he would have some downtime for paperwork in before his next client. The schedule looked normal. Except for the one meeting blocked off for ten-thirty. “Hey, Kate,” he called to his secretary outside his office. “Do y’know who scheduled—”
But Harry wasn’t paying attention to the time, and it was already ten-twenty-five and she walked into his office.
He dropped the pen he was holding above the calendar. His lips parted as she entered.
“Your ten-thirty is here!” Kate called.
Harry was going to fire her.
It had been two weeks since he had seen her. He wasn’t sure how it was possible, but she looked more beautiful. Or maybe it was because his office was light, mostly the sun coming through the windows and made her practically glow. Like she really was a sunflower. “Hi,” he murmured.
She wasn’t in her typical waitressing uniform. Her hair wasn’t pulled back. Harry didn’t know she could be more beautiful than when she was waitressing, but she was wearing regular clothes, a blue dress that fell to her knees and she seriously took on the beauty of a sunflower, it was astounding. “Hi,” she said.
“Y’can close the door,” he offered. “D’you want something t’drink?” He turned away from her and heard the door click shut. He went to the mini fridge on the back windowsill in the corner of his office holding a few small bottles of water. “Y’can sit,” he gestured to the chair. She did. He placed the bottle in front of her and sat across from her behind his desk. They were both silent for a moment. Harry took a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” he murmured.
“Harry, I have this absurd love for numbers. People have looked at me funny since I was young. It’s like this really complicated puzzle in my head and I just want to solve it. None of the little parts make sense together until they do. The answer is so beautiful when all those pieces click, and the flow of your logic comes down to this one singular answer and it’s just perfect.”
Harry wondered if there had ever been a poem written about numbers. Or if what she said was the very first one. Harry was pretty passionate about his work, and he was glad he made pretty good money. But he didn’t think he could ever chat about numbers the way she did.
“I feel that way when I’m around you. That all this logic just beautifully clicks into place. You make me feel normal for liking numbers. You’re extremely kind and you don’t...” she bit the inside of her lip and looked at her hands in her lap. “I don’t know why I feel this way but you...you stopped coming to eat, I don’t know why, and I don’t know what I did. I want to fix it because I’ve enjoyed getting to know you and I thought we were friends. Then we weren’t. I liked picking out which special of the week you would enjoy. Maybe I’m too young or something to be friends? I can’t help that. Maybe it was because Jake called me child—”
“Don’t,” he shook his head unable to hear the name.
“So it is about him,” she frowned. “I don’t...Harry, it’s not fair to keep me out of the loop about what you’re feeling! I can’t fix whatever I did—”
“You didn’t do anything.”
“Then why did you stop coming to eat?” her voice cracked.
Harry wanted to jump out a window for making her feel insecure and nervous. If she cried he was done for. He sighed exasperated with his own miscommunication. His cheeks felt warm as they always did when he embarrassed himself around her. “Y’not too young,” he looked at her, but it felt like he was looking right through her. Like he could see right into her brain and read every word that was waiting to exit her mouth. “You’re not childish,” he affirmed. “You are...” He shook his head. “You are perfect,” he assured her. “I didn’t want t’ask y’out while y’were working. S’kinda rude. Then Jake called you his wife—”
“I’m gonna kill him,” she whispered.
Harry ignored her comment (even though it made his heart feel the slightest bit better). “—I really like you. I think you’re way too smart for me. Way too kind. And y’work in a place surrounded with beautiful sunflowers and I can’t stop looking at you,” his heart felt heavy, the butterflies in his stomach were trying to escape. He used every ounce of his effort to read her unreadable expression as he watched her process everything he said.
“You think I’m beautiful?” She whispered.
He snorted. Of all the things she could focus on at a moment like that. “Love, y’have t’know you are.”
She shook her head. “I’m always sweaty and working when you see me.”
“Well seems y’had some proper prep time today,” he looked at her with a soft gaze that he hoped didn’t seem too excessive. “Y’look more beautiful.”
Her eyes seemed to melt with relief. “You were jealous?” She asked.
“Course I was,” he nodded easily. Like it made the most sense in the world.
“But... you never said anything.”
“I didn’t want t’make you uncomfortable,” he repeated. “I can’t imagine how many people hit on you while you’re working.”
She frowned. “Naturally not the person I want,” she grumbled cutely. Harry felt lighter. He smiled.
“Sorry,” he whispered.
She shifted awkwardly in her seat but smiled. “I uh...I came here to tell you off.”
He chuckled. “I would deserve that,” he agreed. “I... I have something for you,” he opened the top right drawer to his desk. “Saw it, and...it's not much, but it reminded me of you," his eyes were so gentle it made her heart skip a beat. He held out the little cardboard rectangle. It might not have "been much" but it was everything. A thin gold chain, a sunflower crystal pendant the lightest shade of yellow. "Love?" he asked quietly after a moment of her staring at the most thoughtful gift she had ever received. For another moment they just gazed at one another. Unmoving. Harry was wearing a button down, rolled up to his elbows. He looked at ease, finally. His cheeks flushed. His eyes so green and beautiful. She could barely breathe.
Then finally, Harry spoke again.
"Would you like t'go out with me?"
--
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You're ridiculous, you know | James Potter
Pairing: James Potter x fem!Reader
Word Count: 4.0k
Summary: Part one Masterlist
James sees you in a new light and wants to try to change the way you see him too, moment by moment. He is trying to win you over but understands that you're having a hard time believing that he's genuine about his feeling because of his sudden switch of focus from Lily to you (even though it gave him whiplash as well, but I guess he just accepted it faster.)
Notes: Best friend!James, he's less stupid, Lily is a sweet friend, fluff, pining, misunderstandings, (best) friends to lovers I guess, spelling mistakes probably because I typed this out on my phone.
______________________
With the hatch buried between you and James, you felt like you could finally properly breathe again. James had apologized again, of course and told you that he supported your new style.
Trying to balance your two friends groups however, did prove to be much more difficult than you thought. Neither of the two seemed very entertained by the thought of hanging out together as one group. Besides, James had become rather clingy as well, becoming his very own one man group to balance hanging out with.
"I now have abandonment fears," he jokingly defended when you raised your eyebrows at his arm, wrapped around your waist instead of your shoulder like usual while you two were walking down the open court yard.
"Right," you replied, seemingly not very impressed. You knew what he was trying to do, especially after your rejection. After all, save from Lily, he'd never actually been rejected. You assumed that this too, was a matter of pride. "You have nothing to prove you know," you told him and he merely hummed in reply.
"And anyway, you'll have to let me go now because my mum sent over some dresses for me. I'm planning on trying them on with the girls."
The grip on your waist tightened.
"No," he pleaded, "Don't leave me." He dramatically leaned his entire weight on you, dragging you down as well. Was he always this heavy? You incredulously thought.
"James, you'll make us both fall! Get up you're-"
"The earth is dragging me down. I can't help it, Love," he said in a playful, strained voice.
"Unless you want to spend the afternoon giving your opinion on dresses, I suggest you fight back against the earth, oh brave Gryffindor." You retorted, amusement clear in your voice.
James immediately straightened up. "Sure, I'll review your dresses," he happily replied.
‘Well’, you contemplated. You supposed it’s not as if you've never gotten dressed around eachother.”
Your mum had been very delighted at the news that she could go ahead and send over a dress through the mail. She went a tad bit overboard though, you thought as you looked at the heap of clothes on your bed.
James was sitting next to the said heap, waiting patiently for you to get changed in the bathroom. A pit formed in his stomach at the thought that he'd made things weird enough for you to want to get dressed in the bathroom. 'I mean, you've seen eachother naked before?' He thought. Not that he was aiming to see you naked of course.
His hands weaved through the beautiful clothes. He was sure they'd all look splendid on you. Would you go with him to the Yule Ball? His heart clenched. Probably not. You rejected a date with him to Hogsmeade. No way were you going to accept going to the ball together.
James stared out of the window, a lost feeling washing over him. How could he turn this around? Would you ever look at him that way?
The door opened and James' breath stopped, literally. It was simply perfect.
Mesmerizing, he thought.
'Merlin this was only the very first dress, how would his heart survive the dozen other dresses? You looked radiant. Like actually radiant. The dress made you glow with beauty and confidence. The color was what he could only describe as your color and made you look like bloody royalty.' He knew his opinion was biased, but it was still the truth, he thought.
And so his mind started racing. You were going to go to the ball, looking like that, with a date who was someone else. Jealousy flared up at the thought. He had to internally slap himself to shake him out of it.
You had taken his long silence as a negative opinion and quickly brought your arms to fold over your middle, covering yourself. "Not this one then?" You asked.
"No. I-I mean yes, sorry. I was distracted."
You felt slight disappointment at his words. Another sinking feeling in your stomach, but you reasoned with yourself that he just wasn’t used to doing this sort of activity with you. "You don't have to do this you know." You gently said and sat down next to him.
"Do you have a date to the ball?" He blurted out in response.
You were taken aback by the change of subject but shrugged. "There's been a few people who’ve asked, but I don't know. I've never talked to them before and it feels a little superficial that they only now would ask me out, just because they noticed I look and dress differently."
James could feel his heart plummet even lower if that was possible. Did you think that about him as well? You wouldn't be wrong of course. He'd only started to view you in a different light when you decided to go for a different style, and stopped only hanging out with the marauders after all. Guilt started to weigh his mind.
"Are you going to ask Lily out?" You tentatively asked.
"Of course," he automatically responded, without having processed the question. Your face fell a little. A confirmation, you thought. You were right. Maybe you'd have to accept one of the student' proposals for the Yule Ball after all.
James’ eyes widened and he quickly averted his eyes when you unzipped your dress right next to him. "The bathroom?!" He sqeaked out in panic.
You put on a grin. "Well, you look like you're bored and me taking my time in the bathroom will take too long. I guess I could just very quickly change here. Besides, you've seen me naked before."
James was somehow feeling more hurt at the prospect of you getting changed in front of him, than hiding in the bathroom. It meant that you really only saw him as a friend, he sighed.
You on the other hand, decided that you were hellbent on refusing to let your dynamic with James change because of unrequited feelings.
James was lying on his bed, wide awake. He couldn't sleep, mind wandering off to you, and he rolled around in frustration at himself and yelled into his pillow. Ashamed, he looked around if the he'daccidentally woken anyone up. He didn't.
He was restless. None of his subtle advances had apparently been noticed by you. And if they had, then you'd blatantly ignored them. James wasn't sure which option he liked better.
Tears of frustration and misery welled up in his eyes. He'd seen you get asked out by three different people today, and every time, his heart would stop, scared that you'd say yes.
The past few days, his eyes couldn't leave your figure as you went off to hang out with Lily, and he cursed himself for never having noticed you, too focused on Lily. He groaned and turned around again in his bed. "You're the perfect best friend," is what you had told him this morning when he had saved you from an awkward conversation with a seventh year Ravenclaw. His stomach had dropped.
'But you agreed to hang out with just him,' he kept telling himself in reassurance. Tomorrow was finally weekend and an off day which meant it was time for your not-date. At the thought, his heart lightened, and he managed to finally fall asleep.
You really weren't complaining at all. If anything you couldn't help your body from completely leaning into James who had once again wrapped his arms around your waist. Arms that were firmly holding on to you as if to not let you leave his side.
A week had passed since he asked you out on a date, and you and James were finally off to Hogsmeade together, your own heart both seering, as well as clenching at the thought that this was merely considered 'hanging out'.
Yes, you'd very much wanted it to be a date. Exactly like James had described it. Just the two of you, together on a date, which in a way was kind of what you were doing right now, even if you denied calling it that.
And if you weren't absolutely sure that you were setting yourself up for disappointment and heartbreak at the prospect of not working out because of his feelings for Lily, you would've definitely agreed with the biggest grin on your face.
But you were sure that that's what you'd be setting yourself up for. And having conflict avoiding tendencies had you make rational decisions such as then. Besides, the fact that he was going to ask Lily out to the Yule Ball confirmed that you had made the right decision.
'Could've been a date though', your mind seemed to whisper, and you grimaced. 'And then what,' you thought. 'Even if he settles for me, it would just be unfair for both of us. He never gets to be truly happy and I never get to be truly loved.' You scoffed.
"You okay, Love?" James shook you out of your train of thoughts, a concerned look on his face and he slowed his pace to a stop to properly look at you. His hands found their way to the sides of your face, his eyes searching yours.
You turned your head to the left and stuck out your tongue. He jerked away in surprise with a loud laugh. "That's foul!" He yelled. He was about to wipe his hand on his trousers when he stopped and then looked contemplatively from his hand to you and back.
Your grin was wiped off your face at the sight of the mischievous twinkle in his eyes and wasted no time to sprint off.
"You keep that hand to yourself Potter!" You shouted with a laugh.
"Absolutely not, you get back here!"
"This is a new dress, no way I'm letting you wipe your hand on it!" You quickly shot back and looked behind you to see him quickly catching up on you.
You watched with a face of disdain as he calmly wiped his hands with your sleeves, holding you in a headlock. "So unfair", you muttered.
James childishly stuck his tongue out and released you from his grasp.
It had you tumbling to the ground. "Hey!"
"Alright truce?" He asked and he stuck his hand out, both to seal the deal as well as help you up.
When you moved to shake his hand, he smirked. 'Oh so naive. You should know better.'
You noticed the trap far too late and weren't able to pull your hand back fast enough-
"James! Now that's foul!" You shrieked at his wet hand. Undoubtedly, because he'd spit in it moments before.
James was doubling over in laughter, and you took the opportunity to wipe your hands on his sweater. He let you.
“You’re ridiculous you know,” you shook your head.
“And you not at all,” he grinned. James wrapped his arms securely around your waist again, and you continued to head to Hogsmeade.
James looked at you from the bar counter. He was waiting for the drinks he ordered and admired you from afar. You were already sitting at a table in the corner for two and were munching on some snacks you had fished out of your bag, waving at him with a warm smile when you caught his gaze.
Sure, up until recently, he’d always seen you as the cool best friend that he could share everything with, tackle to the ground, tell gross jokes to, or get shirtless around when changing clothes. He was used to not at all treating you differently than Sirius, Remus or Peter, because in his eyes, you belonged to the same category.
But now, even though James also absolutely didn’t want your dynamic to change, he was conflicted because he finally saw you in a different light. He just had to try and make you see him in a different light as well.
The bartender gave him his drinks and he walked over to you with a grin. “Pick one,” he told you, still standing next to you and holding the mugs behind his back.
“Left,” you chose without hesitation. He put the mug in front of you and you looked suspiciously in the mug. At the sight of the green liquid you squinted your eyes at him. He put his own mug down and you leaned over the table to peer into it as well. Blue.
“Are you trying to poison us both?”
James snorted and sat down in front of you, “You got me.”
You kicked his leg under the table and he pretended to be in excruciating pain. “You wound me, Love,” He groaned exaggeratedly, all the way slouched down his chair and gripping his leg to sell his point.
“Want me to kiss it better?”, you teased and then immediately awkwardly paused. See this would’ve been a normal thing to say if you said this a month ago, but now it just made things weird. James however was grinning from ear to ear, absolutely soaking in the thought and cheekily replied, “Oh, darling, you must.”
‘Alright cheeky bastard’, you thought. Shaking your head with a chuckle, you moved your chair back and ducked under the table. James' eyes widened in shock, especially when you grabbed his leg.
“Drinking all by yourself?” Frank’s voice had both of you freeze up.
You moved to get up from your crouched position, planning on using a fallen hair tie as an excuse when James blurted out a different excuse. “No, just waiting for Y/N, she went to the bathroom.” You groaned and hit your head repeatedly against James’ knee.
Great, now it would be weird if you just crawled out from under the table.
“Y/N? I was actually looking for her, I mean we’re partners for potions class. You know what, I’ll just wait with you then.”
‘No!” James said, a little too loud, before he could help himself. He cleared his throat. “I mean uh,” James leaned in towards Frank and quietly, as if he was telling a secret, gleefully added, “We’re actually on a date.”
You playfully slapped his leg in a scolding manner.
Frank immediately seemed to get it and wished him good luck before leaving the table.
You scrambled out quickly and when your eyes met, you both burst out in laughter.
Despite your fear that dynamics would change and your resolve that you wouldn't allow it, you didn't mind the change so much if this was how it was going to be from now on, you thought to yourself. James had dramatically thrown himself half on top of you, head buried right under your breasts.
"Rough Quidditch practice", he'd mumbled before collapsing and absolutely melting like snow for the sun into you when you weaved your fingers through his curly locks, the other hand rubbing at the nape of his neck.
When you had tried to pull your hands away to retrieve your book from the bag next to you to pass the time while James seemed passed out, James had whined in protest, grabbing your hands and placing them back on his head.
"Prongs," you tried after a long time but received no answer. you lifted your hands from his head again and finally got a grumbled "What."
"Supper,' you softly spoke.
"Five more minutes, please?"
As if you could deny that request. After another few 'five more minutes' you finally gently pushed him off, both of you sitting up. He looked around, dazed, his eyes drooping and hair messy.
You entered the great hall with James trailing behind you, holding your hand. Peter spotted you and waved you over. James squished himself between Sirius and you, ignoring the other spot front of you that the marauders had saved for him.
"Blimey Y/N, what have you done with Prongs?!" Sirius asked, a horriefied expression adorning his face when James lazily rested his face in your neck. You laughed at his antics and shrugged, getting complaints from James at your movements.
Remus handed you two plates of food. "We saved these for you two."
"Thanks Moony," you gratefully accepted them and poked James with a fork. "Eat, you big baby," you said and pushed the fork in his hand. James internally groaned. But he was so comfortable like this. Why couldn't he just stay like this forever? He reluctantly sat up straight and started eating. He was hungry after all.
"Hey Potter, mind if we steal Y/N for a second?"
"Go away McKinnon," he was quick to respond and stuck out his tongue pettily. "She stays with me, you already had her the entire day."
You amusedly watched them banter. "I think you'll find that I will choose myself where I go, Prongs." And got up from your seat, moving down the long table to sit next to Lily.
"So what the hell was that Prongs?" Sirius inquired as soon as you were out of hearing range. Peter and Remus curiously looked at him.
"Oh, did I forget to tell you guys that I fancy Y/N?"
"Yeah that too, even if it was absolutely obvious," Peter shrugged.
Remus laughed at James' gaping expression. "What Padfoot meant was are you guys like a thing now? Like did we miss something? I thought you said she kinda rejected a date with you?"
James sighed dejectedly. "Yeah, she did." He straightened up again. But I'm working on it though."
Lily nudged you. "So I don't know if I should thank you or pity you."
"Huh?"
"I mean, thank you for getting James to stop pursuing me, but I'm sorry you have to deal with him now," she laughed.
Marlene wiggled her eyebrows at you. "Unless you don't mind having to deal with him of course," she smirked. "You looked pretty comfy," she added.
Alice nodded her head in agreement. "Frank told me you two went on a date last week apparently."
Your friends gasped dramatically and you were quick to deny it. "No, James just said that so Frank would leave us alone," you said and swatted Dorcas when she suggestively wiggled her eyebrows at you. "Ugh, you guys, be nice to me," you complained while laughing. "We're just friends hanging out, besides he still likes you Lils, look he's still staring at you," you said that last part with a sigh.
Lily raised her eyebrows. "Not at me, he's not." She nudged you again. "Look," she urged you.
You turned your head to look at James and your eyes met. He couldn't help but wink and felt very victorious when you looked away flusteredly, a big smile on your face.
'Could it be?'
Over the course of the next few weeks, James and you had gotten a lot closer. By now, you and James walked through the hallways, his hand always touching you somehow, whether he was holding yours, had his arm slung around your shoulders, waist, or lower back.
You also found yourself hanging around the boys dormitory alone with James more often than ever before. You were laying horizontally across his bed, your head hanging off the side of the bed. James went to the bathroom and you were passing the time.
You kept sliding forward bit by bit and when you were hanging low enough to look under James' bed, a brilliant plan to jumpscare him popped up in your brain. Perfect. You quickly moved to hide under his bed. Your hands ready to grab his ankles when he returned.
The door opened and you held your breath in anticipation. You peeked from underneath the drapes, covering your body and saw him look around surprisedly before a mischievous grin appeared on his face.
He called out your name to be certain and when you didn't respond, he pumped his fist excitedly and hurried to hide inside the wardrobe on the other side of the room, undoubtedly having the same idea as you and you couldn't suppress your laugh anymore. You rolled out from under the bed grinning like an idiot.
James joined you on the floor, although he did seem a little bit bummed out that he hadn't been able to prank you. "I guess genius recognizes genius," he admitted with a laugh.
"I have to go to the library to study," you bit your lip while you said it. Disappointed at the thought of breaking the peace.
James turned his head and looked over at you. You were so close. For a moment, he closed his eyes, relishing in the moment of having you within arms reach like that.
When he reopened his eyes, they flickered over your face and rested a little longer on your lips. It wouldn't take more than him leaning in to easily capture your lips and it took everything in him not to. It almost pained him literally. You turned your head towards James due to the lack of response, checking if everything was alright and if he had heard you when you said you needed to go.
"You're mesmerizing," he whispered softly, the words always on the back of his mind since he saw you in the first dress. You chuckled at that. "Using big words now, huh," you whispered back teasingly, a fond expression on your face.
"No, really."
Those two words left you speechless in surprise. You don't know what it was. Perhaps the sincerity on his face or in his tone. Perhaps the way he emphasized that he really meant it. Or maybe even the way he was looking at you right then.
Whatever it was, it made you throw your reservations and resolve straight out of the window.
Rational decisions were the last thing on your mind when your eyes locked with James' and then you were both leaning in, meeting each other halfway in a soft, fleeting kiss.
"I think you're mesmerizing as well," You murmured against his lips and you could feel them curl up in a smile.
"You're such an arsehole," you laughed, slapping his ice cold hands away. You ended up not going to the library to study. After all, who needs studying anyway? Instead you and James had curled up against each other on his bed, entangled together and James decided to slide his freezing hands under your shirt, resting on your stomach.
"No, I'm mesmerizing," he huffed and attempted to warm his hands again.
"Did you even wash your hands when you returned from the bathroom?"
There was a long pause and you stared up at him incredulously. "James Potter! You are disgusting," you exclaimed.
“Oh don’t tell me you’ve never forgotten to wash your hands after going to the toilet!”
“Yeah, but I don’t have to hold the- the thing.”
James laughed loudly.
“You suck,” you huffed.
He held his hands up in mock surrender. "I can't be that bad, I won you over in less than a month," he wore a triumphant smile on his face and you wanted nothing more than to smack it off. You didn't of course, and instead buried your face in his neck in embarrassment while grumbling about arrogance. You two hadn't really talked about the kiss that happened 10 minutes prior.
Absolutely refusing to let you pull back mentally and physically, James had been quick to mention how uncomfortable your position on the floor really was, and he proposed to lay down on his bed instead where he changed the topic while still getting comfortable with you. It was his way of letting you know that he wasn't trying to skim over the fact that you kissed or ignore the fact that it happened, but rather that he wanted to ease the tension by doing so.
You were relieved and thankful for him, knowing that that tension would have absolutely made things too awkward for you, and that you would've definitely fled from the room in denial.
"I think I fancy you, James," you eventually quietly admitted to him, your voice muffled as your face was still hidden away.
His grip on you tightened and he pulled you even closer, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Yeah?" he breathed out, his heart soaring.
"Yeah."
"I fancy you too, Love." And with that you tilted your head up far enough to place your lips in a firm kiss right under his jaw.
There was another comfortable silence and then, "So, how about a proper date. You and me, us, together." He quickly clarified the last part.
You laughed out loud. "Yes please, Hogsmeade?"
"Actually, I was thinking maybe the Yule Ball."
#james potter x fem!reader#james potter x reader#james potter imagine#james potter x you#james potter x y/n#james potter#james potter fanfic#james potter fic#james potter fluff#james potter angst#jmarauders era#marauders#marauders fanfic
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Hi sweetie 🍓🌹🌹 I hope you have a nice day/night 💕 Can you add this to Luna's YouTube series? 🍓. It would be fun to read. (When Mingyu gets jealous of Jeonghan because of Luna and vice versa) 🌿 And thanks in advance I really appreciate your efforts ♥️
ʚིᵋ ⋆ JEALOUSY NEVER LOOKED THIS GOOD: INSIDE THE JEONGHAN-LUNA-MINGYU TRIANGLE ࣪ ! ˓ ౨ৎ ࣪˖ ─── now playing…
synopsis: A glimpse inside the most famous love triangle in k-pop history, most specifically the jealousy between Jeonghan and Mingyu over Luna who couldn't care less.
thank you for such kind words!! i apologize if this took so long and thank you for being patient. i hope you enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it 🤍 (also, these fan made youtube videos might be my favorite ones to write… so request more!!)
╰ ౨ৎ LUNA-VERSE MASTERLIST ╰ ౨ৎ youtube compilations
[added captions are in brackets] ღ
bold dialogues are spoken in english ღ
indented italics are additional voice overs ღ
Here we go!
Buckle up, cause this is going to be a crazy ride.
Welcome back to another installment of “I want to be Bae Jiyeon 101” where we embark on a journey of self discovery of how blessed this woman is.
This videos is gonna focus on THE love triangle. Most specifically Mingyu and Jeonghan's jealous moments and Luna being clueless the entire time.
Enough chit chat… let’s begin… in the beginning… the video that started it all…
GOING SEVENTEEN EP 8: INSOMNIA ZERO #1
The camera panned over the dimly lit room, capturing the cozy, playful atmosphere of ‘Going Seventeen's Insomnia Zero’ set. The members sat on the mat, huddled together, all eyes fixed on the mattress where Luna lay.
[look how pretty she is]
[Sleeping Beauty fr fr]
It was round one, and the challenge was simple: keep your heart rate steady while the rest of the members tried their best to break it. With S.Coups absent due to his hiatus, the group had a mix of playful competitiveness and chaos, eager to see who could withstand the pressure and be able to go home early.
Luna, being ninth in their official order, was up next. She settled onto the mattress, her expression calm as she closed her eyes. The heart monitor pulsed softly, a subtle rhythm that would betray her slightest change in composure. The room’s lights dimmed further, casting a soft glow that highlighted the anticipation in the air.
Jeonghan, Joshua, Jun, Hoshi, Wonwoo, Woozi, and Minghao had already taken their turns, some more successful than others. Now, it was Luna’s moment to shine— or falter. The members crowded together on her right side, their eyes gleaming with mischief.
[I’m not gonna lie… lowkey scared to be their friend]
[like the dirt they must have on each other… chile]
They had one job: to get her heart rate to spike, and they were going to give it their all. The silence stretched for a beat before Jeonghan, ever the instigator, leaned forward with a grin. “Remember when Luna almost tripped on stage during our debut showcase? She blamed it on the stage lights.”
[A FUCKING MENACE]
[leave my baby alone 🥺]
Joshua chuckled, adding, “Yeah, and the way she tried to play it off like nothing happened? Amazing.” Luna’s lips twitched slightly, but she remained composed, her breathing steady.
Hoshi, not one to be outdone, chimed in. “Or that time during our trainee days when she tried to sneak extra snacks into the dorms? She thought no one noticed, but we all saw her stash in the fridge.”
[she’s adorable pls]
“She tried to bribe us with those snacks so we wouldn’t tell on her?” Seungkwan added, his voice tinged with laughter.
Woozi, with a rare smirk, joined in, “And the way she panicked when the trainers started asking why we were all so energetic during practice?”
“She’s shameless!” Seungkwan pointed at Luna. “Till this day, nobody knew she was sneaking food.”
[MY CLIENT IS NOT GUILTY, YOUR HONOR!]
The members burst into quiet laughter, the sound filling the room as they continued their playful banter. Luna, despite the barrage of teases and memories, remained still, her heart rate holding steady.
Dokyeom leaned in closer, his voice soft but clear, “Do you remember that one time when we were practicing late, and noona fell asleep on the practice room floor? We all left her there because we didn’t want to wake her up.”
[What is wrong with them honestly?]
[THEY LEGIT LEFT HER]
[I would have never spoke to them for a month]
Jeonghan’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he added, “She was so embarrassed the next morning, that she couldn’t look any of us in the eye for days.”
Luna’s calm facade wavered ever so slightly, the corner of her mouth twitching as if she was fighting back a smile.
[SHE’S SO FUCKING CUTE HELP]
The members exchanged glances, sensing they were close to breaking her. Hoshi leaned over, his voice a mock whisper, “Do you think she’s actually asleep right now? Or is she just pretending just like the time she didn’t want to practice?”
[BAHAHAHAHHAAHA]
[Thats the dance leader in him]
There was a pause, a collective breath held, as they waited for any sign that they had finally cracked her resolve. But Luna, ever composed, maintained her steady breathing, refusing to let them win so easily.
[Luna really said: 😴]
Jeonghan, seeing the challenge in her unwavering calm, leaned in closer, his voice low and teasing. “I broke your Wall-E Lego.”
[He wants to die I’m afraid]
The members laughed at his confession, knowing how precious Luna’s Legos are to her.
“I dropped it,” Jeonghan added before continuing, “His eye popped off.”
“There has to be missing pieces for sure.” Wonwoo added, smirking.
[I’D GO FERAL]
[they love to tease her it’s actually insane]
The room fell silent, the members watching with bated breath as they waited for her reaction. But Luna remained still, her heart rate steady, her expression serene.
[She’s iconic]
[I actually thought she was sleeping at first when I watched this]
The room was filled with a mix of disappointment and playful frustration as the members realized they are failing to faze Luna.
Seungkwan, ever the expressive one, was the first to voice their collective thoughts. “Seriously, how is she so thick-skinned?” he groaned, throwing his hands up in mock exasperation. “It’s like nothing gets to her!”
[IT’S A SKILL]
[she’s just THAT bitch]
Joshua nodded in agreement, his arms crossed as he leaned back. “It’s going to be impossible to beat her. She doesn’t even flinch.”
“It goes in ear and out the other.”
“Maybe she’s actually sleeping.”
“No, she smiled earlier.”
[THE FACT THAT THEY WERE MOSTLY COMPLAINING IS HILARIOUS TO ME]
“Ya, Jiyeon-ah,” Jeonghan said, using her real name with a teasing lilt. “Are you even human? Cause yo–”
[istg he had a pick-up line after that!]
[YOU COULD VISIBLY SEE HIM STOP THE WORDS FROM SPILLING OUT HIS GODDAMN MOUTH]
[don’t be a lady part Jeonghan fucking say it!]
[that would have gotten her heart rate going 😪]
The playful banter continued, the members tossing ideas back and forth on how to get through Luna’s seemingly impenetrable exterior. It was all in good fun, a testament to how well they knew each other after years of working and living together.
Then, amid the lively chatter, Mingyu, who had been quietly observing, suddenly spoke up. His tone was light, but there was a hint of something more serious beneath it as he called out, “Noona, do you know I have a crush on you?”
[WHEN I TELL YOU I FELL OF MY DAMN BED WHEN I FIRST WATCHED THIS… I FELL FACE FIRST]
[Haters would say he was joking, his own members would say he was joking, Luna herself might say he was joking but I know damn well…]
[KIM MINGYU WAS SERIOUS]
[LOOK AT HIS FACEEEEE]
[LOOK. AT. IT.]
[HE WAS DEAD SERIOUS I’M BEING FOR REAL RIGHT NOW?!!]
[I AM THE BIGGEST JEONGNA SHIPPER BUT MINGNA IS A CLOSE SECONNNNNDDD]
The words hung in the air for a moment, the room falling into an abrupt silence.
[LOOK]
[LOOK]
[LOOK AT HOW SHOCKED THEY ALL FUCKING LOOKED]
[AINT NO MOTHERFUCKING WAY]
Luna’s heart rate monitor pulsed noticeably faster, betraying the calm demeanor she had maintained so well. Her fists clenched slightly, and though she quickly composed herself, the spike in her heart rate had already given her away.
The other members immediately reacted, their voices rising in a chorus of playful “ooohs” and shrieks. They leaned back, clapping and laughing as if they were in on a well-played joke, but there was an underlying current of knowing in their eyes.
[LOOK AT HOW THEY WERE ALL EXCHANGING LOOKS]
[AM I INSANE?!? TELL ME I CAN’T BE THE ONLY ONE SEEING THIS!?]
They knew Mingyu for years, they all grew up and trained together. This wasn’t just a joke, but a carefully veiled truth that they all understood, yet chose to play off lightly.
“Ya, Mingyu-ya!” Seungkwan shouted, pointing at him with a wide grin. “You really went there, huh?”
“That’s one way to get her heart rate up!” Hoshi added, his laughter contagious as he nudged Minghao.
[They all acting sus as fuck]
Luna, despite the playful atmosphere, could feel the heat rising to her cheeks. She knew Mingyu well enough to sense the sincerity behind his words, but this wasn’t the time or place to delve into it. They had to keep it light, for the sake of the fans watching and to avoid any unnecessary rumors.
[JIYEON IS FIGHTING DEMONS RN]
[QUEEN SHIT THO, SHE DID NOT FLINCH AT ALL]
The other members continued to laugh and tease, creating a buffer of lightheartedness that allowed the moment to pass without it becoming too serious. But beneath the surface, there was an unspoken understanding between them all— especially between Luna and Mingyu. They played it off well, but the truth had slipped through, even if just for a moment.
As the laughter and playful teasing from the group began to die down, a subtle shift in the atmosphere could be felt, though it went unnoticed by most.
[GUYS I’M BEING SO FR RIGHT NOW. THERE WAS SOMETHING THERE!]
[the awkward tension!!! It was very much there!!]
[Now let us visit exhibit A: Jealous Yoon Jeonghan]
Amid the chaos of Mingyu’s sudden “confession” and Luna’s reaction, Jeonghan sat quietly in his place, his usual playful demeanor subdued. His eyes were trained on Mingyu, a gaze that held a depth of thought that contrasted with the lightheartedness of the moment.
[ZOOM IN ON FUCKING JEONGHAN RN]
[I– AM UNWELL]
[bro– istg this is not normal behavior]
[the fact that some people just dismiss this as Jeonghan’s normal tired self… he’s pissed bro]
Jeonghan wasn’t one to miss details, and he had seen the way Mingyu’s expression had flickered with something more than just playful banter when he had uttered those words to Luna. The easy-going grin, the way his eyes had softened just a fraction—Jeonghan knew Mingyu well enough to recognize when there was truth hidden beneath a joke.
The others were still caught up in the aftermath of the confession, their voices a mix of lingering laughter and exaggerated exclamations. Seungkwan was playfully pretending to faint in the background, clutching his chest dramatically, while Hoshi was nudging and whispering to Dino as if the two were plotting the next way to get Luna’s heart rate to spike even further.
But Jeonghan was silent, his mind replaying the moment in his head. Mingyu’s words had caught everyone off guard, but none more so than him.
[bro is pouting hard rn]
[JEONGHAN GET TF UP]
Jeonghan’s gaze shifted, landing on Luna, who was still trying to shake off the surprise of the moment. She still had her eyes closed accompanied by a subtle smile, playing along with the rest, but there was a subtle tension in the way her shoulders were held, a slight stiffness that hinted at the unexpectedness of Mingyu’s words.
[GOOD GOD. LOOK AT HIM STARING AT HER LIKE THAT]
[Jiyeon I love you girl but move it’s my turn]
Luna, meanwhile, had finally managed to get her heart rate back under control, though the earlier spike had been significant enough to cause some lingering amusement among the members.
The lights brightened slightly, signaling the end of her three minutes. The members groaned in mock defeat, their attempts to fluster her unsuccessful. Luna opened her eyes, a small, triumphant smile playing on her lips as she sat up, meeting their disappointed gazes with a knowing look.
[look how disappointed they are]
[SHE IS THAT BITCH]
“Ya!, Kim Mingyu,” Luna finally said, her voice steady but with a playful edge. “Stop lying! People will get the wrong idea.”
[gurl you know damn well…]
[what ever makes you sleep at night i guess]
She cast a quick glance at Jeonghan, catching his eye for a split second before she looked away. Jeonghan met her gaze, his expression unreadable.
[GOOD LORD HOW AWKWARD]
[Mingyu looking at Luna, Luna looking at Jeonghan, Jeonghan looking at Luna]
[and that ladies and gentlemen is how the triangle was formed]
190927 FANSIGN
The fan sign event was in full swing, the room alive with the buzzing excitement of fans and the playful banter of SEVENTEEN. The line of fans snaked around the venue, each one eagerly waiting their turn to interact with the members.
After fixing her hair, Luna grabbed the mic in front of her, ready to greet the fans and ask them some questions.
[Sidenote: LOOK HOW HOT SHE LOOKS 😫]
[she’s unreal, no wonder she’s in a love triangle]
Luna spoke into her microphone, but no sound came out. Frowning slightly, she tried again, but the mic stubbornly remained silent. The fans closest to the stage noticed the mishap and giggled, anticipating what would happen next.
Before Luna could react, Jeonghan and Mingyu, seated on either side of her, simultaneously lifted their mics towards her. The movement was so synchronized it was almost as if they had rehearsed it. The fans erupted into screams, the sound filling the room and making the air vibrate with excitement.
[*Googles “how to be Bae Jiyeon”*]
[IT’S HOW FAST THEY REACTED TOO]
Luna looked to her left, where Jeonghan held his mic out with a calm, knowing smile on his face. She then glanced to her right, where Mingyu, with his warm, boyish grin, was holding out his mic just as eagerly. It was clear neither of them was backing down, both were determined to be the one to help her out.
[They were like: choose, miss thing]
A smile tugged at the corners of Luna's lips as she realized the predicament she was in. Choosing one mic over the other would only fuel the playful rivalry between Jeonghan and Mingyu, and she had no desire to fan those flames, especially not in front of a room full of screaming fans who were already speculating.
[She has all the power]
[do you see that smirk?! she is enjoying this way too damn much]
[I mean— I guess I would too if I were her]
With a playful shrug, Luna decided to use both mics. She leaned forward slightly and spoke into Jeonghan's mic first. "Hello, everyone!" Her voice echoed through the venue, amplified by both mics. The fans went wild, their screams of excitement growing louder.
Luna then shifted slightly to speak into Mingyu's mic, "How are you all doing today?" The sound of her voice blended perfectly as if she had been given a microphone on each side just for this moment.
Jeonghan and Mingyu didn't drop their mics, both holding them steady as Luna continued. She adjusted her position, addressing the fans directly, her voice clear and bright, carried effortlessly by both microphones.
[They both don’t mind being mic stands either]
[OH LAWD… IS THIS TOO MUCH TO ASK?!]
"Did you guys eat before coming here? What did you guys have for lunch today?" Luna asked casually, her gaze scanning the crowd.
The fans responded in a chorus of different answers, their excitement palpable as they tried to shout over one another to be heard.
"Bibimbap!"
"Ramen!"
"Chicken!"
Luna laughed, a sound that made the fans cheer even louder. "Oh, that sounds delicious! Did you save some for us?" She teased, earning another wave of enthusiastic responses.
[She’s such a flirt. I love her.]
"Yes!"
"No!"
"We'll buy you some!"
Luna's eyes sparkled with amusement as she leaned a little closer to Jeonghan's mic, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. "So, which one of you brought me snacks?"
[SHE IS FLIRTING FOR SNACKS, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!!!]
The fans erupted into laughter, with some frantically waving bags of snacks in the air, trying to catch her attention.
Luna chuckled and then turned slightly to speak into Mingyu's mic, her expression still playful as she cooed. "You guys are the best! Seriously, how did I get so lucky to have fans like you?"
[GURL– WE ARE LUCKY]
The fans collectively swooned, their cheers a mixture of adoration and admiration.
As Luna wrapped up her conversation with the fans, she finally let out a small laugh. "Thank you, Hannie oppa, Gyu-gyu," she said, turning to each of them with a grateful smile. "I think I’m all done now."
Only then did Jeonghan and Mingyu lower their mics, both of them mirroring each other’s actions with a blend of reluctance and amusement.
[WALK EM LIKE A DOG, BITCH! WALK EM LIKE A DOG]
[Jeonghan and Mingyu: “Say less.”]
The fans, ever attentive, noticed the slightly playful competitive looks they gave each other in their eyes as they watched Luna, but she seemed blissfully unaware, too busy enjoying the moment with her fans.
[She’s either clueless or she knows and is enjoying it]
[I am betting for the latter 🤭]
The event continued, but that moment became one of the highlights of the day, a small but telling interaction that fans would replay over and over, analyzing every glance, every smile, and every word exchanged between the three.
'BE THE SUN' WORLD TOUR IN SEOUL DAY 2: 220626
The energy in the ‘Gocheok Sky Dome’ was electric, the air thick with the joyous screams of thousands of CARATs who had gathered to witness SEVENTEEN's 'Be The Sun' world tour, Day 2 in Seoul. The night had been a whirlwind of emotions, with the group delivering powerful performances, heartwarming speeches, and a connection with their fans that was almost tangible.
[Guys, ‘Be The Sun’ has a special place in my heart]
[My first ever concert 🥹]
Now, during their never-ending ‘VERY NICE’, the members were running around the stage, singing, jumping, and interacting with the fans in a carefree, playful manner. The music was lively and blaring, fueling the excitement in the stadium.
[I swear this song gives them ptsd]
Luna, her energy as radiant as ever, was at the edge of the stage, her bright smile never fading as she waved to the fans in the pit.
[This was one of my favorite encore outfits of hers]
She leaned over slightly, reaching out to touch the hands of those who were closest, unaware of the commotion that was starting behind her. The fans in the pit, their eyes widening, began to signal her frantically, pointing and mouthing words she couldn’t quite catch over the deafening noise.
[Not them warning her 🤣]
[Jiyeon is confused as fuck]
Behind her, Mingyu was creeping up with a mischievous grin, one finger pressed to his lips to silence the fans who were trying to warn Luna. In his other hand, he held an open water bottle, the clear liquid sloshing dangerously close to the rim as he tiptoed closer.
[HE IS SO HOT]
[AND SO ANNOYING]
The fans who noticed his approach were caught between excitement and anxiety, torn between letting Luna in on the prank or watching the chaos unfold.
Finally, Mingyu was right behind her. In one swift move, he wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her back against him. Luna let out a surprised shriek, instinctively knowing what was about to happen. She tried to twist away, but Mingyu held her firmly, his grin widening as he lifted the water bottle above their heads.
[HAND PLACEMENT! HAND PLACEMENT!]
[Gyu’s large arms around Jiyeon’s tiny waist 🥵]
“Ya!” Luna exclaimed, her voice tinged with laughter as she realized there was no escape With no other option, she turned towards Mingyu, burying her face in his chest to avoid the inevitable drenching.
[She just accepted defeat]
[I mean… she has her face shoved in Mingyu’s chest… she won]
Mingyu, laughing, let the water cascade down over them, soaking them both.
[HOT. HOT. HOT.]
The fans erupted into cheers and laughter, loving every moment of the playful interaction between the two. When the water finally stopped, Luna was drenched, her hair sticking to her face, and her stage outfit clinging to her form.
[SHE IS SO HOT… have I said that already?]
She pulled away from Mingyu just enough to playfully punch him in the chest, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “You’re the worst,” she teased, though her tone was light, full of affection.
Mingyu laughed, his deep voice barely audible over the roaring crowd. “You’re just mad because I got you first.”
Luna rolled her eyes, but her smile didn’t waver. She grabbed the nearly empty water bottle from his hand and emptied the remaining content in Mingyu's face before she took off running, still dripping, in the opposite direction, her laughter trailing behind her.
[MISS MAAM DIPPED]
Mingyu watched her go, shaking his head in mock defeat, but the playful pout on his face revealed his amusement.
Unbeknownst to them, Jeonghan had been watching the entire scene unfold. He was standing a few meters away, his right arm in a red decorated cast due to his recent elbow injury. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes followed Luna as she ran, a soft sigh escaping his lips.
[Jeonghan acting like he wasn’t watching]
[Pls, sir you got caught in different angles]
As Luna slowed down, she noticed Jeonghan standing nearby, and her smile softened when she saw him. He motioned for her to come over with a single nod, and she obliged, still catching her breath from the impromptu water fight.
[THAT NOD 🥵]
[he… is so fine. like, the aura, the charm, the confidence]
[How can a single nod be so fucking attractive?!]
Jeonghan met her halfway, his gaze briefly flickering towards Mingyu, who was still lingering nearby, before settling on Luna. Despite his injury, he gently lifted the sleeve of his good arm and began wiping the water from her face. The soft fabric of his sleeve carefully absorbed the droplets, his touch as delicate as ever.
[I AM UNWELL RN]
[I am just speechless]
“You’re a mess,” Jeonghan said, his tone a mix of fondness and exasperation. He continued to wipe her face, his movements slow and deliberate.
Luna chuckled softly, her gaze meeting his. “Blame that overgrown child over there,” she said, nodding towards Mingyu, who was now watching them with a mock pout, clearly feeling left out.
Jeonghan shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. He used his fingers to gently push the wet strands of hair away from her face, his touch lingering just a moment longer than necessary.
[They are actually insane]
[In front of the entire stadium bitch]
“You should have seen it coming,” he teased, though there was a warmth in his eyes that softened the playful reprimand.
Luna hummed in response, her gaze flicking to Mingyu and then back to Jeonghan. “You’re probably right. I should have.”
Jeonghan chuckled, not bothering to move away until he finished his task. The fans, who had been watching the entire interaction, were going wild, capturing every moment on their phones, their cheers growing louder by the second.
[He was fixing his hair so gently and seriously 🥹]
[They are not okay for my mental health]
Finally, Jeonghan stepped back, satisfied with his work. “There. All better.”
“Thanks, Hannie oppa,” Luna said softly, giving him a grateful smile. She then turned back to Mingyu, raising a filled water bottle in her hand. “Where is he? Kim Mingyu…”
Mingyu’s eyes widened in mock horror, and before Luna could take another step toward him, he took off running, his laughter echoing across the stage as the encore continued, leaving the fans with yet another unforgettable moment
[He deserves it]
[I am actually surprise how none of them tripped with how much water they threw around]
LUNA'S LIVE 190518
The screen lit up with the familiar sight of Luna sitting cross-legged on her hotel bed, her hair slightly damp from the shower she had just taken after their concert in Japan. The room was cozy, the soft glow from a bedside lamp casting a warm light over her as she adjusted the camera for her Weverse Live. She was dressed casually in an oversized hoodie, the fabric swallowing her petite frame, and she was completely barefaced, giving her a relaxed, natural appearance.
[She is simply unreal]
[A literal angel amongst us]
"Hello, my beautiful CARATs!" Luna greeted, waving at the camera with a bright smile. The comments began to flood in almost immediately, the fans clearly excited to see her.
[HELLO, MY LOVE 🥹💕]
She read a few aloud, laughing at their enthusiasm. "'Did you enjoy the concert?' Yes I did. We had so much fun tonight Japan is always so welcoming, and your energy was amazing."
As she continued to chat with the fans, answering questions about the concert and how the members were doing, Luna suddenly sighed dramatically, resting her chin in her hand. "You know," she began, her tone playful, "it's kind of lonely doing this live alone. I miss having someone here to talk to…"
[She’s talking to fans yet she misses her members 🥺]
[baby. she is a baby]
The comments section exploded, fans urging her to invite one of the members to join her. The suggestions varied wildly, with each fan rooting for their bias to appear on the screen.
"Oh? You want me to invite one of the members?" Luna's eyes sparkled with mischief as she considered the idea. "Who should I call? Let's see… Jeonghannie-oppa might be asleep already," she mused, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "You know how he is with his beauty sleep."
[The beauty sleep is working for sure]
[That man is beautiful]
She laughed at the flood of comments agreeing with her. "Hao, Woozi, and Wonwoo are sleeping for sure. The rest are probably eating dinner. Who should I invite? Hmm, Mingyu?… I bet he’s either eating or just finished eating but he's awake for sure. Should we give him a call?"
[YES PLEASE]
The fans reacted immediately, spamming the chat with enthusiastic approvals. Luna grinned as she picked up her phone and dialed Mingyu's number, switching to speaker mode so everyone could hear.
After a few rings, Mingyu's deep, groggy voice came through the speaker, causing the fans to go wild. "Lulu-ya?" he murmured, his voice thick with sleep.
[WOOF WOOF BARK BARK]
[I’m simply no more]
Luna's eyes widened in mock horror since she clearly woke him up. She then quickly cut him off before he could say anything that might embarrass them both. "You're on speaker, Gyu. I'm doing a live right now." She laughed, her tone teasing but affectionate.
[She didn’t want him saying shit]
[What does he normally say and how do they normally talk?!]
There was a brief pause on the other end as Mingyu processed what she said. "Ah, really? On live?" His voice perked up a bit, and the fans could hear the rustle of blankets as he presumably sat up. "Why didn’t you tell me sooner?"
[His voice 🫦]
Luna chuckled, the sound soft and melodic. "I’m telling you now! Come over to my room and join me, or the fans might riot."
[Accurate]
Mingyu’s reply was immediate. "I’m on my way."
[Anything for her… I am in my knees]
There was a beep as he ended the call, and Luna grinned at the camera, her excitement evident. "He’ll be here in a minute, guys," she informed the fans, her eyes twinkling with anticipation.
[If Kim Mingyu is headed to me I’d be that excited too]
True to his word, it wasn’t long before there was a knock on the door, and moments later, Mingyu appeared in the frame, his hair tousled and his eyes still a bit sleepy but filled with warmth.
[GOD DAMN THIS MAN IS FINE]
"Hello, CARATs!" Mingyu greeted the fans with his signature bright fanged smile as he settled on the bed beside Luna, the two of them huddling close to fit within the camera frame.
"Sorry if I look a little sleepy… someone woke me up from my nap," he teased, nudging Luna gently.
[stfu bet you were waiting for her to call, simp]
Luna giggled, shaking her head. "When Gyu-gyu sleep it’s like he's hibernating."
[GYU-GYU 🥺]
[I always love the pout on her lips when she calls him that]
The fans loved the banter, and the comments were flooded with hearts and playful teasing. As they continued the live, answering questions from the fans, many began to notice the way Mingyu’s gaze kept lingering on Luna. His eyes followed her every movement, his expression soft and almost protective.
[SOMEBODY SEDATE ME]
[I don’t know who I want to be ��]
[I know… MOVE, JIYEON IT IS MY TURN]
[she is living the dream. To be stared at by Mingyu like that]
The fans, ever observant, quickly filled the chat with comments about Mingyu’s intense stare. "Luna-unnie, Mingyu-oppa is looking at you like he’s in love!" one comment read, followed by a string of heart emojis.
[THANK YOU TO WHOEVER COMMENTED THAT]
Luna, catching sight of the comment, laughed nervously. "Aigoo, don’t say that! You’ll make Gyu embarrassed." She glanced at Mingyu, who just smiled, not denying anything but not confirming it either, which only made the fans go crazier.
[He doesn’t even bother say anything let alone defend himself]
Just as Luna was about to address another question, her phone started ringing, cutting through the conversation. She glanced at the screen and saw Jeonghan's name flashing. "Oh, hold on, guys," she said, answering the call but not putting it on speaker. "Oppa?"
[I am not kidding when I say I knew it was Jeonghan from just that alone]
Jeonghan's voice was a little muffled, but the fans could still hear the deep, groggy tone as he spoke. "Jiyeonie, what are you doing?"
Luna smiled softly, a hint of affection in her eyes. "I’m doing a live right now. Do you want to say hi to the fans?"
There was a brief pause before Jeonghan responded. "Sure, put me on speaker."
Luna switched to speaker mode, holding the phone up for the camera. "Jeonghannie oppa wants to say hi, everyone!"
[she’s so excited]
"CARATs, hello," Jeonghan greeted, his voice still thick with sleep, but the fans could hear the smile in his tone. His deep, raspy voice sent a wave of excitement through the chat, the comments section lighting up with greetings and heart emojis.
[LUNA IS INE LUCKY MOTHERFUCKER TO HEAR THEIR MORNING VOICES LIKE THAT]
As they exchanged a few pleasantries, Mingyu, who was still sitting beside Luna, answered a fan's question about the concert. "Yeah, the energy tonight was incredible," he said, his voice warm and genuine.
[Jealous Jeonghan in 3…2…1…]
Jeonghan, still on the phone, caught the sound of Mingyu’s voice. "Who’s that?"
[AHHHHHHHHHJENUEGEHNEYEBUDBSJ]
Luna blinked, glancing between the phone and Mingyu. "Oh, it’s Mingyu. I invited him to join me."
[I BET YOU ALL THAT I HAVE THAT JEONGHAN WAS POUTING]
There was a brief pause on Jeonghan's end before he hummed softly, the sound low and contemplative. "Why didn’t you invite me?"
[SIR–]
[look at her face… she knows]
Luna bit her lip, sensing a bit of teasing in his tone, but knowing Jeonghan, there was probably a hint of something more that the fans seemed to pick up.
“I didn’t want to wake you up, Hannie." She said.
"And it was okay for you to wake me?" Mingyu joked.
[you came running anyways babes]
"You can always leave." Luna sassed back calling out his bluff.
[Called him out 🤣]
Jeonghan hummed again, this time with a slight chuckle. "I’m awake now… I’ll come over too."
[He really said: “Luna alone with Mingyu?”🏃♂️💨]
The announcement caused another flurry of excited comments from the fans, many of them thrilled at the prospect of having both Jeonghan and Mingyu in the same live with Luna.
Luna laughed softly, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "Alright, oppa, come over. We’re just chatting with CARATs."
As they waited for Jeonghan to arrive, the live continued with Luna and Mingyu answering more fan questions, their banter easy and comfortable. Despite the playful atmosphere, the fans couldn’t help but notice the underlying tension, especially with the way Mingyu’s gaze would occasionally drift towards Luna, his expression softening as he watched her interact with the fans.
[MINGYU BABE… SNAP OUT OF IT]
[he is drooling💀]
[he isn’t even trying to hide it anymore]
[Kim Mingyu.exe has stopped working]
When Jeonghan finally arrived, dressed in a simple hoodie and sweatpants, his hair slightly tousled from sleep, the dynamic in the room shifted. He slid onto the bed beside Luna, his presence immediately felt. The three of them squeezed together to fit into the frame, and the fans went wild at the sight of the trio together.
[How can he be hot and cute at the same fucking time?]
"Hi," Jeonghan greeted the fans again, his voice now fully awake and filled with his usual charm.
[BABYYYYY HIIIIII]
The fans were quick to comment on the contrast between his earlier groggy tone and his current bright energy. As the live continued, the interaction between the three of them was light and playful, but the fans couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more simmering beneath the surface.
Whether it was the way Mingyu and Jeonghan seemed to subtly compete for Luna’s attention or the occasional shared glance between Luna and Jeonghan, the tension was palpable, leaving the fans on the edge of their seats, eager to see what would happen next.
[this live was just them trying to fight for her attention]
AIRPORT JEALOUSY
[And now I present to you this iconic airport clip]
[I would like to name this piece of art ‘The Jealous and the Protective’]
[Enjoy]
The airport was a flurry of activity as SEVENTEEN made their way through the bustling terminal. The members moved together as one, a unit that had been through countless travels, but this time there was an extra level of intensity.
Fans had gotten wind of their departure for the U.S., and now the airport was swarming with people eager to catch a glimpse of their idols. A barrier of bodyguards and security flanked them on all sides, creating a protective bubble as they navigated through the sea of fans.
[On a real note y’all really need to stop swarming them]
Cameras flashed incessantly, capturing every moment, every smile, every wave. The members, ever the professionals, bowed politely and waved to their fans, their faces calm and composed despite the chaos surrounding them.
The air buzzed with energy, screams of fans echoing off the walls, their voices blending into a high-pitched cacophony that only seemed to grow louder with each step the group took.
In the middle of it all was Luna, walking close to Mingyu, who was at her side like a protective shadow.
[shadow, my shadow, my shadow~]
They were in the midst of a conversation, their heads tilted slightly towards each other to hear over the noise. Luna's expression was relaxed, a small smile playing on her lips as she listened to whatever Mingyu was saying.
[IN FRONT OF EVERYONE]
Suddenly, the crowd surged forward, and Luna was caught off guard. The push was unintentional, a result of fans pressing forward for a better look, but it was enough to make her stumble. Her eyes widened in surprise, and she felt herself losing balance.
Before she could react, Mingyu’s hand shot out, his grip firm and reassuring as he caught her by the arm, pulling her closer to him. "Whoa, careful," he murmured, his voice low but clear over the din. His other hand instinctively went to her back, steadying her as they continued to walk.
[HAND PLACEMENT!!!]
The concern in his eyes was evident, his protective nature coming to the forefront. From his position ahead of them, Jeonghan witnessed the entire exchange. His pace faltered for a brief moment as he glanced back, his sharp eyes taking in the scene.
[ISTG BRO JEALOUS JEONGHAN IS JUST SO HOT]
The sight of Mingyu holding Luna so closely stirred something within him, a flash of emotion that flickered across his usually serene features. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but for those who knew him well, it was unmistakable— a mixture of jealousy and protectiveness simmering beneath the surface.
Jeonghan’s eyes narrowed slightly as they locked onto Mingyu’s hand on Luna’s arm. His gaze softened when it shifted to Luna, who was now securely in Mingyu's grasp, her expression still calm despite the near fall.
[🫠🫠🫠]
Without breaking stride, Jeonghan did something that only someone as effortlessly cool as him could pull off— he lifted his hand slightly and, without even glancing back, made a subtle 'come here' gesture with his fingers, a silent command meant only for Luna.
[HE IS SO HOT FOR THIS I SIMPLY CANNOT]
Luna didn’t hesitate for a second. It was as if she had been waiting for that very signal. Her eyes immediately caught the motion, and she reached out, her fingers slipping into Jeonghan’s hand as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
[no hesitation whatsoever which tells me this happens regularly]
Their fingers intertwined effortlessly, and with that, Jeonghan began guiding her forward, ensuring she was safe at the front of the group.
Mingyu, now trailing slightly behind, watched as Luna’s attention shifted to Jeonghan, their hands linked with an unspoken understanding. A pang of something unidentifiable passed through him, but he quickly masked it with a smile, maintaining his protective stance behind Luna, his hand still resting lightly on her back as if to say he was there if she needed him.
[She really has these men vying for her]
[Queen shit right there]
To the fans watching from the sidelines, the entire exchange was both mesmerizing and revealing. The sight of Jeonghan holding out his hand for Luna, the way she instinctively reached for him, and Mingyu’s immediate reaction to steady her— it all played out in a matter of seconds, but it spoke volumes.
Some fans squealed in delight, others exchanged knowing glances, and a few hurriedly typed out what they had just witnessed, already anticipating how the scene would blow up on social media. The protective dynamic between the three was undeniable, and the tension that simmered just below the surface was the kind that left everyone speechless.
GDA 2020
The ‘2020 Golden Disk Awards’ was one of the most anticipated events of the year, a night when the biggest names in K-pop gathered to celebrate their achievements and put on spectacular performances. The air buzzed with excitement as artists mingled backstage, rehearsed for their performances, and prepared to sit in the audience to watch the show unfold.
[THIS CLIP WAS LEGIT. ISTG MINGYU WAS GENUINELY PISSED]
[usually it is playful jealousy from the both of them but this time I think he was genuinely angry 👀]
SEVENTEEN, known for their stellar performances and impeccable teamwork, were seated together in the artist section, their eyes glued to the massive screens that hung above the stage. The cameras frequently panned across the audience, capturing the reactions of various groups and solo artists as they enjoyed the show.
Luna sat comfortably between Jeonghan and Mingyu. She was dressed in a sleek black dress that contrasted beautifully with the light makeup she wore. Her long hair cascaded over her shoulders, and she carried herself with the same quiet confidence that had earned her a special place in the hearts of Carats and K-pop fans alike.
[one of her best looks hands down]
The night had been filled with breathtaking performances and emotional speeches. The members were all in high spirits, applauding for their peers and exchanging whispered comments with each other. The group’s energy was infectious, and Luna, who was usually more reserved during such events, couldn’t help but feel the joy radiating from her bandmates.
[I’m sorry she just radiate bad bitch energy]
[untouchable fr]
As the night continued, the camera operator seemed to have a knack for finding the most candid moments. The large screens displayed close-ups of idols laughing, clapping, and reacting to the performances on stage. Suddenly, during a brief lull in the program, the camera zeroed in on Luna. Her face, initially unaware of the camera, was caught in a moment of serene focus as she watched the stage, her lips slightly parted in awe of the ongoing performance.
[LOOK AT HER!]
[SHE LOOKS CGI IN THERE]
The fans in the audience and those watching the live broadcast at home were quick to notice the shift. A collective gasp rose from the crowd, followed by an explosion of cheers as Luna’s face filled the screen. The noise caught her attention, and she turned to look at the big screen, only to realize that it was her own face staring back at her.
Her eyes widened in surprise before a radiant smile spread across her face. It was a smile that was both shy and charming, the kind that made hearts skip a beat. Luna’s reaction was pure and unfiltered, and the audience couldn’t get enough of it. The sound of fans screaming filled the venue, and the energy in the room surged as more fans joined in, their voices merging into a singular, resounding cheer.
[god took his time with her]
[I know her parents high five when they see her face]
[I just know she was made with love and not just a quick nut]
[I’ll stop.]
The members of SEVENTEEN noticed the shift as well. Seungkwan, always the expressive one, clapped enthusiastically, nudging Joshua and pointing at Luna on the screen. Hoshi joined in with a playful smirk, mouthing something to the camera as if to say, “Isn’t she great?” The rest of the members followed suit, their faces lighting up with pride and affection for their female member.
[I need friends that supportive]
[they are her biggest fans 🥹]
Jeonghan, who had been quietly watching the screen, leaned in closer to Luna. His expression was soft, his gaze lingering on her as if the rest of the world had faded away. The camera captured the moment just as Jeonghan mouthed a single word, his lips barely moving, but clear enough for any lip-reader to understand: “Beautiful.”
[HE SAID IT GUYS. IT IS PRETTY OBVIOUS]
Luna didn’t seem to notice Jeonghan’s words at first, her attention still partly on the screen, but Mingyu did. Seated on her other side, Mingyu’s smile faltered for the briefest of moments as he watched Jeonghan lean in close to Luna, whispering words that were meant only for her. The flicker of jealousy in Mingyu’s eyes was subtle, but for the eagle-eyed fans who knew him well, it was unmistakable.
[till this day, I want to know the tea behind this]
Mingyu shifted slightly in his seat, his hand tightening around the armrest as he fought to keep his expression neutral. The camera had moved on to another group, but the tension in their little corner of the artist section had not dissipated. Mingyu glanced at Jeonghan, who had now settled back into his seat, his gaze still fixed on Luna with that same adoring look.
The fans who were paying close attention to SEVENTEEN noticed the way Mingyu’s gaze darted between Luna and Jeonghan. It was as if he was trying to decipher what had just happened, his mind racing with thoughts that he couldn’t quite voice out loud. The competition between the two men for Luna’s attention had always been there, but tonight it seemed more palpable than ever.
As the next performer took the stage, Luna leaned back in her chair, her smile still lingering on her lips. She turned slightly to Jeonghan, who gave her a small, knowing smile in return. They exchanged a few words, their conversation hidden from the cameras, but their body language spoke volumes. Jeonghan’s posture was relaxed, and confident, as if he knew he had said the right thing at the right time.
[Guys I need the lore behind this. I am so serious]
Mingyu, on the other hand, was far from relaxed. He glanced at Luna, his brow furrowing slightly as he tried to join the conversation, but it was clear that something was bothering him. The fans who were watching the broadcast from home picked up on it immediately, and social media began to buzz with speculation. Tweets and posts started flooding in, with fans dissecting every little interaction between the trio.
[TWITTER THIS DAY WAS JUST INSANE]
[you just had to be there]
As the show continued, the tension between Jeonghan and Mingyu didn’t go unnoticed by the other members of SEVENTEEN either. DK, ever the peacemaker, tried to engage Mingyu in conversation, distracting him with lighthearted jokes and comments. But even as Mingyu laughed along with DK, his eyes kept drifting back to Luna and Jeonghan.
[I am being serious when I say this, something happened backstage for sure]
At one point, Luna, feeling the weight of the attention on her, turned to Mingyu with a bright smile, asking him a question about the next performer. Mingyu’s expression softened instantly, his eyes lighting up as he responded, eager to be the focus of her attention once again. But the moment was fleeting, as the show’s host announced the next award category, drawing everyone’s attention back to the stage.
Jeonghan, ever the observant one, noticed the shift in Mingyu’s demeanor and couldn’t help but smirk to himself. He knew Mingyu well enough to understand what was going on, but instead of backing down, Jeonghan seemed more determined than ever to keep Luna’s attention on him. It was a subtle, unspoken battle, one that played out in smiles, glances, and whispered words that only the three of them could hear.
[Jeonghan and Mingyu: “Pick me. Choose me. Love me.” Or however the fuck that goes]
As the night drew to a close and the final awards were handed out, SEVENTEEN stood to applaud the winners, their voices blending with the rest of the audience in a chorus of cheers.
But even as they clapped and cheered, the tension remained. The fans, ever watchful, continued to document every little moment, every glance and smile that passed between Luna, Jeonghan, and Mingyu. The love triangle that had been simmering beneath the surface was now more visible than ever, and the fans couldn’t wait to see what would happen next.
As the show finally ended and SEVENTEEN prepared to leave the venue, Jeonghan and Mingyu both moved to walk beside Luna. But this time, it was Luna who took control of the situation, linking her arms with both of them and pulling them close as they made their way out. The fans erupted in cheers as they watched the trio leave, their voices echoing through the venue.
[SHE HAS TWO ON A LEESH]
For Luna, the night had been a whirlwind of emotions, but she was blissfully unaware of the silent battle being waged for her attention. For Jeonghan and Mingyu, however, the competition was far from over. As they left the award show and stepped into the night, the tension between them lingered, a reminder that when it came to Luna, neither was willing to back down.
And for the fans, the story of SEVENTEEN’s love triangle had just added another chapter, one that they would be talking about for a long time to come.
And there we have it, a brief glimpse of the jealous moments between Jeonghan and Mingyu.
Comment down below what video I should do next! I can do anything SEVENTEEN related, from chaotic moments to videos of our favorite throupl– I mean triangle.
That’s all for now. Toodleloo~
comments…
@/lunababybae • 3 months ago ╰ that insomnia zero episode was just something else entirely.
@/saythename • 3 months ago ╰ MINGYU CONFESSING TO LUNA IS MY ROMAN EMPIRE!!
@/lalalunanova • 3 months ago ╰ istg look at 7:09 Jeonghan staring into Jiyeon’s soul.
@/jeonwoowonwoo • 3 months ago ╰ WATCH THE MEMBERS FACES WHEN MINGYU CONFESSED. THEY WERE ALL CAUGHT OFF GUARD.
@/mimilyemily • 3 months ago ╰ I am convinced the reason Luna stayed another round in the Insomnia Zero episode was because of what Mingyu said.
@/user624729262863 • 3 months ago ╰ Jeonghan breaking Jiyeon’s Wall-E Lego would have been my final straw tbh
@/kpopaddict555• 3 months ago ╰ you can’t convince me that the members weren’t trying to play Mingyu’s confession as a joke. YOU CANNOT!!
@/svtstan17• 3 months ago ╰ 8:00 they were all exchanging looks! Like I’m shocked they even kept this in the final cut.
@/sssssydnyyy • 3 months ago ╰ I am convinced these three are together 👀 don’t kill me. The evidence is right here.
@/mrsbaebae • 3 months ago ╰ 10:05 - 10:20 the fact that Mingyu and Jeonghan didn’t even bother dropping their mics and just kept holding it up for Luna till she finished talking is insane to me
@/jeongnanana • 2 months ago ╰ I AM IN PAIN RN. I LOVE JEONGNA WITH MY LIFE BUT FOR SOME REASON MINGNA IS TEMPTING ME AS WELL. SEND HELP FR.
@/shuashua17_ • 2 months ago ╰ jeonghan wiping the water off of Luna’s face and fixing her hair whilst having a injured arm is too much for me 🥹
@/gyusshadow • 1 month ago ╰ MINGYU’S HUGE ASS BICEPS WRAPPED AROUND JIYEON’S TINY WAIST MAKES ME WANT TO BE MANHANDLED BY HIM SO MUCH IT PHYSICALLY PAINS ME 🥵
@/oozoozwoozi6 • 1 month ago ╰ Gyu and Jeonghan’s morning voice in Luna’s live was simply life changing
@/donquixote • 1 month ago ╰ that Luna live should be renamed as “Watch as Tweedledee and Tweedledum fight for my attention.”
@/cutiesexylovely • 2 weeks ago ╰ JEONGHAN, LUNA, AND MINGYU IN GDA 2020 IS MY ROMAN EMPIRE. CAUSE WTF WAS GOING ON THAT NIGHT FR!??
@/moonlight_1997 • 1 week ago ╰ Jeonghan leading Luna in the airport and Mingyu protecting her from the back screams throuple… I am sorry but it’s the truth 🤭
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A Rose in Harlem
Simon Riley is an enigma—a brooding, complex man with a shadowed past that he can’t escape. You’re just an ordinary person until he claws his way into your life and you can't help but give in to him. The only problem is that you try to keep things casual, while Simon's never been one to settle for that.
Long live the rose that grew from concrete, when no one else ever cared.
Masterlist
PART 3
(He longs to be) Close to you
***
You freeze, heart pounding, the moment shattered. Who the fuck is that? You think to yourself, panic creeping in. Another knock then a familiar, playful voice from the other side of the door.
“Bitch! I know you're home!”
“Oh my God. Ishta.”
You completely forgot about your little watch party with her. This can't be happening now. Of course it's happening right now.
“Hm, that a girlfriend I don't know about?”
Simon murmurs, nuzzling his face to your neck.
“You need to go.”
Your voice is low, urgent, but it only seems to amuse him. His hands wrap around your waist, pumping his hips upwards, rubbing himself against your soaked underwear.
“What, you're kicking me out? Just like that?”
He nips at your neck, making you yeep. He tightens his hold, long arms locking you in.
You tense, trying to wiggle from him but him and his stupidly defined arms aren't budging.
“I'm serious; you need to leave, now.”
You twist in his arms, your anxiety growing as Ishta's knocking gets louder. She's never been patient.
You can feel his lips curve into a smile.
“You're tense, should relax a bit.”
“Relax?! Oh my God, I'm gonna kill you.”
You snap in a hushed tone, yanking yourself free (well, more like he finally relents and lets you go). You tug your shorts up while he follows suit, much more leisurely than you. He quips while letting you drag him towards the fire escape,
“Can't believe I'm the other woman, thought I was special, angel.”
“You're not making this easy.”
“Mistresses rarely do.”
Simon smirks, while you pull him to the window. Ishta knocks again, louder this time.
“Stop jerking off, the ice cream is melting!”
Simon snickers and you push him through the window onto the fire escape. His large frame steps out, stretching out while he turns to you.
“What? No kiss goodbye?”
“Simon!”
He doesn't budge until you lean out the window, planting a quick, chaste kiss on his scared lips. His hand cups the back of your neck, practically shoving his tongue down your throat, before you wrench yourself away.
“Bye.”
The words come out harsher than you mean while you shut the window, watching him slip into his place, not trusting him to sneak back into yours.
Ishta's voice whines from behind your front door. You smooth out your clothes, pasting a sheepish, wide smile. You take a deep breath before opening your door.
“Hey girl! Sorry I-”
“Was jerking off thinking about your neighbor? I know girl. Get that nut in friend.”
She empties her tote, sets some wine bottles down and grabs two cups from the kitchen before bending to sit on the couch. You wince watching her try to sit where his bare ass was.
“Oh! No don't-”
She looks at you curiously, frozen mid-squat— your brain scrambling to find something remotely plausible.
“I spilled tuna juice there earlier.”
She narrows her eyes at you, searching your face. She must be satisfied with what she sees because she shrugs and moves to the other side.
“Can't smell fishy. Got a date later.”
She pops open a bottle, pouring a generous amount into each cup. You grab the one she offers and take a seat on the arm of the couch.
“A date, huh? Is it that finance guy from last month?”
She rolls her eyes, turning on the TV.
“Oh God, no. He was so fucking annoying, trust fund baby.”
You laugh a little, grateful for her not pressing you on the couch thing.
“So who's the lucky guy?”
She waves her hand vaguely, her attention already on the TV, looking for a show.
“Met him at the park. He was jogging—shirtless, obviously—and tripped over his own fucking shoelaces. Adorable. Total himbo vibes.”
You raise an eyebrow, smiling into your glass.
“Thought you liked nerds.”
“That's the thing,”
She turned to you, grinning like a fool.
“Ok so, we were talking about showers,”
“Naturally.”
“Naturally. Anyways, he starts going on about different hypotheses of 'the shower curtain effect' with this dumbass smile on his face. I'm trying not to stare at his tits and just ask him if he wants drinks before I start drooling. Obviously, he says yes, and here we are!”
She finishes her glass and helps herself to another. You lean closer to her.
“So what's the plan? Drinks, talk about nerdy shit, and then stumble into his place and ogle at his star wars figurines?”
“First off all,”
She raises a finger.
“He’s an artist, so get it right. And secondly, he's Scottish. So like, the accent makes everything hotter.”
You hum curiously.
“My apologies, I clearly underestimated his international flare.”
“You did. Also, you're welcome for letting you live vicariously through me, by the way.”
She flips her hair over her shoulder.
“Oh, oohh my goodness. Thank you for your graciousness.”
You say in mock appreciation, hand over your heart. Her eyes twinkle when she winks at you.
“Freely granted, my dear. I'll text you all the juicy details.”
“Lucky me.”
You say dryly, swirling your wine glass. Ishta lightly hits your knee.
“Look at us. You got your English guy, I got my Scottish one. Just gotta snatch up an Irish and Welsh one, and we've got a whole set!”
“Please be serious, girl. Also, he's not ‘my guy’, he's just a neighbor.”
“Uh-huh, keep telling yourself that. We'll see how long that lasts.”
***
You've been more moody lately. From Ishta unintentionally cock-blocking you, to work being particularly demanding, and finally, Simon terrorizing you relentlessly.
Ever since ‘the incident’ he's been on you like white on rice. He'll stop you in the mornings in the foyer and casually talk about how he came to the thought of you last night or stand behind you in the elevator and grind up against you, laxly apologizing.
“Sorry. It's just such a tight fit here, right angel?”
You silently thank God Simon has the sense to pull these stunts when no one else is around to witness his brand of debauchery (he doesn't, you just got lucky no one's there when he pulls that shit).
You're barely holding onto your patience. Every word he says, every deliberate touch grates on your nerves. He has you on edge, dangling by a thread. A simple nudge could send you tumbling— yet he never quite gives it. Instead, he leaves you like this, toeing the line.
Waiting. Waiting on you to make the jump.
It kind of surprises you, given the whole…incident. You expected him to follow you into your apartment one day and finally consummate whatever twisted, simmering thing you had going on. But he didn't. Seemed to enjoy making you squirm.
***
You could almost forget about him during the day. Almost. Work has been a circus lately, thanks to your boss—the museum curator who seems to thrive on chaos. She’s brilliant, yes, but she’s also impossible. Barking orders, demanding perfection, treating every missed detail like a personal betrayal. You spend your mornings running errands and your afternoons fielding phone calls from artists who need their egos stroked. The only moment of reprieve is when you’re in the gallery itself, away from the madness, the artwork pulling you into a quiet, timeless space.
But even that doesn’t last. Today, you spent hours installing a new piece—a massive, fragile sculpture—and as soon as it was in place, she decided it needed to be moved six inches to the left. Six inches. By the time you got home, your nerves were frayed, your patience long gone.
He’d been waiting in the lobby when you arrived, as if he knew you’d had a long day. His presence suffocating, his voice a low murmur in your ear as he stood too close, his hand brushing your hip when you reached for the elevator button.
“You look tense, angel.”
“Simon, please.”
“‘Please?’ Wow, must've been really bad today.”
He chuckles to himself, like he's so fucking funny.
You rub your eyes, the tired dryness a reminder of the day you'd had. He sees this as an invitation to step behind you and wrap his arms around you. Large frame towering over you, long arms sliding around you.
“Not in the mood for this today, Simon.”
You mutter, void of its usual bite.
You don't even have the energy to push him away when he plants a kiss on the side of your neck, softer than the last time his lips touched your skin.
“So sweet when you're tired out. Wonder if you're like this after-”
The elevator dings and you pull away, pushing his head off your shoulder and trudging to your place. At this point, you're too drained to care about his games, too tired to rise to the bait.
If he wasn't going to stop playing, wasn't going to do anything but pussyfoot around, you had better things to do—like collapse on your bed and sleep for 12 hours straight.
You reach your door and fumble with your keys, cursing under your breath when they decide now is the perfect time to be elusive in your bag.
“Need help?”
You don’t jump. You’re too used to that voice coming from behind you, low and amused. His words echo in your head more than you’d like to admit these days.
“No.”
You say, sharp enough to bite through the air as you finally fish the keys out and shove one into the lock.
It sticks. Of course, it sticks.
He says something you ignore while he leans against the side of the doorframe, watching you struggle. Your head lands on the door with a soft thud, forehead pressing against the cool metal.
“You’ve been quiet tonight. Not like you to let me have the last word.”
“I’m too tired for this.”
“For what?”
“For your bullshit.”
You spit, jiggling the key rougher than necessary.
Simon hums, entertained.
“There she is. Was worried I lost you for a minute.”
The key refuses to turn. Between him looking over your shoulder and the fucking door mocking you, your patience starts to shred, gossamer-thin.
When the door finally opens, you turn to him.
“Do you ever shut up?”
He shrugs.
“Not when I’m having this much fun.”
“You call this fun?”
“Watching you fight with a door? Yeah, a little bit. Had my money on the door though, unfortunately.”
You swear his grin is almost audible under that mask.
Your eyes narrow, heated.
“Don't you have somewhere else to be?”
He doesn't miss a beat.
“No, actually. Not tonight.”
“Of course not, when do you ever?”
You mutter, yanking your keys out of the lock.
“Just keeping the schedule free for you, love.”
“Free to annoy me?”
“Something like that.”
Your eyes drift from his face down to his arms crossed over his chest. His compression shirt doesn't help, the material stretching in a way that feels obscene.
Then while he watches you stare, he flexes subtly.
It pulls a laugh out of you, the sound slipping out before you can help it,
“Whore.”
He pulls his mask down, showing off his own smile. His canines sharp and slightly crooked, but somehow it makes him more attractive. Like he doesn't just accept his imperfections, but wears them proudly, fully aware of their charm.
“Just for you, angel.”
“Your persistence is coming off pathetic.”
You huff half-hearted, crossing your arms.
“Doesn't seem to bother you much.”
Simon goads. You think this is the happiest you've ever seen him.
“It does.”
You lick your teeth, feigning irritation. He mirrors the movement, finishing it off with a smile that makes your face hot.
“Go on then,”
His voice drops lower, thick and languid, molasses poured slow on a hot day.
“Tell me how you really feel.”
It's quiet for a moment. He tilts his head, eyes glinting and the edge you've been teetering on crumbles underneath you, all reservations and restraint gone. You grip the strings of his hoodie and pull him down to your face.
“You're insufferable.”
“Yes.”
“A tease.”
“Mhm.”
“Worst neighbor I've ever had.”
“Ouch.”
He says, though his tone is anything but wounded. If anything, it sounds downright gleeful.
“Makes me wanna do awful things to you.”
You say in a hushed tone, a newfound energy pumping through your veins. The space between you grows smaller as you tug him even closer, his hands instinctively finding your waist, steadying both of you.
“Yeah,”
His voice is low, molten. A scorching heat that flows from his mouth down your chest and stomach.
“Probably use those pretty little hands, leave marks. Bruises I'd feel every time I breathe.”
You twirl the strings around your fingers, leading him into your place. It feels like tugging on a leash tied to a dangerous dog— wild and unpredictable, tethered to you and you only. He catches the door before it slams shut, closing it without looking, dark eyes honed in on you. Makes your stomach do flips.
“You'd like that, wouldn't you?”
His silence is answer enough, a smirk playing on his face. You muse, shoving him toward the couch with a playful push,
“Maybe I'd keep it simple, knife to the heart. If I could find it.”
He spreads out on the cushions, pulling you to him, making you straddle one of his thick thighs.
“Sounds painful, tell me more.”
“Maybe I'd tie you up. Make you beg for your life.”
When you say that, he groans— an honest-to-god groan and his grip on your hips tightens.
“It’d be hard, getting through all that muscle and bone,”
He grabs your wrist, making you press two fingers on the hard, fast pulse right under his jaw.
“Be quicker and easier to hit it right here. Faster way to go out.”
You cock your head to the side, biting back a moan feeling the beat of the vein under his skin go impossibly fast when you hum.
“Think I'm gonna go easy on you?”
His response is instant, almost desperate if you thought he was capable of that emotion.
“I hope to God not.”
He wraps himself around you, pressing you up against his solid frame like he's trying to meld his body to yours.
***
He's been at this for long, too long. He hasn't even taken off either of your pants, all too happy to have you grinding your pants against his denim. It's got you so pent up, you're half crazed, panting in the crook of his neck and mumbling pleas for relief.
“Want you, Simon.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
He shakes his head and you groan in frustration.
“Been a real brat lately, can't reward that kind of behavior.”
“Pleasepleaseplease-”
“Sound so pretty, begging for me.”
You're trying anything at this point. Anything but ripping his clothes off. Or yours.
“Don't you wanna feel good too?”
Your tone is so dulcet, it's almost too sweet in your mouth, words dripping with a carefully calculated innocence. You play with the waistband of his jeans, before you can get too far he takes hold of your wrist.
“I know what you're trying to do.”
There's a pause while you pull back to look at him, a sheepish smile on your face.
“Is it working?”
“Hmm…”
“Simon!”
You huff, almost whiny. He relents, only a little, bouncing you on his thigh once before forcing your hips to grind down harder on him. It makes you lean into him again, he presses a soft kiss on your temple, the kind of gesture that feels almost like he's mocking you with a false sense of soothing. As if he feels bad for you—his touch gentle but somehow condescending.
“Poor thing, could've gotten it sooner if you wanted to. Closed mouths don't get fed, you know?”
He sounds amused, lips still brushing against your temple. Your mouth finds its way to his neck, he lulls his head back, giving you more access to it. It's sweet, tender, starting at his collarbone and moving up slowly until you get to the artery he made you press up against earlier. The moment your teeth press up against it, he comes undone.
“Gaggin’ for it that bad?”
The sound of his belt clicking makes you downright giddy, you lick his neck, feeling his heartbeat under your tongue.
“Mhm…”
He grabs your hand to shove it down his pants and your brain goes static for a moment.
“Had me waiting all this time, and now you want it?”
It's growled into your ear, something about the way it's almost spat out, mean—it sends jolts of electricity between your legs.
“C'mon, show me how much you missed it.”
Your face heats up at his words and he lets out an entertained huff.
“He missed you too, ya know.”
A breathless giggle escapes you when he flexes, making his dick jump in your hands. You pull him out of his pants, eyes going wide. You've felt how big he was before, but seeing it was a whole different thing. Made it all real. Something about the way his pink tip peeked out made you laugh a little, a fleeting thought of him blushing everywhere, even on his dick.
“What?”
He furrows his brows a little, curious.
The truth tumbles out of you before you can stop it. You think you've made a mistake until you see him. His face is unreadable at first, and you brace for some sharp quip or a look of annoyance.
But instead, Simon’s reaction is… different. His ears go pink first, followed by a deep flush creeping up his neck. You want to laugh again but he creeps a hand up your spine to the back of your neck, guiding you into light kisses. You still manage to slip out a few giggles in-between, a smile creeping up across his face. It's such a warm moment, you almost forget about holding him until he twitches in your hands.
“Got the prettiest laugh.”
“Is there anything that you don't think is pretty about me?”
You ask, teasing him.
“No.”
His answer is quick, unwavering, and so serious that it makes your breath catch. You search his face, expecting the usual smirk or a sly remark, but there’s nothing there but honesty. He clears his throat, the faintest flicker of vulnerability flashing in his eyes before he tries to mask it.
“Right, let's get these off.”
He guides you off him so you can stand, he shimmies your pants and underwear off. Once you kick off the fabric pooled around your feet he leans forward, breath hot on your mons.
“Missed her.”
He says so quietly, almost to himself.
“Your pretty girl?”
You run a hand over his buzz cut, and he grips the sides of your bare thighs.
“Yeah…my pretty girl.”
A wet kiss on your most sensitive spot makes your legs tense up. He traces slow, indulgent circles, like this was more for him than you. The tension in your body mounting with every flick of his tongue.
He goes on like this until your knees almost give way from a quick, hard suck. He holds you up with a strong grip under the crease of your ass.
“Think you can stand on your own for a minute, love?”
You’re far past the point of throwing a smart remark his way, your body humming with the tension he’s left simmering under your skin. Instead, you nod quickly, eagerly.
“So good for me, angel. How'd I get so lucky, hm?”
It’s less a question and more an indulgence, the kind of thing he says to soak in the moment while he shoves his pants down to his thighs. When he pulls you towards him, guiding you to settle on his lap, just brushing his tip over your slick entrance, you follow without hesitation—soft, pliant, docile.
“Such a sweet thing. Only for me, right?”
Before you get to answer, he drags your hips down, pushing himself inside you. The stretch borders on discomfort—not just because it's been a while, but because he's thicker than anyone you've ever had before.
It's all so overwhelming— his voice, his touch, his body—all glut and heavy with want. The weight of it crashes over you, leaving you dizzy, untethered. Every word he speaks seeps into your skin, warm and lingering, while his hands, firm yet reverent, treat you like something both fragile and fiercely desired.
When he slides you down more, you tense up. Thighs flexing, clenching around him. It draws a curse from him,
“Fuck…yeah, only for me.”
The moment is so much softer than you imagined it to be—aside from him trying to lick the inside of your mouth. It's coos and words of encouragement,
“Look at you, taking it like a big girl,”
“Bet you needed this as much as I did,”
Big, rough hands gliding up and down your body, squeezing gently. Slow, deep strokes sink into you until you're a shaking mess, arms wrapped around him, clinging onto him like he's your lifeline, mumbling nonsense into his neck. He's taking full advantage of the moment, of course, his voice low and dripping with amusement as he watches you come undone for him.
"Gonna be like this all the time now, pet?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Only like this for me, yeah?”
“Mhm.”
You whisper, the words spilling out as easily as your control.
“No one else gets to touch you like this, huh?”
“Uhn-uh.”
Your lips brushing against his neck, your heartbeat hammering against his chest, sweat slick against the skin.
And it goes on like this, making empty promises with the devil. Signing yourself away with no hesitation, no second thoughts. Because he kisses you so tenderly it makes you flutter everywhere. Because the way he lifts you up just to buck his hips up into you makes your brain leak out of your ears. Because here, pressed against him, drowning in his voice and touch, there's nowhere else you'd rather be.
He hits that spot that makes your nerves taught. You're a string wound up too tight, his name spilling from your mouth again and again, each time more ragged, a little more whiny and desperate, until it finally snaps. You shatter, the force knocking the air from your lungs while he throws his head back, your name leaking out like it's the only word he knows. You're overstimulated, thighs burning and shaking while he ruts into you. You're pushing him with flimsy arms, whining about how ‘it's too much’. That only seems to egg him on, though, spurring him to murmur filth between honeyed kisses,
“Gonna ruin you for anyone else,”
“Split you apart everyday and you'll fucking thank me for it, won't you?”
He doesn't even look for an answer from you, more than happy to bask in the mess he made of you. A few more strokes has him choking mid-sentence, sinking so deep inside you think he might've been serious about splitting you apart.
It's quiet for a moment, save for the heavy breaths shared between the two of you
“You with me, angel?”
He sighs, his lips press against the skin right over your heart. He lingers, sucking softly, the kind of pressure that's going to leave the skin tender for days—a reminder of him.
You nod, barely able to find your voice, but he waits-patient, his hands wrapping around yours.
"Yeah…”
You finally manage, squeezing a hand that completely engulfs yours, brushing against it with your thumb.
"Good,"
He whispers, his lips brushing against yours again.
"That's all I need.”
And in the back of your mind, as his touch lingers, there's a small fleeting thought:
Oh, you're fucked.
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#love whens hes a little evil and manipulative#this one is softer than i planned it to be but oh well!!#soft simon i love you babeyy#a rose in harlem#simon riley#simon ghost riley#simon riley x you#simon riley x reader#simon ghost x you#simon ghost x reader#ghost x you#ghost x reader#cod x you#cod x reader
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Could I request headcanons for ZZZ Billy, Wise, and Lycaon reacting to his shy gn crush confessing to him please?
Another late-night writing session, another cilent.
[sips my coffee]
Eh- too much sugar... good.
Heartfelt Confessions
⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎…
I may have done this a little wrong, but I wrote it in the sense of that they boys where enamored with the gn!insert. That they had a crush on them yet the insert confessed to them. I hope I got that right!
Billy / Wise / Lycaon x Shy-Gn!reader
𝑃𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑖𝑡…⋙
tw: none?
✦ I’ll be honest, this would probably go over his head at first. Billy is familiar with their mannerisms and is always patient with them. After all, he just adores how they stumble over their worlds when they wish to comment on anything their cute mind is thinking over. So Billy is just standing there, looking at them as they gather their thoughts and admit their growing affects to them. Yet he’s too focused on the dewy glaze over their eyes when they shyly look up at him, the subtle pout on their lips where he could only dream to feel on his face-plates.
✦ But after some moments of quiet and Billy finally registering what it is they said, he’s baffled and exclaiming why someone so amazing- a beacon of joy and pure innocence, a being that anyone would be more than blessed to have been in the presence of when they flash their most radiant smile- would ever like the likes of him! Believe me, if his long pause of silence from before startled them nervous, his own sudden confession made them embarrassed as he’s practically screaming how amazing they are.
✦ But they assure him that they’ve always admired and shortly grew to love his flaws and perfections. That he made them feel safe and how he made them laugh when times grew grim, that he is always too patient and understanding and that no matter what he was told, they’d only see the real him. The person who cheers up a friend, a person who is passionate about the interests of his colleague, a person who is strong and steps up for others who can’t themselves. Billy could feel his gears and joints ache in the need to collapse as their words come out confident and true, wanting to be a mere puddle beneath their feet. Needless to say, he happily accepted after making another scene which only made them more embarrassed.
✦ His crush has been working part-time at the store with them, always helping them out with returns and promotional materials. So when Belle left to run some errands and it was just them two, Wise was shocked at first when they asked to speak with him in private. So in the staff room, they rushed out their confession that Wise was worried that they could have bitten their tongue and tried to calm them down.
✦ He holds their arms gently and tells them that it’s alright and how he’s nothing but happy to hear this. He’ll admit, he’s known about their affections for a while after all he’s Wise, cunning and sharp with attention to details. That and while he won’t admit it, Belle has at times helped him figure out if they really do like him. The teasing she and Eous gave him, if word got out to you he’d probably die there and now. Maybe he should have gone through Fairy and see to it that any camera recording of the incident be deleted.
✦ Seeing as he all accepted their confess, they smile happily before he pulls them into a tight hug, heart beating as he finally could do all the things he wanted now that they knew he liked them- no, cherished their affect and love. He couldn’t wait to bombard them with the soft touches, lingering kisses and teasing whispers that he has held back out of respect and belief that they were nothing more than just friends, co-workers, allies. That is, if they would be mentally ready as he notices how fidgety and flushed they became at the simple gesture of affection. Yeah, he’ll go slow with them for sure, but he was nothing but excited.
✦ Lycaon cares dearly for his proxy and always attempts to keep things professional between the two. However, it proves difficult when they always depend on them when working together, always seeking him out and giving him the time of day while others probably wouldn’t. He holds them closely to his heart, so anytime they call on him, he’s at attention and can’t help but have to hold back the need to kneel before them and pledge loyalty there. Which would have made them more nervous and flushed when they ask about what they are.
✦ Of course, they’ve noticed his attention to detail in their mannerism and how he’s always stepping up to help them should they grow to shy to order or help solve their problem they thought dumb and meaningless. They are scared of ruining this little bond of theirs, but Von could only assure them that their feelings are true, that he would be an idiot should he not accept their confession as he too has nothing but love filled for them. He compromised that they’ll still hold a professional work relationship but in private, he’d want nothing more than to be theirs.
✦ The way they blush and start fidgeting with a strand of hair, he hadn’t noticed how his tail swayed happily despite the calm and clear demeanor he displayed. The mere motion made them only awe at how cute he was, taking his gloved hand as he lifted it towards his muzzle. The lightest of kisses on the back of their hand, skin warmed at the touch as he only stares with those dark red eyes of his. Piercing as to say they were his as he is theirs, a bond stronger than human- one of the beast and their tamer.
#zenless zone zero#zzz#zonelist#headcanons#von lycaon#von lycaon x reader#billy kid x reader#billy kid#wise#wise x reader#gn!reader
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Poly!marauders x readers where maybe they are roommates and love the reader and being touchy and caring but the reader just thinks they are affectionate with all their friends?
Thanks for the request darling! I am more than happy to oblige. Thank you for patiently waiting too since it did take a while to publish it (ugh school am I right?) I tweaked it a bit, hope you don’t mindd : ) Really wanted to publish this before my birthday (which is tomorrow) as a little treat to myself and to you guys. I hope you enjoy!
Special Treatment?
Pairing: Poly!Marauders x Reader
CW: None that I could think of?? except for possible typos and grammatical errors. (1.3k words)
You often found asking yourself one-too-many-times if the boys’ affection to you were just purely platonic or romantic.
Maybe you were just being dramatic— giving meaning to meaningless stuff they do for you.
It's probably you, yeah. You and your delusional arse, really. Why would they want you in the mix when the three of them are already dating?
Although— you just can't help but feel special when Remus makes you his famous “Moony toast” as he likes to call it, or when Sirius calls you 'his doll' and slings his arm over your shoulder which results in your stomach doing flips, and let’s not forget how James would flash his mega-watt smile, setting your breakfast down and making sure you know that he's the one who cooked it for you.
With the help of Remus, of course— your flat would turn into ashes if you let James cook alone in the kitchen.
Being roommates with three dudes is certainly uncommon but fun. Telling people about it… well, makes them shoot you questioning looks or are concerned that you’re being held hostage by three big burly men.
You really weren’t sure how it happened— the four of you just fitted together seamlessly, similar to cogs of a well-oiled machine.
It began during the last three months of your 7th year in Hogwarts, you decided to start looking for flats to rent, preferably in close to London. You wanted to live where muggles are, having such keen interest about them and their daily lives, deciding to pursue a muggle career also helped you in your decision.
You tried searching if there's any available flats to rent and how much it’ll cost. However, seeing that you're a broke student, you really couldn't afford any sky-high prices for rent.
It seemed like all hope was lost until you asked one of your friends, Lily, if she knows anyone looking for a flat mate.
You were sure she was an angel sent here on Earth, after a few days she told you that Remus, James, and Sirius have no problems taking you in, seeing that you guys are housemates during their years in Hogwarts.
The rest was history.
They made sure you wouldn’t feel left out. It was how they looked out for you, the way they included you in every plan, every joke, every moment of their lives.
Although, as the days turn into weeks, and weeks into months you start to notice the little things they do.
"Hey doll, have any movies tickled your fancy yet?" Sirius asks, sneaking his arm around your waist, leaning close to your face.
"Erm, no not really... You guys could pick, I'd be fine with anything." You smiled at him, before fleeing to the kitchen to calm your racing heart.
"You're just friends with them, Y/n. I'm sure they do this with Lily and the others..." you let out a mumble, absentmindedly grabbing a glass of water before bumping into someone.
"Whoa, are you okay, darling?" Remus' worried voice pulled you out of your thoughts as he cupped your face before placing the back of his hand on your forehead.
"I'm alright!" You squeaked; Remus' doesn't really look to convinced. "Are you sure, darling? You look rather flushed... I told you to bring your jacket yesterday when you went out. You probably caught a cold." He frowned, you tried to protest but your attempt was futile as he shimmied off his cardigan and made you wear it. "I'll make you some lemon water, alright darling?" James called out from the living room, "We're starting the movie without you guys!"
Remus yelled out, boiling some warm water. "Hold your bloody horses, prongs! I'm making some lemon water." You heard a shuffling of feet nearing you, making you look up.
"Love, don't tell me you're sick." He frowns, and like what Remus did earlier, he placed the back of his hand on your forehead. "I'm not sick." You protested, but it all fell on deaf ears.
Next time you told them you went out, you were practically dressed for winter even though it's only spring.
Those little things made you honestly take a step back and re-asses your situation with them because for merlin's sake, why do they act like your boyfriends when you're just friends with them, right? You couldn't really open it up to Lily because you'd probably sound stupid if this was just normal for them.
Your mind ran with hundreds of what if's and the way Remus' eyes linger on you for a second too long, with an emotion you can't quite decipher doesn't help soothe the thoughts in your mind. The warmth of Sirius' touch, James and oh merlin, when the three of them kissed you on the cheeks during a movie night? You really couldn't live in denial anymore.
You're no detective but the signs are there, clear as day. There's a high chance they're not just being friendly—they care, deeply. And maybe, just maybe, you do too.
Having read enough romance novels, you quickly recognized the pattern, but this isn't fiction. This is real life, and these are your roommates—three guys who have somehow, inexplicably, fallen for the same person. You.
Sitting in loveseat while nursing a cup of tea, you couldn’t help but notice the way the morning light caught in Sirius’s hair, giving him a halo that seemed so at odds with his mischievous smirk. “Morning, doll,” he greeted, his voice a smooth baritone that sent shivers throughout your system. Does this man haven't ever heard of morning voice?
“Morning,” you replied, trying to keep your voice even. “Slept well?”
“Like a log,” he said, eyes softening before squeezing himself beside you. “Did you? You were up late reading with Moony.”
You nodded, the feeling the warmth within your chest surfacing because of the memory. Remus usually reads his novel alongside you, it's sort of yours and his thing. Although you sometimes found yourself getting distracted and instead of focusing on the book, you were drawn to the gentle timbre of his voice and the way his hand occasionally brushed yours as he pointed something out on the page he was reading.
And then there was James, who was currently flipping pancakes with a concentration that was both endearing and amusing. He caught your eye and grinned, the same smile that had greeted you every morning since you’d moved in. “These are going to be the best pancakes you’ve ever tasted,” he declared. “Guaranteed to improve your day by at least twenty percent.”
You laughed, the sound mingling with the sizzling of the batter. “I’ll hold you to that.”
A bedroom creaked open, and Remus shuffled out, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “Is that breakfast I smell?” he mumbled, heading to the kitchen "Yeah, go help prongsie, moons. It's a miracle he hasn't started a fire yet." Sirius teased, it made Remus more awake and practically ran to supervise James.
After a few moments, the four of you were digging into the half-burnt pancakes that James was proud of, a mishmash of pajamas and bed hair (except for Sirius), and yet it felt right. It felt like family. As you ate, you found yourself observing them, the way they interacted with each other, and with you. There was a harmony; a rhythm that you had become a part of without even realizing it.
It was in the little things: the way Remus passed you the syrup without you having to ask, or the sound of Sirius’ laughter seemed to wrap around you like a warm blanket. And James? Well, he was the glue that held it all together, his energy infectious and his presence a constant source of comfort for all of you.
You realized; it didn’t matter what other people thought. They don't see what you saw, feel what you've felt. They don’t understand that this was more than just a shared living space; it was a shared life. And maybe, just maybe, it was okay to give meaning to the ‘meaningless stuff’ because, to you, it meant everything.
And as you looked around at the three men who had become your world, you knew that this was normal. Your normal. And it was perfect.
#poly!marauders fluff#poly!marauders imagine#poly!marauders x reader#marauders x reader#marauders fluff#james potter x reader#sirius black x reader#remus lupin x reader#marauders era#remus lupin#sirius black#james potter#moony wormtail padfoot and prongs
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Ma'am, I need more of Dan/Wraith in Arkham 😭 and maybe him managing to get out and meeting Dick again. Pretty please with strawberry cream on top 🥹🥹
(I’m lowkey surprised by how many people like this AU XD It got rather long lmao)
Part 1, part 2
Selina stared at the man that was sitting in her living room alongside her best friends. Harley was happily chattering his ear off, with Ivy interjecting now and then. The man, Wraith, patiently listened to Harley’s ranting, with only a little objecting whenever she went off-topic too much. He did not breathe and he rarely blinked, similar to a statue.
Or she supposed he was more like a phantom, with his abilities that he had used to help them all escape Arkham when they had attracted too many guards’ attentions.
Although he was creepy and he made the temperature of her living room drop several times, he had helped them all and he was very polite. She couldn’t find any real fault in him except the way her instincts wanted her to not look at him directly, like a haunted painting.
“So now that we’re free, what do you wanna do?” Harley asked. Selina focused back on the conversation, as Wraith hummed and Ivy and Harley turned to look at her with various levels of eagerness.
“There’s a new jewelry exhibit opening up tomorrow. Want to take some diamonds?” Selina asked, speaking up as she glanced at Wraith.
Wraith hummed. “Thank you, but I think I’ll decline. If any of you need help, I am willing to offer my services, but—”
“Is Nightwing still in Gotham?” Harley asked, interrupting Wraith, who glared at her.
Selina raised an eyebrow. “Yeah. He’s still visiting.”
“Actually, I would love to assist you three in any way. My powers are at your service. What time are we going to the exhibit tomorrow?” Wraith suddenly said, looking very eager. Selina blinked at the whiplash before looking at Harley and Ivy, who both looked amused.
It was Ivy who mouthed the words, ‘He likes Nightwing,’ to her, which made her hold back a laugh.
She could remember that little Robin that used to cheerfully break someone’s face with a flying somersault, and that same little boy had grown up into a vigilante with almost flying abilities with the way he moved and fought. Wraith was a criminal, since he was in Arkham, but he didn’t seem too bad. In a way, it reminded her of her and Bruce.
“Well. I think Ivy and Harley can take the other vigilantes, right? I can take Batman and you’ll take Nightwing?” Selina said. Wraith perked up and nodded happily.
How cute. She was so not telling Bruce about this beforehand, so she could laugh about his expression later.
A day passed, and the four of them traveled to the museum when it was night. By now, news of Harley and Ivy being broken out was already known, so security had gotten a little more strict. Still, it was nothing with all of their expertise and Wraith’s unexplained meta abilities. They snuck in easily and looted all of the gold, gems, jewelry, and antiques they saw.
“Where’s your bag?” Selina asked, as she eyed Wraith holding some pearls and gems without a bag to contain it. He was dressed in a dark leather suit that had been originally Bruce’s cat suit— it was nice to hope that he would join her one day— but was now repurposed for Wraith. Her question was answered with a small smile from Wraith as he shoved his hand into his chest, making the gems disappear. Her eyebrows rose but she just gave a nod and moved on.
After that, the bigger and heavier items were given to Wraith to keep. Selina was almost a little worried by how much they trusted him, but Harley didn’t seem to notice and only she and Ivy had some anxiety about it. However, Wraith didn’t seem to care either, and listened to their expertise without any hesitation. It was probably because he was younger than them by at least a decade, she realized.
He was extremely fascinating, and Selina suddenly understood why Harley was so interested in him like a scientist towards a petri dish.
The Gotham heroes finally arrived, just as they loaded up everything in the car. Wraith perked up when he saw Nightwing amongst the vigilantes coming towards them.
Selina couldn’t help but laugh at the sudden cheer on his usually bored or blank expression.
“Okay, Harley, Ivy, you two go back to the hideout. Wraith, you can take me away if we need to, right?” Selina asked, smiling as she recalled Wraith’s intangibility and invisibility abilities yesterday.
Wraith nodded and the other two drove off without hesitation, leaving Selina and Wraith facing the Gotham vigilantes. Wraith wagged his clawed fingers in a greeting at Nightwing, smirking broadly.
“Hello, Nightwing. It’s good to see you again,” he purred. Selina was watching the spectacle gleefully, occasionally glancing at Batman’s covered expression, wondering if she was going to see a good show today.
Nightwing faltered in his steps before he shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. However, he answered pleasantly, “Hello, Wraith. I see you’ve befriended the Sirens.”
“Mhm. They helped me a lot so I could see you again.”
Nightwing’s cheeks darkened but through the shadows, Selina felt like she could see a bit of red on his face. “I see. Well, I’ll have to ask you guys to give up the jewelry you stole. We can do this the hard way or the easy way.”
“Please do the hard way,” Wraith purred again, even throatier than before. Selina had to choke on her giggles as Batman stiffened in horror, staring between his oldest son and the criminal.
Nightwing coughed and took out his escrima sticks. “Well, you’re under arrest, Wraith. Surrender and we won’t have to—”
“Oh my god, just fight him! Stop flirting!” Spoiler screamed and then they all flew into action. Selina took out her whip, but before she could make a move, Wraith darted at her, wrapped his arms around her, and then turned invisible before they flew off through the walls.
Selina blinked rapidly as she watched the museum grow smaller and smaller into the distance. “… you could fly the entire time?”
“Hmm? Oh yes, I’m very strong.” There was a touch of deep arrogance in Wraith’s voice. Then he sighed, “But I was told not to make too much trouble. So it’s better to make an early escape than stick around.”
“I would’ve thought that you would’ve stayed to flirt with Nightwing some more,” Selina teased.
“It’s weird to flirt in front of his siblings,” Wraith said in distaste as they flew over the building roofs and past the clouds to Selina’s hideout. “I’ll find another day to fight him without voyeurs around.”
Selina burst into laughter. Yeah, she could completely understand why Ivy and Harley wanted to take him in now. He really was quite interesting.
#dc x dp#dp x dc#dpxdc#dcxdp#danny phantom x dc#dp x dc crossover#ask#anon ask#selina kyle#poison ivy#harley quinn#dark danny#dan fenton#dan phantom#dick grayson#dick x dan#bad humor ship#dan in arkham au#ty for the ask!#not a lot of bad humor in this but lowkey I just wanted to write about Dan making friends lmao
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number one girl
"I'd give it all up if you told me that I'll be, the number one girl in your eyes"
₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊
[WORK IN PROGRESS!]
PAIRING. sunghoon x fem reader (best friends-to-lovers! au)
WARNINGS. profanity, (will be updated once complete)
WORD COUNT. (will be updated once complete)
SUMMARY. you always admired your best friend sunghoon. but when did that admiration turn into something...more?
DISC. this story is entirely fiction & does not reflect any real events of the idols mentioned.
AUTHOR'S NOTE. omfg this was so cheesy
pls give me feedback, i'd love to improve my writing so any and all critique is welcomed <3
you can still remember the first day you met sunghoon.
it was the first week of the semester at university and in physics class you were partnered up with jake, the handsome austrailian student (much to the other girls' dismay). although you of course could admit jake was very charming and handsome, you saw him as a lot more than that. he was smart and always patient to give you some extra tutoring when you didn't quite understand what was taught in lecture, genuinely kind, and it was so entertaining to see him never pass up a chance to show you a new picture of his dog layla.
jake invited you to his birthday party at an arcade that also had things like escape rooms and an ice skating rink. you've never met any of jake's friends before so you really didn't know what to expect but after some drinks and games in the arcade, it wasn't too hard to ease your initial nerves around the group of strangers.
"you HAVE to see sunghoon ice skate, i swear he's more coordinated on ice than walking on the ground..." wonyoung says to you as the group walks to the ice skating rink. she was one of the girls there that you got along with really well and she was super friendly right off the bat.
"really? huh... sorry i'm really bad with names, who's sunghoon again?" you nervously laugh to her.
she points to the dark haired boy laughing with heeseung as you all get in line to get you ice skates.
"he used to compete in international ice skating competitions...almost working towards olympic level. but he decided to drop competing to focus on his studies. don't let him try to convince you he just 'skates for fun'... you'll see what i mean," she had a lingering fondness in her eyes.
you couldn't help but to wonder what wonyoung meant but you got your skates and laced them on the benches lining the rink of ice.
"before we all get in the rink, i think it's only fair sunghoon gives a little show before we all totally eat shit on this ice" jake announces to the group, everyone laughing along with him.
your gaze falls on sunghoon, noticing the faint blush on his cheeks with all the attention now on him. you see his faint smile and waving his hands, declining jake.
"oh cmon sunghoon! please! some people here haven't seen you on the ice and you've been telling me you've been dying to skate again..." sunghoon finally gave in.
"fine fine, only because it's your birthday," sunghoon jokingly rolled his eyes. everyone cheered as you all gathered along the wall of the rink. the minute sunghoon started gliding along the ice, it was like a switch flipped. you felt like the person you were watching wasn't that shy boy you briefly met a few hours ago. his aura radiated a confidence but also a sense of comfort. you could feel his emotion with every turn and twirl. you could see his visible passion and love of skating. he was smiling so wide, his fangs poked out and you couldn't help but to smile as well. it was the kind of smile you wanted to stare at forever.
he was freestyling to whatever music that was playing over the speakers of the skating rink but you could tell he didn't need choreography to shine brighter than any of the white fluorescent lights in the building. you understood what wonyoung meant, he truly looked more comfortable on ice than on the ground—and you grew more and more curious about sunghoon.
when he concluded his impromptu performance, you all applauded and jake along with the other boys entered the rink cheering sunghoon on, hugging him and ruffling his hair. you entered the rink, you heart hammering out of your chest in nervousness and anxiousness. you've never ice skated before and you already knew you would make a total fool of yourself in front of everyone.
"wonyoung, i've never ice skated before...can i hang on to you?" she chuckled at your nervousness, finding you adorable.
"of course, here hang on to my arm until you get the hang of it. we can stay near the wall" the few circles you did around the rink was less you hanging on to wonyoung and more you having a death grip on the ledge of the wall—stopping every 2 feet feeling beyond imbalanced. you let go of wonyoung making a full stop.
"i'm gonna rest for a little bit, you can go hang out with the others" you stated trying to cover your labored breath.
"are you sure?" she questioned. "yeah! go for it! i'm just gonna take a breather, i'll join you in a sec" you reassured her. she gave you her signature sweet smile and skated towards the rest of the group.
after a few moments of watching the rest of the group from afar, you attempted to skate towards the center of the ice to join the rest of the group. without knowing still how to maintain your balance and the wall no longer within arms reach, you knees completely buckle under your weight. you were pretty much bracing for impact to have your hands and knees to collide with the harsh coldness of ice at your feet. before you could even fully comprehend it, you felt a pair of arms catching you, slightly easing your fall.
"woah that was a close one. are you okay?" it was sunghoon. his face was close to yours, close enough for gaze to fall on the concerned look in his dark orbs and the mole on his cheek and nose.
"y-yeah i'm fine! t-thanks for saving me, i totally ate shit." you joked, a cold sweat running down your spine in utter embarrassment.
"no worries, thankfully i got to you in time. and don't even worry about it, being on ice takes a ton of practice." his arm still holding onto yours helping you get up. he guides you both back to the wall.
"you're really good at ice skating by the way, like crazy good" he let out a soft chuckle at your compliment blushing. you knew he probably heard that a million times before.
"thank you, it's y/n right?" you nod.
"can i ask why you quit? wonyoung told me about how you used to compete but left to focus on school," the echos of the group's chatter and laugher being background noise to your conversation.
"yeah that's the main reason. i guess that's the simple explanation i give people..." his voice trailing, as if there's more to the story. you raise your eyebrows at him, hinting at him to keep explaining.
“it got pretty lonely in all honesty. competing i mean. i made friends through skating and stuff but when i trained and performed in a competition…i was alone through it all. it made me start to dislike the sport all together…” he sighed. “…and that was really hard for me. and i decided to step down from competing and just skate as a hobby now.”
he saw your solemn expression and reassured you the best way he could. “but it’s good now. truly. i think skating in a setting like this, with friends and just having fun healed my relationship with it.” you both looked out to the group, laughing in unison seeing ni-ki chase jake excitedly.
“basically the best way i can describe it being on the ice now feels like reuniting with an old friend…” sunghoon expresses, putting his hands in his jacket pockets.
“wow, i had no idea. thank you for telling me. for what it’s worth, i think you’re really brave.” you caught him tilting his head with a questioning look.
“well, i mean it takes a lot of courage to give up sometimes. especially something you put so much time and energy into…i feel like so many people think it's automatically a waste or a shame to give something up. but sometimes its just a redirection and sometimes its for the better.”
“y-yeah, exactly…” sunghoon looked at you stunned. you’re the first person to openly and fully understand his story and he didn’t even need to explain it to you his reasoning.
“i think you’re the first person who actually understands.”
you hummed in delight, smiling at him. “looks like we’ll get along pretty well”
“yeah i guess so” he smiles back.
you could feel the sincerity and warmth in his smile. it was different than the ones he gave you earlier. it was a smile you wanted to see again and again.
since that day at jake’s birthday, you and sunghoon have been inseparable. he was your best friend and you trusted him more than anyone else in the world.
he was reliable, he understood you in every way, and he accepted you even at your lowest—not judging you about your past.
you and sunghoon slept over at each other’s apartments all the time, even having each other’s a spare key.
sunghoon crashed at your place that previous night, you two pulling an all-nighter studying and your apartment being closer to campus than his. you two would sleep in each other’s bed but always staying on each other’s side—simply sleeping side by side, most of the time with your backs facing one another.
he had class earlier than you—his dreaded phone alarm going off, both of you stirring awake.
you pulled the covers over your head, groaning at the awful triggering sound of the alarm as sunghoon shut it off. he laughed quietly at your misery.
“hoon, why the fuck did you sign up for an 8am calculus class. who even voluntarily does that…”
"guess i'm a masochist," he sarcastically states, stretching and letting out a yawn. he reaches over your half-awake body, still covered by the blanket still to grab his glasses off your nightstand.
he basically puts all his body weight on top of you, borderline crushing you in the process dramatically reaching towards the table, a mischievous smirk on his face fully aware of his actions.
"hoon! ughhhh you're so annoying, you're crushing me" your voice muffled under the sheet. he laughs, amused by teasing you especially early in the morning when you're the grumpiest.
"sorry my bad" laughter still littering his voice. when you finally feel his weight off your body, you pull down the sheet from over your head.
you didn't realize sunghoon was still hovering over you, his arms on either side of your upper body. his gaze held something different in it, something you've never seen in his eyes before.
was there something in the air? were you starting to fall ill?
you and sunghoon joked around all the time and were in close proximity of each other all the time. maybe seeing each other at embarrassing moments one too many times, but this felt different.
the blue tint of the morning light peeking through your curtains illuminated his figure above you. the white tank top he always wore to sleep emphasized the contours of his defined arms, the thin silver chain adorning his collarbones reflected specs of light. and his messy hair and glasses wasn't helping your suddenly and unconsciously racing heart.
he was close. like really close. maybe too close for two people that were just friends. the air around you two felt thick and it was like you were holding your breath, maybe you were.
sunghoon slowly raised his hand, using his finger to brush a stray hair away from your face. and you swear his gaze wandered from your wide eyes to your lips. his touch lingered down to trace your jaw slightly.
he suddenly pulls away from your body, rising from the bed. he grabs his hoodie draped over your desk chair pulling it over his head and walking towards the bathroom—as if nothing had happened.
— should i continue writing?
taglist (open!):
@laylasbunbunny @blackberryrains @luv-jungwon106 @woniebae
@gudkc @enha-stars @dimplewonie
thank you so much for reading, please let me know what you think <3
reblogs, likes, comments & shares are always appreciated!!
#sunghoon x reader#sunghoon fanfic#enhypen fic#enha imagines#enha x reader#enhypen sunghoon#enhypen#enhypen ff#park sunghoon#enha#park sunghoon x reader
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congratulations on 200 !! You deserve all of em and many more♡ how about "forgive me, but I'm not feeling very patient right now." with Remus
Thank you!!!! I was debating between possessive Remus and protective Remus and went with possessive for the angst
Honeymoon phase
Remus Lupin x fem!reader
1.7k words
cw: angst, teeny bit of fluff, not happy ending (oopsie), Moony being possessive
The full moon was drawing near. You didn’t know its significance besides what theories you learned in Divination and Astronomy. It was just a phase of the moon for you, a marking of the passage of time. You didn’t know how it affected your new boyfriend.
It was a very new relationship that you were still adjusting to. Your friendship with Remus had started one day in the library as you worked on assignments at the same table. No words had been exchanged, but there were occasional glances and smiles. And then you both made a habit of sitting at that table. ‘Hellos’ and ‘see yous’ occurred and then you weren’t sitting on opposite ends of the table anymore, now sitting across from each other. That was followed with quiet small talk and questions by the homework, which slowly grew into banter and true friendship. It was good and fine until you started to feel yourself falling for him and his quiet mannerism. You hid it well, almost too well. Remus was beyond nervous when he asked if you would maybe, perhaps, feel free to say no, absolutely no worries, like to go to Hogsmeade with him. You had eagerly agreed and after that first Hogsmeade trip, you started to hang out outside of the library. Another Hogsmeade trip and he asked if you would want to be his girlfriend.
You were determined to not be one of those girls who completely abandoned their friends when they got a boyfriend. You liked Remus’ friends. They were nice to you and funny. Sure, they teased you and Remus but that’s what guys did. It’s what girls did too. Your friends would laugh when Remus called out for you and you would immediately gather your things so you could spend time with him.
Remus had been extra touchy this week. You didn’t mind. You assumed it was just him becoming more comfortable with your relationship and showing it off. He seemed to always have an arm around you or be holding your hand. He was glued to your side.
“Sit by me at dinner?” Remus whispers into your ear as you leave the library together.
His arm was around your shoulders, holding your firm into his side.
“We just spent all day together,” you say. “I was going to eat with my friends.”
He frowns. “Please, dove? I’ll miss you too much.”
Then he gives you a pouty face.
“Don’t give me that face, baby,” you coo, reaching up to squeeze his face.
He doesn’t relent.
“You know I can’t say no to that face.”
“That I do know,” he says.
“I’ll eat with you. I’ll just swing by and tell them when we get to the Great Hall.”
Remus beams and gives you a squeeze. You pull away from him once you two get there. You veer to where your friends are sitting and he goes to where his are. The obvious solution of having your friends sit with his wasn’t an option since yours weren’t a fan of the Marauders, having been victim to one too many pranks. While you hover around your friends, taking part in some conversation, Remus watches you.
“Mate, she’ll be here in a second,” Sirius says, reaching over the table to shove Remus’ shoulder.
“She said she’d just swing by. Why is she lingering?”
“Moony,” Sirius says calmly. “She’s talking to her friends.”
“It’s not like she’s sitting down and eating with them. Ah, see! Here she comes!” James says.
Remus’ face lights up as you say bye to your friends and turn to find Remus. Your friends are a bit disappointed that you’re eating with him again, but they chalk it up to being in love. The honeymoon phase, they called it. Once it wore off and you were just in a relationship, rather than a fresh relationship, you wouldn’t be so stuck on each other.
As soon as you sit down next to Remus, he places a kiss on your cheek and you giggle.
“Missed you,” he mumbles against your skin.
“I was barely gone, what, five? ten? minutes?”
“Doesn’t matter. Missed you.”
You shake your head with a smile. He was being dramatic, but, just like with the increased touching, you didn’t mind.
“Everything alright?” you ask the boys.
“Now you’re here, yes. Moony can stop moping,” Peter says.
“I don’t think you’re allowed to leave his side,” Sirius teases.
You laugh, thinking they’re being as dramatic as Remus. “Ah, too bad we’re our own people. Right, Remus?”
Remus gives you a weak smile but squeezes your hand.
“Yeah,” he says softly.
“Have any of you done that Charms essay yet? I need someone other than Remus to read it,” you ask the table. You’d ask your friends but with how brief your visit to the group was, you didn’t want to bring up homework.
“Yeah, I can read it. Remus go too easy on you?”
“He’s convinced I’m a genius.”
“Because you are!” Remus protests.
“And so are you, but I still read your essays and actually give notes.”
He shakes his head. “Your essay doesn’t need notes.”
“Guess I’m the new judge of that,” James says with a smirk.
Remus shoots a brief glare at James for suggesting that your work needs comments. He feels a burning in his chest. He wants to tell James to not bother reading your essay; it was perfect as it is. Remus wants to tell James that you don’t need him for anything, you have Remus and that’s all you need.
“Mate, you good?” Sirius asks as he gives Remus a swift kick under the table.
Remus tilts his head far enough to the side to crack it. “Yeah. I’m good.”
“Yeah, okay.”
You look from Sirius to Remus and back to Sirius. A small look of confusion crosses your face. It disappears as quickly as it appears though. Peter takes control of the conversation by complaining about the most recent Herbology assignment and how Professor Sprout was just giving them busy work. You agree with him. The worksheets she’s been handing out are almost as bad as when professors assign you to copy passages straight out of the textbook.
Remus puts a hand on your knee and gives it a squeeze. You give him a smile. It was nice to feel him be so comfortable with you. And it wasn’t like he was showing you off with this simple gesture. It was more of a grounding touch, like he just needed to touch you to know that you were there because of him and you wouldn’t be going anywhere. And that’s why you smiled.
You think it’s all romantic. The touching and small bit of possessiveness that he’s been showing. Your friends’ description of it being the honeymoon phase supports it. But it increases. It gets to the point where he practically has an iron grip on you at all times. His touches are more firm and he’s never the first to let go or pull back. You had to physically remove his arm from around you so you could use the loo. You could feel yourself growing a bit agitated.
Once again, he insisted that you eat dinner with him, rather than your friends. You protested, saying you hadn’t seen much of your friends, but then he pouted. Your weakness. So you relented and ate with the boys. You suggest a walk after dinner. Just to get some fresh air. Remus likes the idea. He likes spending time alone with you, and walks are romantic.
His stomach sinks when your friends call out your name as you’re about to leave the Great Hall with him.
“Rems, I’ll be right back!” you say, dropping his hand and hurrying over to your friends.
He watches you go, anger boiling his blood. Why did you need to go talk to them all the time? Couldn’t you just spend time with him? Could your friends not see you were going somewhere with him?
A hand clamps down on his shoulder, bringing him out of his thoughts and forcing his blood to simmer down.
“You sure you’re good?” Sirius asks, giving him a stern look.
“Yes, Padfoot. I’m fine.”
“You know the full moon’s tomorrow night, yeah?”
“Yes, Padfoot.”
“As long as you know…”
Remus returns to staring at you as Sirius walks away with James and Peter. He’s too focused on you to hear their muttering about his behavior. It was his first full moon with a girlfriend. Certainly his neediness toward you was connected.
You’re still talking to your friends. The conversation is getting louder by the second and you’re laughing. He can’t take it. He was promised a nice, romantic walk with you and here you are, wasting time. He stalks up to you and throws a casual arm around your shoulders, like he always does.
“Ready to go, love?” he asks.
“Just one second, Remus. Be patient.” Your tone is light and airy. You’re enjoying the gossip your friends had to share with you before you disappeared off with Remus until it was curfew.
“Forgive me, but I’m not feeling very patient right now,” Remus growls into your ear.
You shirk away from his arm, turning your whole body toward him. Your friends give the two of you questioning looks.
“Excuse me?”
“Just, let’s go.”
“No,” you say firmly. “I’m talking to my friends and I asked you to be patient.”
“I have been.”
You scoff. “No, you haven’t.”
“Love, come on. Let’s just go.”
“I’m not going anywhere. You can go.” Your expression turns to hurt. “And don’t bother talking to me when you are feeling patient again. I don’t think I’ll have anything to say to you.”
Remus stares at you. Confusion is etched into his scarred features. When he doesn’t move, you give your friends a look before turning to walk away. They follow you, each giving Remus looks of confusion greater than his. They didn’t understand what caused you to snap but you had just broken up with Remus. They are shocked that the relationship didn’t make it out of the honeymoon phase.
#marauders fic#marauders#marauder-misprint#remus lupin fic#remus lupin#request#remus lupin x you#remus lupin x reader
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Pretending (Pt. 2)
Aitana Bonmatí x Reader
Word Count: 986
Part One
[WOSO Masterlist]
“Do you want to get married?”
You’re soaking in the sun, a welcome change from the cloudy skies of Manchester when Aitana pops the question.
You crack open an eye. “Are you talking to me?”
“Who else would I be talking to?”
She says it with the most serious face that you start questioning if you’re the crazy one here.
“Are you asking me what my thoughts are about marriage in general or marriage between us?”
Aitana doesn’t have to say anything, she only gives you a look.
You sigh, propping yourself up on an arm so you can face Aitana when having this conversation. “We’re not even dating.”
Aitana shrugs. “If it matters that much to you we can give it a day.”
It’s such a ridiculous proposition that you can’t do anything but laugh. “So what? We can tell our children we dated for a day before we got married?”
This time she grins, finger drifting to hook around your own. “Time doesn’t matter. We both know whatever this is, whatever we are, it’s been going on far longer than a day.”
You’ve been back in Barcelona for close to a year now. The two of you picked up right where you left off, spending almost all of your waking moments with one another. Even when night comes round, it’s rare to find you sleeping apart.
Ona calls you both codependent idiots, Ingrid calls it something sweet, all you know is that it works for the two of you and although you’re not dating, it’s a life you can find yourself getting used to.
When the break came around and Ona announced she was going somewhere tropical with Lucy, Aitana was quick to make some plans for just the two of you.
You didn’t question it much, happy to just spend time with the girl you’ve been pining after for years.
At first everything was normal. Sure, Aitana’s been a bit more sentimental than usual, opting to reminisce about your childhood adventures or bring up the unofficial first dates of yours from all those years ago. But you don’t think too much about it, choosing instead to focus on not ogling all of the skin on display as Aitana’s primary activity these past couple days have consisted of nothing but sunbathing.
It’s not like you haven’t caught Aitana eyeing you up and down a couple of times too, but it’s different between the two of you. You’re still patiently waiting for Aitana to drop the pretense that you’re anything more than just friends, hence the respect you’ve been giving (though if she continues wearing two-pieces and hanging off your arm all day every day you might have to catch an early flight home before you combust). Aitana on the other hand… well you’re not really sure what she’s doing.
Though you can probably conclude that she’s not pretending anything anymore if she’s asking for your hand in marriage.
“I love you.”
Though her words fill you with warmth, you can’t help but frown at her sudden change in demeanor. Just three days ago when you were still surrounded by your teammates in Barcelona, Aitana cracked a joke about loving you when hell froze over --- though you probably deserved that comment after you let Mapi convince you to dunk her socks in the ice bucket. Although she’s affectionate with you, she’s never this affectionate.
“Aita, what’s going on?” you sit up, taking care to scoop Aitana’s hand into yours.
The smile slips off her face as her eyes drop, fingers nervously tapping by her side.
It’s automatic, the way your free hand rises, rubbing at the furrow between her brows.
Aitana melts into your touch, face leaning forward until your hand has no choice but to cup her cheek.
“It’s just me. Nothing to be afraid of,” you murmur, trying to prompt Aitana to speak her mind.
Aitana looks lost in thought for a moment. She bites at her lip before letting out the longest sigh known to man. “Aren’t you ever going to get tired waiting for me?”
You’re not able to stop the laugh that bubbles past your lips. “If that’s what you’re afraid of, you have nothing to worry about. I’m in this for the long run, even if that means waiting for you until we’re gray and old. I’m happy with what we are right now as long as you’re happy too.”
“But what if I’m ready now?”
You blink, not expecting the sureness behind her voice. There’s a slight fire in Aitana’s eyes, the midfielder looking like she’d move mountains just for you to understand how serious she is.
“I know I’ve always put football first but you have always been the one thing I’ve wanted to commit to. You’ve been so patient with me, loving me when I never gave you a reason to. You bring me up when I’m sad, give me reasons to smile when I just want to cry, you’re what I love falling asleep to every night, and seeing your face when I wake up just fills me up with joy.”
Your eyes flutter shut when she leans forward to press her head against yours. You can feel her breath running hot against your lips and it takes everything in you to not bridge the gap.
“I love the way you know me and I love the way you’re you.”
When your lips finally meet there’s no other way to describe the kiss than perfect. It’s short and sweet but it’s everything you’ve been waiting for.
“I love you. So much.”
Aitana’s giving you a teary grin when you open your eyes, and you can’t do anything but smile right back at her.
“So will you marry me?”
---
Ona’s eyes nearly fall out of her head when she sees the matching bands on your fingers when you stroll into the locker room a week later.
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It's finally here, all 7k words of it 👀 Thank you for everyone who read chapter 1, and waited so patiently!
[ch1]
Birds and Bees - Ch.2
Rolan isn't usually the type to accept help. In his defense, Tav is very persuasive—and he is very, very desperate.
Tags: Tailplay, Oral Sex, Biting, NSFW | Word Count: 7.7k [Read on AO3]
Rolan didn’t appear again for the rest of the day.
After their awkward exchange this morning, Tav felt she might be somewhat to blame. She tried to recall the bits of Tiefling etiquette she’d picked up from the Elturians; perhaps touching his tail had crossed some sort of line? Either way, the gesture seemed unthinkably forward to her now.
Then again…Rolan was the one who’d coiled his tail across her desk like that, its tip nearly brushing her hand as she wrote. She’d never seen him do anything like it before. If she didn't know him so well, she’d have found the move almost flirtatious.
At shop’s close, Cal took charge of locking up the front. Tav caught sight of the large iron keyring he carried and realized that it must be Rolan’s. So his brother had checked in on him today, at least—that gave her a modicum of relief.
Lia pitched in to help wipe down all her equipment and carefully fill the many waiting bottles with her cooled elixir. Tav held her tongue from repeating any of the worries she’d made after Rolan during the day—but it seemed her silence was just as damning.
“Stop fussing,” Lia repeated firmly. “Rolan’s just overdue for a rest. I mean, you saw his face.”
“I did.” Rolan had never been the type to slow down or show weakness easily. To Tav, the fact that he’d willingly taken himself to bed worried her more than anything. “Just promise you won't let him turn down a healer if he needs one?”
“If it comes to that, which it won't,” Lia said down to her work. “I promise we’ll find someone, okay?”
Tav kept her tone teasing as she packed away the sealed bottles in their crate. “Hmm, yes…if only you already knew someone with some knowledge of healing.”
Lia let out a bark of laughter. “Trust me, you’re the last person Rolan wants to see right now.”
The sting of those words took Tav by surprise herself. Lia caught their edge too; she pulled up with a grimace, letting a few drops of antidote dribble onto the desk. “Shit, Tav, I didn't mean it like that.”
“It’s okay,” Tav replied, making a fuss of sealing up the filled crate. The thought made her feel rather less than okay, which she didn't want Lia to see. “I think—I don’t know. I feel like I did something rude today, anyway.”
“Oh?” Lia’s tone was light, but she allowed a conspicuous pause to stretch between them. Tav pushed through a twinge of embarrassment to turn to face her.
“Lia, what would you think if I touched your tail?”
Lia glanced up with an eyebrow cocked. “What, right now?”
“No, just—say I did by accident.”
Lia straightened to take a thoughtful inhale. “I mean…it depends on the context. You and I are friends, I wouldn’t think much of it. Unless you grabbed it up by my backside or something,” she added with a laugh. “It wouldn’t be a big deal. If I’m walking somewhere crowded, lots of people might brush against it unless I’m careful.”
Tav had moved around to reset the rest of her clean glassware as she listened, feeling marginally relieved by the explanation.
Then Lia paused her work again. “Are you saying you touched Rolan’s tail?
“You what now?”
With impeccable timing, Cal skidded to a stop at the edge of the conversation, a heavy lockbox under one arm.
Tav glanced between the two of them. “Yes?” The word came out as a question somehow; her mouth went dry as they stared at her. “Like you said, I didn't think it was a big deal. He laid it on my desk while I was working, so I just kind of—” She mimed a little picking-up motion with her hand.
The siblings exchanged a significant look with each other.
“What?” Tav felt her face burning and knew the color must be noticeable to either of them. “How does it being Rolan’s tail make it different?”
Cal turned back to her with a frown. “What do you mean he laid it on your desk?”
“I don't know, damn—clearly I’m no expert!” She flailed her arms out a bit. “I just turned around and it was sitting there by my hand, all right?”
Another shared glance.
“That explains it,” Cal decided. It earned him a swift pinch on the arm from his sister. “Ow, hey—”
Tav looked between them again, trying to translate. “Explains what? Seriously, if I offended Rolan somehow, I want to kn—”
“You didn’t,” Lia cut in firmly. “This one here's just an idiot. It’s harder to control your tail when you're sick or tired, and Rolan’s been both, that’s all. I'm sure it was a mistake. And he shouldn't have minded you moving it,” she finished with a decisive nod.
With that, Lia snatched up the filled crate from her with one arm and grabbed her brother’s sleeve with the other. Cal stumbled slightly as she pulled him along, but he wisely held his tongue as they headed for the back stockroom. The hinges creaked shut behind them both.
Tav was left standing alone in the cavernous interior of Sorcerous Sundries, beside the desks that she and Rolan used to comfortably share—not sure if she should feel better or worse.
—
The next morning, Rolan was once again nowhere to be found.
He hadn’t even conjured his projection the way he usually did when occupied with research in the Tower. It was a shame; the shop was unusually busy by midday, and Cal and Lia worked without pause. When she could, Tav left her alchemy just to lend a hand with customers or make runs to the supply room.
She found herself worried to the point of irritation. Was Rolan really so stubborn that he wouldn’t take a potion? Or accept healing from someone he’d claimed was a trusted friend and colleague? She tried and failed not to be hurt by it.
Then again, Rolan had always been the type to shoulder his way through awful things alone while firmly turning down help—particularly from her. His apprenticeship, most recently. The memory made her radiantly angry on his behalf even now.
“Shit—”
Tav jerked away from the flask and sucked on her freshly scalded thumb. She must have the ratios off again; this recipe wasn’t new to her, but the nuances had escaped her all morning. These sublimates shouldn’t get nearly so hot when mixed.
Might as well admit defeat and review the recipe before she wasted yet another bunch of black oleander. Surely there was a reference text somewhere in Rolan’s library?
Tav glanced around to the front of the shop. Cal was recording a sale at the front desk; Lia was chatting with a very large half-orc over near the conjurement runes. Things seemed well enough in hand. Tav damped the flame at her station and quietly took the stairs for the portal.
For lack of a better word: the library of Ramazith’s Tower was absolutely magical.
Tav stood breathing in the quiet afternoon sunlight, taking an appreciative look up around her. The collection must be the best one this side of Candlekeep, with all sorts of books on spellcraft, Weave theory, alchemy, religion, the history of Toril—just to scratch the surface. She could think of no hands more deserving than the ones its ownership had fallen into.
Just as Lia mentioned the other day, Rolan had clearly been hard at work reorganizing the place. She ran her fingertips over the books’ spines as she walked around the perimeter of the main floor.
She imagined Rolan with his robe sleeves pushed to his elbows, enthusiastically at work in his book stacks, and bit back a grin. There was something so endearing about his passion for taming disorder. As she walked, she found her gaze drifting to the delicate staircase at the far end of the main floor. It spiraled upward invitingly.
She’d never been to the upper floors of Ramazith’s Tower—nothing past the library. Certainly she hadn’t stepped foot in any of the private quarters of Rolan or his siblings. She wouldn’t even know which door led to whose.
But her mind wandered readily at the thought of Rolan’s bedroom. What it might look like…smell like.
No doubt it was packed with shelves of books and scrolls, filled with the scent of fresh parchment and leather-bound volumes. That warm, bookish smell that seemed to be woven into his robes. The fresh hint of cedar from the way he kept his clothes meticulously cleaned and stored. And that other faint spice that she could never identify, but always picked up when he stood close to her.
The same scent that had filled her lungs with dizzy pleasure when he’d hovered close to her yesterday, chin brushing her shoulder and arm circled possessively around her waist—
She bit her lip as heat pooled between her legs at the memory. She couldn't help it—how very fucking nice it had been to feel Rolan’s elegant hands on her, casually and effortlessly touching, as if he was accustomed to touching her much more often and much more intimately.
It would do no good to dwell on that moment. If anything, the uncharacteristic gesture was just proof of how out-of-sorts Rolan must be feeling. He was her friend, and by all accounts, he’d been too sick to leave his room for days.
With a sudden burst of determination and a disregard for the consequences, she strode for the stairs.
Taking the curving ascent so rapidly left her dizzy. Tav planted her boots on the landing for a moment, holding onto the railing while she took in her surroundings.
This upper hall was also quietly sunlit, filled with fine carpeting and oak paneled walls; but the atmosphere was somehow less grand than the cavernous library below. More intimate.
Two doors stood on both ends of the hall. Hazarding a guess, she stepped to the closest one on her left. Its heavy oak panels swung forward with the slightest touch.
Not a bedroom at all, but a bath—and a tremendously fine one at that. All the fixtures seemed to be wrought from polished gold. Underneath a towering stained glass window stood the deepest, widest clawfoot tub she’d ever seen.
As she gazed around, Tav caught sight of her reflection in a large glass above the sinks. Her hair was all frizzy flyaways from a day over her potion work. Indulging a bit of vanity, she paused to tame it with her fingers.
One of Rolan’s many endearing habits was his dedication to fastidiousness. Never a hair out of place, horns polished and shining, robes immaculately pressed—knowing him, with a bit of the Weave.
She must look like some sort of wild hedge witch by comparison. Tav had never minded life in the wilds as a wayward adventurer, even after the Elder Brain was felled to the Chionthar. It was part of what drew her to the career of a traveling alchemist.
But there were moments…most of them in this Tower, with Rolan and his siblings. Sharing a meandering dinner at a real table with actual chairs. Sitting with Rolan out on the starlit balcony, discussing blood alchemy over a glass of wine as they watched the harbor.
Tav forced her hands still and stared back at her reflection.
“What do you want?” She muttered to herself. The Tav in the mirror had no answer. But in her mind, one softly bloomed.
Over the past months, her feelings had tumbled forward faster than she could keep up with them. Seeing Rolan, talking with him about anything and everything, working beside him in quiet moments—she found those were the moments she looked forward to most.
His offer to turn one of the Tower’s empty vaults into a greenhouse for her. Essentially giving her a permanent place in his home, if she wanted it. Was it stupid to hope that he wanted more, too?
As she stood frozen silent in the confines of her lavish surroundings, a muffled sound came from her right.
She hadn't noticed the second door past the bathtub; presumably connecting to one of the bedrooms. She realized it most likely led to Rolan’s.
She stepped toward the heavy oak paneling and raised a hand to knock. As she did, more muffled noises came from within. Tav hesitated, questioning whether she should—then leaned in to press one ear to the wood.
There were the sounds of labored breathing, as if from pain or exertion. She strained her ear harder. There was something almost…rhythmic in it.
And then—she could swear—she heard Rolan's voice groan her name aloud.
A shock of heat ran through her chest, prickling up her neck and diving between the cleft of her legs. The rapid, hot ache at her core made her gasp out in surprise, then clap a hand to her mouth lest he heard. She felt her cheeks burning with realization.
Whatever she had expected to find by wandering up here…this had never been on the list. All she saw in her mind’s eye was Rolan, sweating and panting and desperate. And that thought filled her with overwhelming want in response.
Tav pushed herself back from the door with a jolt. She turned and ran, not knowing or caring whether the ring of her footsteps on tile carried past the door. Her pulse pounded against her ears as she rushed out of the room and back for the staircase.
Even before Tav’s foot hit the third stair, she knew she was headed for the Elfsong. And a very stiff fucking drink.
—
Day passed to night and back to day again in a feverish jumble. Like a vessel adrift in a vast ocean, Rolan was passed along wave after wave of searing impulse.
Had his ruts always been this overwhelming, and he’d just forgotten? Or was there something different about the drives this time around?
Even the little dignities were stripped away, one by one. He began by conjuring mage hands at first, but his concentration faltered too many times at the cusp. He finally just settled for his own grip. Desperate sounds rose in his chest each time he neared his next finish, the likes of which he’d never utter voluntarily.
And he quickly gave up on clothes altogether. He lay naked and spread-eagle on his sheets and tried to sleep when he could, before his demanding cock inevitably twitched back to life again. The fever turned his dreams shockingly lewd whenever he did manage to drift off.
By sunset, another strong wave of need was pulsing through his core, demanding his attention. Rolan lay back against his pillows and groaned open-mouthed as he stroked himself.
Even slick with oil, the friction between his hand and the raw, overstimulated ridges of his cock bordered on painful. His finish danced out of reach to the back of his mind.
With an impatient growl, he flipped over to his knees and snatched up a feather pillow, folding it into a sleeve for his cock. A crude solution—but with his first few thrusts, the cool softness of the silk caused a moan of relief to rise in his throat. He squeezed his eyes shut as he fucked his own pillow in a desperate chase for relief.
And behind his eyelids, there she was again.
Tav appeared there so easily now. He’d tried to fight it at first—ashamed to be using her like this, without her knowledge or consent—but he found that nothing satisfied his urges so well as when he pictured her on his cock.
So he closed his eyes and imagined Tav…pliant, eager, hungry. Legs spread and center dripping with desire for him. The shameful depth of his need faded away as he fantasized her own. How her eyes might shine as she panted and gasped under him, calling him by name and begging him to fuck her and fill her and mark her as his—
What would she sound like as he took her? He conjured the timbre of her voice, always warm and musical, now canting to a whine as the ridges at his base slammed against her with each thrust.
Pressure coiled rapid and hot at his loins. Rolan slid off the mattress with legs braced, the pillow cast aside, and tugged frantically at his stiff length again. His tail arched and flicked behind him.
Through clenched eyelids he saw Tav laid at the foot of his bed, hair splayed in a messy crown against his sheets as she cried out his name. Her legs crossed behind his flanks to hold him deep inside her tight wet heat—
‘Rolan—’ She moaned louder, her heels digging into his lower back as he took her. Tav gripped two handfuls of the bedding underneath as he thrust relentlessly, chasing more of her heat around his cock, more of the delicious scent at her throat and between her legs—
“Rolan!”
“Fuck—” With a strangled gasp, Rolan’s hips stuttered one last time as his come spilled in ropes to the floor. Panting and shaking, he caught hold of the bed post with one hand as he frantically worked out the rest of his finish with the other. His head spun with the force of it.
But as he opened his eyes and his vision cleared, so did that cottony feeling in his ears. Someone was rapping insistently on the door to his room.
“Rolan, we need to talk—” Even muffled by the heavy wood, Tav’s voice was unmistakable.
“Fuck,” Rolan hissed again, this time with enough wits about him to panic. How much of that last performance could she hear through the door? He snatched up the nearest towel to wipe himself, then tripped away toward the pile of clothes on the floor that had lain untouched since yesterday.
“Go away,” he called tersely, nevertheless yanking the trousers up over his hips. Thank hells that last round had left him soft enough he could do up the laces for now.
On the other side of the door, she was undeterred. “I’m not leaving till I’ve seen you.”
Rolan cursed as one of his horns snagged the ties at the neck of his shirt. Once the fabric dropped over his torso, he whirled around to take in the state of his room.
Bedsheets pulled sideways from the mattress; pillows strewn across the floorboards; air thick with the smell of him. Absolute filthy shambles.
Using a rush of energy he couldn't afford, he cast a mass prestidigitation spell on the space. The improvement in the air was immediate. But the resulting light-headedness caused him to stumble forward; he caught himself with a hand braced on the door frame.
“I'm not joking,” Tav called loudly, unaware he was now much closer.
He could have yelled at her to wait outside for another week, then, if he wasn't so sure she was stubborn enough to actually do so. After all, this was the person who’d defeated an Elder Brain and taken on several gods in the process.
That…and he found he badly wanted to see Tav in the flesh. Hearing her voice from just beyond his bedroom door only increased that desire. Rolan’s tail lashed behind him in helpless frustration.
“What do you want?” He asked instead, lowering his voice. No use broadcasting any more of this conversation to the whole Tower.
There was a pause on the other side of the oak paneling. “I’ve barely seen you since I got here,” Tav’s voice replied, matching his volume.
“And?”
“And I'm worried about you…obviously,” she added. “Cal and Lia said you’re sick. But I’d feel better if we could talk face to face.” Even through the barrier between them, he could hear a strain in her voice. She wasn't lying.
Rolan rested his horns against his braced forearm with a sigh. “Tav, I swear I'm perfectly fine.”
“Then just open the door a moment. Please, Rolan?”
It was far too pleasant to hear her say his name outside of his own imaginings. Rolan glanced down at himself. Barefoot, shirt untucked, but technically presentable. And not pitching a tent for once in the past twenty-four hours.
“If I do, will you leave?”
There was another pause. “If you want me to,” came the reply. He unbolted the latch and drew it open to shoulder width.
The wave of Tav’s scent hit him almost before he registered her face in front of him. The sweetness of it overwhelmed his other senses for a moment. It tested all Rolan’s limited reserves of sanity not to grab her by the waist and pull her body against him.
Unaware of the silent struggle raging in his chest, Tav stood with face tilted up toward his. Her eyes had traveled over his figure immediately, checking him over with a worried little crease between her brows. Something at the side of his head caught her eye; Rolan realized his hair hung loose and rather sweaty, exposing the slender tips of his ears.
Her demeanor changed at the sight. Tav sighed, leaning her head against the flat of the door.
“You’re even handsome with a fever,” she told him softly.
Rolan blinked at her. Perhaps exhaustion and hormones were driving him to hallucinations. “What are you—”
Faster than he could react, her palms landed on either side of his face, and Tav pulled his mouth down to hers.
A burst of colors exploded behind his eyes; the sensation of her lips moving on his kindled the dormant heat in his body to wild blaze. She notched her hands upward as she kissed him, and her fingers slid up along the sensitive tapers of both his ears.
Rolan let out a hungry, animal sound against her mouth. Both hands landed on her back and crushed the line of her body forward into his, leaving no space between them. He could feel the soft hills of her breasts pressing against his chest through clothing. The warm scent rolling off her skin and hair surrounded him with dizzying force.
The higher part of his mind was screaming at him. Rolan desperately tried to focus on what it was saying; as he did, he caught the tang of wine on her lips. The discovery gave him just enough will to pull back from her.
And he did, with one jerking step back into his chambers. “You can’t be here.”
Tav stood panting through parted lips, eyes half-lidded as they traveled over him. Rolan felt flames lick his skin everywhere they moved.
“Why not?” She breathed. “I wanted to see you.”
“You’re drunk,” he told her. He rather felt that way himself, still reeling from the electricity of kissing her.
Tav pouted at that, and Rolan wished to bite that lower lip firmly between his teeth. “I’m not drunk,” she corrected. “I’ve had a drink. There’s a difference.”
“You wouldn’t be here if—”
“If what?” Tav watched him as she took a step closer. Rolan stepped back in tandem, reflexive. She was well over the threshold now. “If I knew what was really happening to you?”
Those words sounded much more knowing than he liked. Rolan stared at her, trying to read into her face. He swallowed against the dry lump of his tongue and went out on a limb. “Which one of them told you?”
Tav shook her head. “Cal and Lia have been nothing but discreet.”
“Then how could you possibly understand?” He demanded. The very recent discovery of how soft Tav’s lips were was making it very difficult to maintain this conversation. He could still feel the way her body had pressed into him.
One corner of her mouth twitched. “Rolan, I’d like to think I’m not completely oblivious. There have been…signs. And I’ve had a lot of time to think about them. I’ve been at the Elfsong all afternoon, just—thinking.”
At that, Rolan felt his tail twitching nervously behind him. “I see,” he replied. Pivoting, like an idiot, trying to pretend this was a perfectly acceptable conversation to have with the woman who occupied most of his thoughts when he was pleasuring himself. “And you think that I—that my—”
Tav made a quick twisting motion to get around the door. She latched it and drew the bolt closed behind them, then turned back to him.
“A lot of humans have heard rumors about Tieflings,” she confessed. “Some stupid, but some credible. I’m saying this is maybe not the secret that you think it is.” As he watched, a much deeper blush spread over Tav’s cheeks. She glanced away to the side.
“Rolan…I grew up in the Dales, remember? Around rabbits, and cattle, and oxen. Half my friends lived on farms.”
Her analogy couldn’t be clearer. To hear her lay it out so plainly—Rolan felt the last dregs of his pride shrivel up and die. He gripped two palms over his eyes and let out a groan of abject humiliation, turning away to the middle of the room.
How early had she connected the dots? The moment she felt him brazenly place a hand around her? Had she known all along that he was locked up here, rutting into every one of his pillows?
“Look, Rolan, I’m sorry—I didn’t know how else to say it—”
Completely overwhelmed by his embarrassment, he hadn’t heard her follow. When Rolan finally dropped his hands from his face, he turned to find Tav standing very close to his chest.
“And I’m sorry for kissing you before,” she blurted out. “I mean, I’m not sorry for it…I’ve wanted to do that for a long time, to be honest. But it wasn’t fair. I just…wanted to know how you’d react.”
Rolan watched as her chest rose and fell heavily where she stood. The look in her eyes made his blood pound through his veins. He felt an urge to reach out and smooth back her hair to bring her in for another kiss, one he resisted.
“I care about you,” Rolan told her, before he could lose his nerve. “Our friendship. I respect you, Tav, it’s not worth—muddying things with this.”
He felt fingers lacing through the ones that hung at his side, and despite his words Rolan tightened his grip automatically. Her hand was so pleasantly cool against the heat of his skin.
“Why do you think I’m here?” Tav answered earnestly. “I care about you, too. If I can help, I want to. Please—”
She was so close to him; Rolan breathed shallowly, but the warm scent rolling off her skin and hair nevertheless swept past him with dizzying force.
“You don’t know what you’re offering,” he managed hoarsely.
She didn’t falter. “Then tell me what else you think I should know.”
His senses were growing clouded with her; the offer that had tumbled so easily from her rang in his ears. It made the thread of Rolan’s control stretch dangerously taut.
“I won’t be gentle,” he warned.
His inadvertent shift in tone changed something in the air between them. There was a crackling energy that hadn't been there a second before.
Tav licked her lips as she watched him. “Good.”
Rolan thought he might melt from the heat that spread across his skin. His tail snapped against the mattress behind him. If she moved a step closer, she’d feel how hard he was in his pants.
“Mating bites,” he went on hoarsely. “I’ll mark you. Quite a lot. I’ll try not to draw blood, but…I can’t promise it.”
Tav nodded. “What else?” She asked, encouraging him to go on.
Rolan swallowed against the embarrassment. But this was important for her to know. “This time for us, it’s all about…reproduction. We become quite virile.” He nearly choked, but there was simply no other way to put it. “For the urges to pass quicker, I need to come in you.”
Tav let out a throaty hum of approval. His cock twitched in his pants at the sound. “That’s fine, I take preventatives—it’s safe.”
They stood looking at each other for another moment. That shivery, electric feeling buzzed in the air around them. Rolan wondered if she could hear the way his heart drummed against his ribs.
Tav leaned in slightly. “Well…” She said, and her wet tongue passed nervously between her lips again.
That taut thread in his chest snapped in two. Rolan crushed her up against him with a whimper. Arms circling around her waist, he nudged a thigh between her legs and firmly ground their hips together.
Tav matched his eagerness. Their lips crashed together; at the back of his mind, he felt her grip cradling under each of his ears. Her fingertips licked like flame against his scalp.
Even through layers of clothing, he could feel the heat of her. Rolan jerked her hips forward harder against his thigh; the swelling length of his cock pressed against her soft, yielding center. Tav dipped her head back from the kiss, arching into him with a moan, and her fingertips laced at the nape of his neck.
It offered an irresistible angle at the column of her throat. Rolan’s claws raked back in her hair, pulling it to a tight ponytail. Then he tugged firmly, holding her open as his mouth descended on her neck.
He kissed and sucked along the band of muscle from her ear to the curve of her shoulder, then parted his lips to bite down firmly on her soft flesh.
“Yes,” Tav moaned in approval above him. Her hips rolled into his, grinding herself against the hard cock straining in his pants. Rolan felt her pulse skip against his mouth. Only when he tasted sweet copper did he pull away, laving his tongue over the crimson pin-pricks of his teeth into her skin.
He took only a moment to admire the trail of marks blooming along her neck. Tav was already pulling him in for another kiss. Their lips crashed together with bruising force; her tongue explored, tasting, searching for proof of her blood against his tongue and moaning against him when she found it.
Her scent filled his mind. Without breaking from her mouth, he plucked open the laces of her pants. Rolan slipped his hand under the waistband, beneath her smalls, and slid two fingers to dip down between her legs. Her folds were shining-slick; as he nudged her in circles, a trickle of her arousal rolled down his fingers. She shivered prettily under his touch.
“You’re soaked,” Rolan groaned against her neck.
“All because of you,” she breathed without hesitation. “Been wanting this, gods, wanting you for months. Your hands on me—cock in me—”
At the words he withdrew his fingers from her impatiently, then sucked them clean. Her sweet taste on his tongue made his cock ache. She scarcely had time to curse at the sight before Rolan gripped both arms around her waist to lift her into him.
With one quick pivot, he landed her down on the bed with his frame pressed into her. Her legs hung off the edge from the hip down, and he used the position to grind the stiff length in his pants against her cleft.
Even fully clothed, it was maddening. He could feel the wet patch between her legs, and when she arched further into him, a primal growl rumbled in his chest.
Tav’s fingers were brushing at his sides, tugging at the hem of his shirt. “Off,” she panted impatiently.
Rolan tilted back to rip the garment up over his horns, immediately reaching for her own once his was free. He stripped her frantically, ripping her smallclothes in two before he could work them down her thighs.
When she lay bare beneath him, moaning and arching into everywhere he touched, he was overcome with hunger for more of her taste.
Rolan gripped her hips, dragging her with a jerk to the edge of the bed. With her glistening folds displayed before him, all he could do was drop to his knees and bury his tongue between them.
The sounds she made were like sweet music as he explored her. He sucked and massaged her slit with his tongue, then plunged it as deep within her walls as he could. His eyes rolled back in his head. Her taste surrounded him; his nose brushed her clit as he ate her, further overwhelming his senses with the scent of her arousal.
“Gods, yes, Rolan—” Tav moaned above him as her hands flew to grip each of his horns. She alternately tugged them and arched into his mouth, grinding her clit against his face.
He wanted to hear her say his name like that another thousand times. Rolan curled his tongue against her walls, determined to taste her even deeper, but to no avail. Without his sharp nails, he would have sunk two fingers into her.
Instead, as his mouth left her, the ridged end of his tail looped around to brush over her slit.
“Ah—” Tav gasped from the bed. One of her hands left him to prop up on an elbow to look.
He watched her face in adoration as his tail slid between her soaked lips, coating itself in a mixture of her arousal and his saliva. Once it was thoroughly wet, he let the heart-shaped tip push experimentally into her.
Whatever hesitation he had evaporated at the way she arched and keened. He pushed in further, inch by inch, hissing in breath at how tight and wet her walls squeezed around him. Rolan felt his cock leaking between his legs at the sight of his tail disappearing into her plush cunt.
“Taking my tail so well,” Rolan praised without thinking, then groaned. “Fuck, Tav, you’re so tight—”
“Don’t stop,” she demanded, breathless.
When he felt the tip brush the limits of her insides, he held it steady as she panted down at him. Her mouth hung open in anticipation as she watched him lean in again for her center.
But instead of landing on her clit, his mouth met with the soft skin of her inner thigh and sucked it firmly between his teeth.
Tav gave a little yelp of pain, but her walls constricted around his tail so hard he moaned against her flesh. He left two more lovely red marks against her thigh before withdrawing his tail from her, leaving only the tip inside her silk.
Then he thrust back into her and took up a forceful rhythm of stretching her open on his tail.
“Fucking gods,” she gasped, gripping both his horns again. He felt her use them as leverage as she bounced her hips down to meet him.
“Like this, don’t you?” Rolan urged her on, drunk off her desire. “Fucking yourself on my tail—” He leaned down to take another taste of her clit, swirling and sucking as the ridges on his tail dragged more wetness out of her with each thrust.
“Yes,” Tav moaned, shaking under him as his tongue worked over her clit. “Feels so perfect in me, so—ngh—!”
When he flicked the tip of it up inside her, Tav’s words stuttered to incoherence. He felt her inner walls clench and flutter, and repeated the motion over and over with each thrust.
“I’m—oh, oh ohohoh—”
She dissolved into soft cries. The muscles at her core tensed and shuddered as she climaxed against his tongue. Rolan withdrew his tail from her with a slick release, instead clasping his mouth over her to lap down the sweet taste that poured from her. His pants were so wet he was nearly convinced he’d already come, but he felt his cock straining against the fabric just as firmly.
When her thighs collapsed limp to either side, Rolan pushed himself to his feet for a look at her. Tav’s eyes were bright, cheeks flushed with arousal, her hair coiled out in wild tendrils that framed her like a crown. Their eyes met; with both hands on his arms, she pulled him down for a kiss.
Rolan landed braced on his forearms. Their tongues slid and pushed together, trading the taste of her release. When he felt her reaching between them to undo his laces, he pulled away to loose them and strip off the rest of his clothes.
Tav reached for his erection, and before he’d steadied himself, she gripped his length to drag the generous droplets of precum around his tip with her thumb. His hips bucked into her.
“Eager, aren’t you?” She teased softly.
“Yes,” Rolan groaned. Tav’s soft hand was around his cock for the first time; it was all he could do to locate words. He knew his face was flushed and tense with arousal, but Tav only looked up at him with appreciation from where she lay back on his bed.
When she guided his length across the wet of her core, he rocked his hips to drag his ridges across her. She shivered slightly, still sensitive, but rolled into him.
“Need you,” Rolan panted, not sure whether he was asking her or begging. “Tav—please—”
Tav’s hand lined him up with her entrance. When his leaking tip nudged inside her, Rolan pushed forward with one slow, determined cant of his hips.
The cool slick of her walls clutched each inch of him so perfectly. A low groan rose in Rolan’s throat—this was the closest thing to real satisfaction that he’d gotten in days, and he hadn't even started moving yet.
“So good,” Tav said under him, voice sweet and husky. “Keep going—”
Rolan braced his hands against her hips. He pulled out slowly, legs shaking beneath him, then pushed back into the tight plush of her.
His hips took up a firm pace, and Rolan couldn't bite back his whines as he plunged his cock inside her. Whatever his fevered imagination had conjured, it was nothing compared to this—he fell over her again, fangs skating against her breast as her body rocked under him with each thrust.
“Yes, yes, fuck—” Tav was just as breathless as her fingers gripped the infernal ridges on his shoulder blades. She tugged, egging him on.
Rolan took the invitation with enthusiasm. He nipped and sucked around the swell of her breast, breathing in lungfuls of the sweetness rolling off her skin.
“Harder,” Tav begged, the words vibrating against his lips. The hunger inside him surged in agreement.
Rolan’s lips fastened over one nipple. He sucked, hard, letting his tongue roll her against his teeth. Tav let out a whimper, but he felt her legs crossing around his hips as he continued to bury himself in her.
Rolan pulled away to look at her face. A mist of sweat dusted her brow; Tav’s lips were parted and twitching with silent words.
“Look at me,” Rolan ordered, still filling her with his cock in a steady rhythm.
Tav obeyed, her eyes shining and pupils blown wide. He straightened away from her, never breaking, and laid a hand each on her calves. Then he pushed up, folding her legs to her chest and opening up her cunt even deeper for him.
“You look so beautiful like this, Tav,” he told her, thighs trembling with the effort of keeping his pace slow and steady. “Folded in half in my bed. Stretched around my cock so perfectly.”
In response, Tav’s hands grabbed her knees, pulling herself open even further to each side. “Is this how you imagined it?” She asked wickedly. “All alone—wishing it was me and not your own hand—”
Heat prickled across his neck and shoulders, but Rolan was too far gone to feel shame. He couldn't resist breaking eye contact, however, watching the way his cock stretched open her dripping cunt.
“Just like this,” he panted in answer. She took in breath to respond, but he was already slamming back into her at a reckless pace.
The lewd, wet sounds of his thrusts filled the room, layered with their chorus of whines and moans. Rolan shuddered at how slick and tight she was around him, perfectly gripping each inch of his needy length. His cock throbbed in anticipation of a satisfying release, finally, after all these times of not quite enough—
“I’m close,” he panted, gripping her hips to pull her down deeper onto his cock. The tip of him nudged against the limits of her walls. “Where should—”
“Inside,” Tav insisted, still holding herself wide for him. “Only inside, Rolan, want you to fill me up—fuck—”
The imagery pushed him over the edge, and he did just that. With a throb of release, he felt his cock pulsing and filling her deepest walls with his seed. His hips stuttered into her as he pushed his spend as far into her as he could reach.
Tav clutched his shoulders as he came, humming and moaning out praises for him. Their hips rocked together, nudging his coated length back against her deep center.
Tav went tense under him. He forced his eyes open and saw her lips parted in surprise.
“I’m—oh—!”
She gasped in shock as her own climax gripped her. Rolan hissed in breath at the way she clenched and fluttered so suddenly around him. His length was still hard, and his ridges pulsed against her.
As she drifted back down, Tav’s eyes finally lit on him in a daze. “What…what was that?”
Rolan was abruptly reminded of how many ruts he’d spent without a partner. “I'm sorry, I should've warned you,” he confessed. It was hard to form his thoughts while still inside her. “During the cycle…infernal traits get stronger. Like incubi. Helps attract a partner.” Somehow this explanation was more embarrassing than any of the other filth he’d just spoken to her.
Tav stared up at him. “You're saying your come is going to make me come?”
“Essentially.” Rolan shifted inside her slightly, still not confident he was done. “I apologize—I didn't think to tell you. Is that a problem?”
“Rolan—” Tav let out a breathless laugh, and the sound went straight to his chest. “This is the exact opposite of a problem. Just a bit of a shock, that's all.”
The lovely sight of her happy and satisfied under him was too much to resist. Rolan leaned forward on his arms to kiss her, trapping her legs between their chests.
As her hand stroked softly under his jaw, Rolan felt a second ache settling in his loins. He released her lips for just long enough to push her legs out over his hips, then ducked back down for her mouth.
He rolled his hips into her slower this time, but it was somehow more intense. Their lips stayed connected as he drove into her deep. Her walls were slippery with arousal and his own seed, and they gripped like pure silk around his cock. Her opening slid over the sensitive ridges at his base with each thrust.
When he dipped a thumb between their bodies to rub circles over her clit, Tav broke away with a little gasp.
“I can’t again,” she said, panting.
“You can,” he told her simply. “Hold on to me—”
She did, wrapping both arms and legs firmly around him as if he was her anchor. Rolan dipped his head to her neck as he doubled his pace, their hips slotting together with each brisk slide into her. He breathed deep against the curve of her shoulder.
Still so hungry for release, it wasn't long before he came again hard. This time he just barely pumped his spend into her before he pulled out to look down.
Sticky white seed dribbled out of her slit, running down toward her hole. He dipped the thumb circling her clit down to swipe it back up across her cunt, painting his come across the bundle of nerves at her peak.
Tav’s thighs twitched under him, and she gripped his arm tight with one hand. She swore as he continued flicking across her clit with the wet pad of his thumb, then whined out his name.
While her next orgasm nearly doubled her in half, Rolan tilted his head to watch the sight between her legs. She was soaked, twitching, utterly intoxicating. Her contracting walls pushed more of his spend out of her; it flowed generously from her slit and soaked down into the bedding below.
Finding himself now utterly spent, Rolan collapsed on his back next to her. As he did, he realized his legs had grown fatigued to the point of buckling from the exertions. He let his body sink heavy into the mattress.
“I made a mess on your sheets,” Tav panted from beside him.
Rolan groaned at her descriptive language. The fact that his length continued softening was a sign his urges were finally giving him a reprieve, however. “It was mostly my fault.”
She only let out a weak breath of laughter.
Too tired to trust his shaking legs, he reached an arm blind over the side of the bed and snatched up the first fabric it touched. His discarded shirt.
Pushing himself seated, he gently reached to dry between Tav’s legs. One of her hands traced the ridges on his back as he quietly tended to her.
“How long before the next?” She asked him.
“An hour or two.” Rolan didn't look at her. “Tav, you've done more than enough for m—”
The mattress shifted as she sat up and turned his face into a waiting kiss. It was soft, just a chorus of little presses across his lips.
When Tav pulled away, she tucked the damp curtain of his hair behind one ear. “Rolan, unless you want me to go, I'm staying until it’s over.”
Rolan cast a glance over her. Despite the fact that she was naked in his bed and covered in blooming bruises from his mouth, she was very much the same Tav as ever. “Thank you,” he told her quietly.
She pushed him onto his back with a sudden laugh, landing with her chest pressed to his. “What an utterly Rolan thing to say,” she mused. “Need I remind you I just came three times?”
Tav was teasing him, and was of a mind to put her in her place—only he found that none of his limbs wanted to move at the moment. Instead, his only response was a deep hum as his eyelids drooped shut.
He felt the mattress shift as she rose and wished he could reach out to stop her. But a moment later she curled up next to him again, dragging a soft quilt over their bodies.
Rolan turned inward to rest his head on Tav’s chest—and fell into his first real slumber in days.
#spicy#rolan x tav#tiefling ruts#rolan smut#heat/rut cycles#female tav#bg3 rolan#tiefling biology#bg3 fanfiction#rebgrrl writes#underdark-dreams
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déjà vu (beyoncé’s version) – ln4
masterlist
Summary: The one where a bad prank leads to you and Lando exploring an option you thought was not an option.
Pairing: lando norris x bestfriend!reader (nicknamed Tink)
Word Count: 5.2k
Warnings: smut elements but no actual smut, cursing, pining and of course fluff!
Request: “Haiiii. I love your style of writing Lando and feel like you would 100% do a request justice to scratch the itch in my brain Reader and him have been childhood friends, mutual pining with some sexual tension but never crossed lines other than a new years kiss with friends etc. So reader ends up training and qualifying as a physio/masseuse and travelling with Lando bc fun besties on tour together yay! Thinking she ends up getting to know his body really well from that and has to massage some intimate area- tension builds blah. They have a cosy night in together after front row quali to prep for the race, face masks cuddles bc really physically comfortable together and then some confessions happen. After this going out to celebrate home race (not jinxing tomorrow!!) and reader ends up dancing with another driver, Lando gets jealous fully opens up and they go home together (as much detail on that as you feel comfortable with) No probs if it’s something you don’t feel inspired to write! Pls continue writing whatever you love because I love to read your stuff!!”
Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! am i back after a literal month of no fics?? i hope so!! thank you so much for being patient with me you guysi i appreciate it, and i just want to say that this was the first time i wrote for lando (and you can definitely thank @userlando and her lando brainrot posts for that) and i’m kind of obsessed!! so as always, thank you to the anon for the request, and i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee
Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.
Being friends with Lando has resulted in both of you getting in trouble way too many times, you realise. The most recent case? The both of you ended up in a supply closet nearby the Aston Martin hospitality, hiding from a very, very, angry Spaniard. The close proximity and the limited space wouldn’t have been a big issue, for if Lando wasn’t looking at you with that look in his eyes. Under normal other circumstances, your reaction would’ve been much more different to the one you give him now – which is a glare that shows him you are not happy with the situation the both of you are in.
You’re about to scold him, but the words on your tongue quickly die as he presses his index finger to your lips. “I know you’re about to yell at me,” he whispers as he tries to keep his voice as low as possible, “but I really don’t want to be found right now.”
“Then maybe you should’ve thought about that before, you bloody idiot.” You hiss while slapping his hand away, which wins you a mock pout in return. “Why would you play that song every time he walked into a room?”
“It’s his name,” Lando tries to reason, “I thought he’d be used to it by now!”
Here’s the sitch. Lando, being the absolute prankster he is, decided to play ‘Fernando’ every time his former teammate entered into a room that morning – which resulted in the Spaniard becoming more and more annoyed with him until he snapped and Lando had to find himself a hiding place. How did you get roped into this, you may ask? You have absolutely no idea, other than your best friend dragging you into a nearby storage closet as you were walking back to the McLaren hospitality after meeting up with some of your friends for a cup of coffee. And now? The two of you are stuck inside a closet which is obviously too small for you both, and Lando has to bend his neck in an uncomfortable position.
“Lando,” you whisper in an attempt to keep your voice down, “don’t bend your head like that, you’ll strain something.”
“Well it’s not exactly comfortable, Tink.” He grimaces as one of the shelves hit his neck, which causes him to let out a low groan.
Ignoring the nickname he’s used for years, you motion him to move lower. “Just– let me see, okay?”
He begrudgingly nods as he bends his body towards you to accommodate you. You let your fingers run across his skin to find any knots along his shoulders. He lets out another low groan, but this one is more appreciative as you work some of the knots your fingers end up finding.
You watch as Lando’s expression changes from painful discomfort to relief as your fingers work their magic on his tense muscles. For a brief moment, it's just the two of you in the confined space, and you almost get lost in the comfortable silence. “Feels good,” Lando murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, “I swear you have magic hands or something.”
You let out a breathy chuckle, “I just know your body, Lando.” After realising the words that come out of your mouth, your face flushes with embarrassment at the unintended implication of your words and you scramble to add, “Not like that, I didn’t mean–”
He smirks playfully, his eyes sparkling mischievously. “Oh, really? My body, huh? You think about my body often?” he teases, his hands squeezing your waist – and being lost in the moment, you don’t even know how they ended up there.
Your cheeks grow even hotter, and you feel your heart rate quicken. “No, that's not what I meant,” you stammer, trying to regain your composure, “and you know it’s basically my job to think about, you know?”
The mischievous glint in his eyes shine brightly as he decides to play dumb, “To think about what, baby?”
Your heart skips a beat at his teasing, and you can't help but let out a small laugh, trying to hide your embarrassment. “Don't be ridiculous, Lando,” you retort, trying to act cool despite the butterflies in your stomach. “I meant knowing your body like an expert, considering the fact that you pull a muscle every time you decide to do a physical activity.”
He chuckles, and his hands, still resting on your waist, give you a playful squeeze. "Sure, sure, Tink," he replies, a hint of playfulness in his voice. "But let's be honest, it's not just my body you know well. You practically read my mind too."
You roll your eyes, trying to playfully push him away. "Oh, please. You're not that hard to figure out."
Lando leans in a little closer, his grin still evident. "Is that so? Then tell me, oh expert of Lando Norris, what am I thinking right now?"
You raise an eyebrow, not falling for his trick. "You're probably thinking that you got away with the Fernando prank and now you owe me big time, your brain is empty most of the time."
He smirks, impressed by your response. "You're good, Tink. But you're right, I do owe you one. What can I do to make it up to you?"
You pause, the closeness between the two of you making it difficult to think clearly. "Well, for starters, maybe you can stop dragging me into your pranks and getting us into trouble," you suggest with a hint of a smile. “And I don’t know, maybe take pole for me, you know?”
As the playful banter continues, you both seem to forget about the predicament you're in. The confined space of the closet no longer feels suffocating; instead, it becomes a haven for shared laughter and camaraderie.
Just as the two of you are lost in the moment, the closet door suddenly opens, and you both freeze. The angry Spaniard stands before you once again, but this time, his expression has softened, seeing you and Lando in a surprisingly intimate moment.
"Am I interrupting something?" Fernando asks, his tone amused.
Your face turns beet red, and Lando lets out a nervous chuckle. "Oh, hey there. Just having a chat, you know."
But Fernando raises an eyebrow, still looking amused. "In a supply closet?"
You and Lando exchange a sheepish glance, realizing how the situation must appear to Fernando. "Well, we kind of got caught up in the moment," you admit, hoping he doesn't read too much into it.
Fernando chuckles, and there's a warm glint in his eyes. "I see. Well, it's none of my business, but you might want to find a less cramped place to chat next time."
You nod in agreement, grateful that Fernando seems to be taking the situation lightly. "You're right. We'll keep that in mind," you say, trying to sound casual.
Lando adds with a grin, "Yeah, and we promise not to play 'Fernando' every time you enter a room from now on." But he’s quick to correct himself when you give him a glare, “I promise not to play 'Fernando' every time you enter a room from now on."
Fernando chuckles again, seemingly amused by the whole ordeal. "I'd appreciate that. Anyway, carry on. I won't keep you two any longer."
As he walks away, you let out a sigh of relief. "That could have been a lot worse," you say, feeling a mix of embarrassment and amusement.
"Yeah, we got lucky," Lando agrees, giving you a playful nudge. "But you know what they say, Tink, nothing like a bit of closet bonding to strengthen a friendship."
You roll your eyes at his playful banter, but there's a fondness in your heart as you look at him. "You're incorrigible, Lando Norris."
He grins, "You love it, though."
You can't help but smile, knowing he's right. “Come on,” you say, “you have a quali to attend.”
The tension from the qualifying session had left you on edge, your heart pounding with every lap, and your nerves had gotten the better of you, leading to some slightly bloody nails from biting them in anticipation. But all that anxiety melts away when you see Lando step out of the car, grinning ear to ear. As soon as he catches sight of you, he opens his arms, and you don't hesitate for a moment. You rush into his embrace, holding him tightly, relieved that he's safe and thrilled that he performed so well.
"You were amazing out there!" you exclaim, unable to hide the pride in your voice. "P2, front row! That's incredible!"
Lando chuckles, his arms still wrapped around you. "I don’t know how we did it!"
You pull back slightly to look into his eyes, your heart swelling with admiration for your best friend. "I never doubted you for a second," you say earnestly.
His grin widens, and he playfully ruffles your hair. "I know you didn't. Seems like you’re my lucky charm, hm?"
“You know what that means?” You ask him return, a playful smirk on your lips.
His answer comes quickly, and his look seems to reflect your own, “Pizza and a movie?”
Your reply is just as enthusiastic as you throw your arms around him and give him a big smile, “Pizza and a movie, baby!”
Eventually, you manage to escape the whole hustle and bustle of the circuit, and you and Lando find yourselves back at the hotel, with you on the couch trying to find something to watch and him deciding to take a quick shower after the stressful day of qualifying. After a few minutes, you hear the sound of the shower running in the bathroom. You smile to yourself, glad that Lando is taking some time to relax after such a demanding day. As you wait for him to finish, you finally settle on a movie to watch with a small grin on your face, clearly pleased with your choice. Just as you're about to start the movie, you hear the bathroom door open, and Lando emerges, looking refreshed and relaxed.
After he gets the pizza box out of the oven, he walks over to the couch, wearing sweatpants instead of his jeans, and flops down next to you. "That shower was exactly what I needed," he says with a contented sigh.
You chuckle, glancing at him, while also trying to actively ignore the fact that he’s wearing grey sweatpants. "Feeling better now?"
"Definitely," he replies, flashing you a grin. "So, what are we watching?"
“Mamma Mia,” you scoff, “of course.”
“A classic, nice.” He nods in understanding, extending the pizza box to you for you to take a slice. “It’s still warm.”
You wordlessly grab a slice and pass the box back to Lando as you settle in your seat, ready to focus on your choice of movie. The comfortable silence between you feels familiar, like the unspoken language of best friends who have shared countless memories and moments together. Throughout the movie, you can't help but notice Lando's occasional stolen glances at you, and you find yourself stealing glances right back. He even winks at you with that boyish grin every time he catches you staring at him, making you giggle as you quickly turn your attention back onto the screen. You somehow find yourself sprawled out on the couch once the pizza box is emptied and discarded, and it’s harder for you to keep your eyes open. With your head on Lando’s lap, he plays with the ends of your hair as the two of you try to keep your attention on the screen.
‘Try,’ being the operative word here, since Lando realises that you end up falling asleep in the middle of the movie where Sophie realises all of the men she invited to the wedding thinks they are her father, and though he finds some kind of comfort in the chaos knowing that it will get resolved eventually, he can’t help but take his role as a makeshift human pillow very seriously. As the movie continues playing, Lando tries his best not to disturb your peaceful slumber. He leans back against the couch, adjusting his position so you can rest more comfortably on his lap while also trying so hard to not wake you up. He can't help but smile to himself as he plays with your hair, finding himself mesmerized by the gentle rise and fall of your chest as you breathe.
With a sudden realisation that maybe it is not the best thing to stare at you while you sleep, he tries to occupy himself with something on his phone while also trying to keep still so that you don’t wake up. However, the text thread between him and Max quickly makes him realise that the thoughts that he tries so hard to keep away. He never gave himself the opportunity to think about the two of you that way, he supposes. Not that it would be weird or anything, but in his mind, he’d seen, and been in, far too many relationships form and de-form to know that not all is permanent when it comes to relationships and it’s also not something he’d want to risk when it comes to you. Although the unwarranted thoughts of the two of you together, as a couple, have been haunting him for the past couple of months, he did a great job of sending them away and finding something else to focus on – up until now, that is. And now that he’s pictured the two of you together, holding hands in the streets of Monaco, going on dates, doing more than what ‘best friends’ are meant to do, it doesn’t seem that daunting to give it a try.
He carefully shifts you onto his lap with gentle movements, surprised that you don’t wake up and also trying to figure out the best way to wake you up without startling you. As he gently brushes your cheek, your eyes flutter open, and you look up at him with a sleepy smile. "Did I miss the end of the movie?" you ask, your voice still heavy with sleep.
Lando chuckles, shaking his head, but not stilling the movement of his hand. “No, we just finished. You fell asleep somewhere in the middle.”
You sit up slightly, rubbing your eyes with a small yawn. “I'm sorry,” you say, sounding apologetic.
“No need to apologise,” he assures you, his thumb caressing your cheek. “You looked adorable sleeping, Tink.”
Your cheeks flush slightly, and you give him a playful nudge. “Stop teasing me.”
Lando grins, but there's a tenderness in his eyes as he looks at you. “I'm not teasing, Tink. I mean it. You always look adorable, no matter what you're doing.”
You feel your heart skip a beat at his sincere compliment, and you can't help but smile back. “Thank you,” you say softly, feeling a warmth spreading through you, “I, uh, I should probably go to my room and let you sleep.”
“What? No, you don’t have to go.” Lando’s eyebrows furrow on their own, “I mean, you could stay over, it’s not like we haven’t done it before.”
You give him an unsure look, “I don’t know, Lando, you have a race tomorrow.”
“And we’ll sleep,” he shrugs, “the name ‘sleepover’ implies that, baby.”
You end up giving in and nodding, albeit a little hesitant. "Alright, I'll stay over."
Lando's face lights up with a bright smile, clearly pleased with your decision. "Great! It'll be fun, just like old times."
You chuckle softly. "Yeah, just like old times."
And you’d expect it to feel like the old times, because the two of you said it would be like the old times – the times where you’d spend the night over at his house because his mother picked you up and you didn’t want the playtime to be over. But instead of the excitement of a prolonged play date with your best friend, you find yourself anxious in the hotel bathroom over the fact that it’s him out there, and there is no way that he is not aware of the way you feel about him. You take a moment to compose yourself, splashing some cold water on your face to calm your nerves. This situation is new territory for both of you, and you don't want anything to ruin the friendship the two of you have. When you eventually make your way out of the bathroom, you desperately want to go back in, feeling undoubtedly exposed under Lando’s burning gaze.
“What?” You ask, your voice coming off weaker than you hoped, “Why are you looking at me like that?”
It takes a minute for him to answer you, mainly because of the fact that poor Lando is having a brain malfunction at the sight of you in his shirt – which he gave it to you because it was the only logical option for sleepwear, you know? Suddenly regretting his possessive streak, he attempts to clear his throat, “Nothing, you look good in my clothes.”
Your eyebrows shoot up, and you try not to let yourself become reduced to a blubbering mess, “Oh, well thank you. It’s yours,” after a brief moment of realisation you quickly add, “but you already knew that.”
“Tink,” he calls out, snapping you out of whatever embarrassed state you’re in, and your eyes quickly snap to his. “Come here,” he pleads as he extends one of his towards you, he’s quick to draw you into his arms – and just like that, you find yourself straddling your best friend.
“This is crazy,” you whisper as Lando grabs you by the waist to still your movements as you try to find a comfortable position while not realising just how uncomfortable it becomes for him.
“It doesn’t have to be,” his whisper is just as soft as yours as he looks up to you, “we don’t have to make it weird.”
A compromise, you’ll take it. “Are you going to kiss me?”
“Do you want me to kiss you?” As much as you hate it when he replies to your questions with his own, you nod your head with a sheepish look on your face, though it doesn’t satisfy Lando as a valid answer. “I need you to say it, baby.”
You answer comes of in an instant. “I do, please.”
“Such good manners,” he mumbles while giving you that boyish grin you love oh so much. When he catches biting the corner of your lip, you’re broken out of your daydream by his thumb pulling your lip free. “Don’t do that, you’ll hurt yourself,” his thumb caresses the side of your lip, “that’s my job, anyway.”
Your cheeks flush at his playful comment, and you can't help but smile at his words. "Your job, huh?" you tease, feeling the tension in the air starting to dissipate.
Lando chuckles, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your waist. "Among other things," he replies with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
Before you give yourself the opportunity to overthink, you lean in and press a soft kiss to Lando’s lips – it’s only a peck, a hesitant one at that, but not completely uncharted territory when you think about it. The two of you have shared kisses before, at Christmas or New Year’s at midnight, but somehow this simple peck feels different than any of those other occasions. Lando doesn’t rush you. He’s a patient man after all, and he knows that the feelings he has for you are reciprocated by the feelings you have for him. So when you look him with widened eyes, he gives you a soft smile and it does wonders to calm your nerves. It doesn’t take you long to press your lips against his once again, but this time the kiss is deeper, more passionate, and filled with the unspoken words that have lingered between you for too long.
It starts off with another peck, but this time you take the initiative to deepen the kiss, and the appreciative groan that leaves Lando’s lips makes you feel butterflies in your stomach. His hands move from your waist to the small of your back, pulling you closer to him, while yours tangle in his hair, revelling in the softness of his curls – and the fact that all of this feels almost familiar in some kind of a way. He’s not shy as he lets his tongue explore your mouth, in fact, he encourages you to do the same. It’s a messy kiss filled with colliding tongues and mixed breaths, and the hands that were on your waist one moment are now on your hips, encouraging their slow movement against his groin. It’s not a subtle build-up for any of you, either. It a matter of seconds, you find yourself dry-humping your childhood best friend in his hotel room, and in a couple more, both of you are whimpering into the kiss.
You’re both out of breath and breathing deeply as you rest your forehead against Lando’s. Thankfully, his hands continue to guide your hips as their movement get more and more erratic, and you him groan out, “Slow down, baby.”
You let out an objective whimper in return, whispering out a weak, “No.”
“No?” Lando repeats, his breath hitting your exposed neck in a light chuckle, “Do you want to come?”
“Uh-huh,” you mumble, letting your hands grab handfuls of his hair, “but you can’t fuck me.”
The whine that comes from your lips can only be described as bratty when Lando forces your hips to cease their movements, raising an eyebrow at you as he grumbles, “Excuse me?”
“You can’t fuck me, Lando.” You mumble, trying to move your hips again, but his hold is too powerful against your attempts. “At least not tonight.”
“And why is that, Tink?” He takes in your wide eyes and shuddering breath in, thinking he’d done something wrong, something you didn’t like. “You want to come, no?” He thinks at that moment, as you give him a nod with that dreamy and almost innocent look on your face, he could die and he’d be happy with where his life has led him, but he gives you a confused look, “Then what is the problem?”
“Um, you have a race tomorrow,” you explain as your fingers gently slide down to meet at the nape of his neck, “I don’t want to jinx anything.”
As a respond to your words, Lando gives you a look of disbelief, “You don’t want to jinx me having a good race,” he mumbles.
You give him another nod, “Are you mad at me?”
“Am I mad at you?” Lando repeats the question, and he flips the two of you over in a smooth motion so that you're lying on the bed with him hovering above you, his eyes locked onto yours. “Answer the question for me, will you?”
You take a moment to catch your breath, your heart racing as you meet his intense gaze. “No,” you reply softly, your fingers tracing the outline of his jaw. “Why would you be mad at me?”
Lando's lips curve into a playful smile as he leans in, his breath warm against your skin. “See?” he murmurs, his lips brushing against yours, “Good girl.” As he moves down your body, you let out a protesting sound, but he quickly shushes you as he positions himself between your legs. “I’m going to make you come, and you’re not talking to Micheal Italiano ever again.” He taps the side of your hips to signal you to raise them up as he carefully takes off your underwear and then murmurs to himself, “Pretty girl, too.”
With a blush which is quickly spreading onto your cheeks and neck, you raise yourself onto your elbows as you watch him give you the do-over. “Lando,” you plead.
“Oh baby, you're wet,” he teases, “don’t worry, though, I’ll help you with that.” He also gives you a look while grabbing both of your thighs, “And the shirt fucking stays on.”
After the events of the previous night with Lando working wonders between your legs for the remainder of the night, he honestly didn’t expect to start the morning with you returning the favour. Alas there you were, between his legs, with sleepy eyes and an innocent smile as if you hadn’t just given him the best blowjob of his life. And as the two of you make your way along the paddock, he wishes he was back in his hotel room with you in his arms. You try your best to distract him from overthinking everything and costing himself the race, and Lando is aware of what you’re trying to do – though that doesn’t mean you succeed completely.
You can tell by the small frown of eyebrows that he is lost inside his head, probably double guessing every aspect of the strategy his team debriefed him about this morning. With a deep inhale, you give his hand a small squeeze, halting your movements to stop him alongside you. “Hey,” you call out gently, “you’re going to be amazing out there, okay? You have nothing to worry about.”
“I know, it’s just the pressure is getting to me.” You watch him sigh, closing his eyes for a moment to regroup his thoughts, “I’ll be fine before I go in the car, I promise.”
You nod, giving him an encouraging smile, “I know you will. After all, you feel the–”
“Need for speed.” He completes the sentence without thinking, which makes the two of share a short laughter. “Thanks, Tink.”
“You’re welcome,” lifting yourself up on your tiptoes, you give him a soft peck on his lips, “I’ll watch the race with your dad, okay?” You chuckle at his reaction when he lets out a prolonged groan, “What?”
“He’s going to make fun of us, big time.” He says, rolling his eyes.
“Go,” you say in between laughter, “don’t be late and for the love of God, be careful!”
Lando chuckles at your playful warning, giving you a mock salute. “Yes, ma'am!”
It doesn’t take long for you to find Adam, who gives you a knowing look, in the sea of spectators in the McLaren garage. And as the race begins, you and Adam stand side by side, your eyes fixed on the track where the race is unfolding. The first four laps as the Lando leads the race makes your heart beat so hard, you can practically feel the excitement coursing through your veins. Each turn and straightaway that Lando navigates flawlessly adds to the anticipation building in the air. Even when he returns to his original position, you’re on the edge, praying to whatever deity up there for him to finish this race without and incident. You’ve told him million times before that you don’t get F1 at all, you’ve always thought the adrenaline linked with the sport to be a negative feeling – too heavy, too much and definitely not something you want to feel every weekend. But in the moment that Lando passes the finishing line P2, you realise why people are so obsessed with this sport. Because when Lando crosses the finish line, you find yourself cheering as loudly as anyone else. The rush of emotions, once alien to you, now feels like a shared celebration of human achievement and dedication.
Lando is all smiles when he finally finds his way back to you, and he’s giving you a kiss the moment he has you back in his arms; celebrating with the team in the paddock was a whirlwind of emotions. As he wraps his arms around you and pulls you close, his big smile is infectious.
So you’re honestly confused when he starts dragging you through the hallways of the club you went to for his celebrations with the rest of the team. The beat of the music playing back in the dancefloor echoes in the hallway as he leads you down the hall. The lights, the laughter, and the energy of the celebrations in the main area of the club are still audible, but you can only hear the muffled sounds of the celebration being held for him. “Lando,” in hopes of finally getting some answers, you say his name for the umpteenth time, but he just looks at you with furrowed eyebrows, “what’s wrong?”
He's silent as he wraps his arms around your waist and before you can repeat your question he buries his head in the crook of your neck. While you’re thinking about what could’ve caused his sudden need to be alone with you, he’s very glad that you’ve opted to wear sneakers tonight instead of heels.
“Baby,” you murmur, your fingers running through his curls in an attempt to bribe him, “tell me what’s wrong.”
“Nothing is wrong.” His voice is muffled by your skin and you can feel the breath he exhales on your shoulder.
You purse your lips and give him a few moments for him to break on his own, but when he doesn’t, you sigh softly. “Something is wrong.”
He raises his head momentarily to give you an unamused look, then bury his head back into your neck, “I saw you and Oscar.”
“Yeah, we were talking about the race.” Your confirmation leaves you confused as he lets out a scoff, and you find yourself warily asking, “Is there something wrong with that?”
You hear him scoff again and then, “Well I didn’t particularly like it.”
You gently push him off of you as you try to look past his confused expression and pouted lips, “You didn’t like me talking to your teammate… about your race.”
“Well when you put it like that–”
“Lando he is two years younger than us, and he has a girlfriend you do realise that, don’t you?” Your hands rest on either side of your body on your hips as you give him a small grin, “You were jealous, weren’t you?”
His eyes widen as he nods, “Well yeah, Tink, I think that one was very much obvious when I dragged you here.”
“I mean,” you drawl, “it was kind of cute, you know?”
As his eyes narrow, Lando walks you backwards until you’re pressed up against the wall. “Well I am a cute person.”
“Oh yeah,” you let out a giggle, “the cutest.” Your fingers toy with the buttons of his shirt while you look up at him to meet his eyes, “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“That we should probably get back to the party?” He mumbles, his eyes drifting as he looks around the hall.
You fist the collar of his shirt as you raise yourself up on your tiptoes, your voice lowering down for only him to hear even if it’s a deserted hallway, “You don’t have a race tomorrow.”
His eyes come back down to meet yours, “Well yes, it’s Mond– oh,” it takes a moment for him to realise what you’ve meant, and you’re thrown over his shoulder in an instant.
“Wha– Lando put me down!” You shriek, “What are you doing?”
His voice is playful as he starts walking towards the back door of the club, “We are not leaving that hotel room for a few days.”
It doesn’t take long for you to start laughing, “You’re an idiot.”
“Maybe,” he shrugs the opposite shoulder, “but I’m your idiot.”
The sincerity in his words catches you off guard, but you can’t help the small smile forming on your lips as you murmur, “Yeah, yeah you are.”
#monzabee#requests open#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 smut#formula 1#fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 x y/n#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#imagine#fluff#angst#smut#lando norris smut#lando norris fluff
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Sweet Summer | Pt. 2
Wanda Maximoff x f!Reader
Summary: The Xavier Institude is being renovated for the summer. With nowhere else to go, your best friends Billy and Tommy offer you to stay with them and their mom. But what happens when feelings start to spark between the two of you?
Word Count: 6.3k
Warnings: Underage Drinking, Smut (Minors do not interact), Age Gap (20yo reader, 37yo Wanda)
Tags: mutant!Reader (shadow manipulation), different timeline, everyone is alive (except Pietro, sorry Pietro), no Sokovia Accords, no Thanos, Wanda was young when she joined the Avengers, retired Natasha, top!Reader, bottom!Wanda, but they switch a bit, Vision is a bit of an asshole, divorced!Wanda, mainly cutesy, bit of angst tho
A/n: i'm bad at smut but i hope you still enjoy it
"What was I thinking?" Wanda bemoaned, face in her hands. She was sitting in the living room of her best friend Natasha, complaining to her a few days later. The retired redhead was listening with a neutral expression, drinking her morning coffee. "She's Billy and Tommy's best friend! She's twenty!"
Natasha sipped on her coffee some more. "Truly I wonder," she deadpanned.
"You're not helping!" Wanda was at the edge of a breakdown after what happened, and disappeared to work the past few days in order to avoid you. But no matter what she did, her thoughts brought her back to you, to your smile, your voice, your kind words. She wanted to know more about you, in every way, her body mesmerized by your presence and her mind enthralled by your words.
"I know, but I doubt there is much I could do to help," she said patiently. She put down her cup of coffee and rested her hands on the tabletop flatly. "From what you tell me, you really like her. Which isn't a crime as far as I'm concerned."
"But what about–"
"Doesn't really matter, does it? You deserve happiness, and your boys would agree. So what if it's with Y/n?"
"It would feel wrong." She finally dared to look in her friend's eyes. There was no judgment there, but it was still hard to do.
"Or really right, considering how attracted to her you are. Do you want my honest opinion?"
"Go ahead," she said with suspicion in her eyes.
"I think you're afraid because you were her age when you started dating Vision, so you think it's gonna end the same way. With her thinking it was all a mistake, and you sad and lonely. Well, more than you are today."
"Geez, thanks Natasha," she said with as much sarcasm she could manage.
"Let me finish," she ordered and Wanda reluctantly complied. "Your fear is understandable, but also stupid. She's not you, and you're not Vision. And if you have a shot at happiness, you should take it."
Wanda didn't know what to say at this point. Luckily, Maria entered the apartment after her morning run. She kissed Natasha and the conversation changed direction as Wanda wanted to keep her relation to you a secret for now. But the words from her best friend kept coming back to her throughout the day.
*
The night of the party finally arrived, and with it the pressure to find a proper attire. You had figured out what you wanted to wear, but you also wanted a jacket to go with it. Sadly you were rather limited, and you had to go take a shower before one of the twins stole the washroom from you to finish prepping. When you came back out, clothes already on, there was a bag on your bed with a piece of paper. It read "Thank you for the discussion the other night". Inside the bag was the leather jacket from the store you went to the other day. You were speechless, mouth hanging open. Wanda had been avoiding you the past few days so you absolutely didn't expect anything from her, trying to move on from whatever feelings you had, but this… How she knew about it, you had no idea, but you weren't complaining.
You immediately tried it on, looking at yourself in the mirror. It fit perfectly. You turned around to peek at the back and jumped like a scared cat when you saw Wanda standing in the doorway, almost toppling over the mirror. She helped keep you standing with her powers and slowly released you.
"I didn't mean to scare you. Are you alright?" She asked with concern in her voice. She looked incredible at this instant, as she always did, with her doe eyes focused on you. She was wearing dark gray sweatpants, and a signature red hoodie with her hair in a low, kind of messy, ponytail.
"Yeah, I think so." You looked yourself over and then up at her. "Thank you. For catching me. And for the jacket."
"I saw the way you looked at it in the store," she said with a small, conniving smile. Then she looked away, playing with the hem of her sleeves and biting her lower lip as if looking for some courage. "Could we maybe talk?"
"I…" Should you? Probably not, but at the same time, your heart wanted nothing more than to talk to her. You pinched your lips. No. No matter how good she looked, and how mesmerizing her shyness was, it was a bad idea. But you had to let her down gently. "Maybe we–"
"Y/n! Are you ready?" A very excited Tommy appeared behind his mom in a blur, and you let out a sigh. The young man had been like that the whole day, starting in the late morning. "Billy is waiting on us."
Wanda hid her disappointment, but not enough for you to miss it. You quickly redirected your attention to your friend and grabbed whatever was needed. "I'm ready."
At least it would give you some time to think of something to tell Wanda. You followed Tommy who gave a hug to the witch and left to get to the car. Before you disappeared through the door, you couldn't help but get one more look at her.
The party was what you'd expect it would be. There was a ton of alcohol, some games going on, loud music, and half the people were enjoying the pool or talking in groups. The first thing you did with the twins was grab some drinks - alcohol for you and Tommy, soft for Billy who was driving you back - and join a group. Within the group there were some people you knew and some you didn't but it quickly dissolved into smaller groups. You ended up talking with a newly met Kate Bishop and Yelena Belova, who were both living in New York and came here to visit family. Kate was actually going to join Columbia this year just like you - except she was a few years ahead of you. You got along really well as you exchanged more. You ended up talking about what majors and minors you were going to attend, before Yelena let out a "Boriiiiing" and you changed the subject to something else. It quickly devolved into a knife throwing contest between the three of you that Yelena won.
Everything was going swimmingly - you played Kate in a beer pong game that you lost, enjoyed some time in the pool with her and some other people. But despite the fun, you couldn't help but think of Wanda. You would see her in a smile, or in the green of a leaf, in the inflection of a word, the smell of someone, the warmth from the alcohol, the curve of a waist, and so many more places. It was a curse, one you rried to forget with alcohol.
As for the twins, Tommy at this point was nowhere to be found, which meant he probably was with a girl, and Billy was playing video games with some people who were more relaxed now that it was starting to be late.
As you were drying on the side of the pool, head buzzing nicely with intoxication, you eavesdropped on a nearby conversation.
"Now, see, Enhanced Individuals totally need to be controlled in some way. By the governments or something," a girl said, and you couldn't help but roll your eyes at that.
"What are you on about?" Someone asked. "They might be freaks but they're no more dangerous than someone with a rifle."
"No, no, no! Like, think about it, they're the only ones who can become super-villains, so if we can track them or something, they can't be dangerous anymore."
Holding your drink in one hand, you stood up and splashed it in the face of the girl and his friend. She screamed bloody murder, and he just looked flabbergasted.
"Assholes," you spat.
"What is wrong with you?!" The guy finally asked while everyone was watching before finally going back to partying. You put back your clothes on; you didn't feel like partying anymore.
"Are you okay?" Kate asked as you stumbled because of the alcohol. "Hey, easy there. Let me help you."
"I want to go home," you mumbled with darkened eyes.
"Okay, let's find your friends." You shook your head at that and took a few steps forward.
"No, they're having fun. I can like… walk home or something."
"Walk ho– okay, no, you're definitely too drunk for that. I'll drive you, let me just get my stuff while you let your friends know."
You didn't really have time to protest. Looking around, you decided to simply do what she told you and you went to find Billy, knowing Tommy was likely busy. Your knees hit the couch where he was sitting and you got his attention.
"Hey man, I'm going home. Kate is driving me."
"Are you okay?" He frowned with concern in his eyes.
"Yeah, yeah. Yeah. I'll just see you tomorrow." You gave him a pat on the shoulder and he agreed to let you go. You went back to Kate who had put on a light jacket. You put your own on quickly, before you followed Kate to her car.
During the time it took to arrive back at the house, the silence in the car had stretched out. You were still drunk and yet you still felt uncomfortable. At least there was some music to help with the lack of conversation and how fidgety Kate was. Finally, when you arrived, she pulled in front of the pathway leading up to the house.
"You have my number, if you need anything…" she started.
"I'll text you," you finished. You offered her a smile and just as you were about to leave the car, she leaned in and kissed you briefly. Usually, you would have jumped on the occasion. Kate was a beautiful and clever woman. But this wasn't usually. So you didn't return it, didn't even react to it really, just looked blankly at her, and it seemed to be enough to get a message across.
"Oh, wow. I'm sorry, I thought, I don't know–"
"Don't. Let's just forget about it," you told her mercifully, finally exiting the car.
You were quick to make your way back to the door, stumbling a little on the way, and when you finally pushed it, you were confronted with a waiting Wanda. She was still wearing the same clothes as earlier, but this time her jaw was locked, her brow knitted on her forehead, and she had her arms crossed. The apparent hostility confused you and you slowly closed the door behind you, the faint sound of Kate's departing car the only noise in the house. You could hear a pin drop when that was gone.
"You had fun I see," she attacked first, leaving you eager to defend yourself, the alcohol leaving you susceptible to your emotions
"Yes, clearly, that's why I'm back early," you said sarcastically. There was something different about her right now, in the way she acted, the way she looked at you. She retreated her head in her shoulders, as if she was getting ready to be hit with something.
"Well, why are you here early?" Her eyes were sharp, but yours were just as much despite the alcohol in your veins. What happened for her to act like that suddenly? Then it hit you. You quickly regretted your returned aggressivity when it dawned on you. She was hurt. Her bravado was just a way to hide it. You had to find a way to diffuse the situation, but your idle mind had trouble processing everything.
"There was a bunch of assholes and just… listen, it doesn't really matter." She soften slightly at that, but she was still in her defensive position. You took a step towards her and she took a step back.
"It matters to me. What you do, how you feel, who you kiss… It all matters to me," she confessed, suddenly avoiding your gaze. "So if you've just been playing around, I need to know." And that's when you put the puzzle together. She must have seen Kate kiss you. Must have come to the window when she heard the car and seen everything without any context or clues about how you felt. You ran your hand through your hair.
"Wanda, I…" You took the time to look at her. Truly look at her. She was so vulnerable right now, you felt like you had her in the palm of your hand. You knew you technically had no reason to justify yourself, but your gut were turning at the idea of leaving her in this state.
"You don't need to say anything, you made it pretty clear how you felt," she marched on, still looking away, as you didn't know what to say. Your heart revolted at the idea that she could even think you didn't like her. You took a step forward. "You must be weirded out." Another step. Your mind was reeling, reminding you why this was such a bad idea, but you could barely hear it over the sounds of the blood hammering away in your ears. "I'd understand if–"
You reached for her face with both hands and kissed her. It was a short lived rush, but it felt so right. It completely derailed Wanda's train of thought, even now that the kiss was over, and for a second she tried to reattach the wagons.
"If… I'd understand…" She tilted her head to the side and tried to read you without going into your thoughts, her brows furrowing. "What am I understanding?"
You chuckled, and she joined, both of you leaning forward to join your foreheads. Slowly, your thumb rubbed her rosy cheek.
"You're understanding that I like you, a lot."
Wanda bit her lip, hesitation on her face. She was clearly still thinking about what happened in the car. And if she needed to ask about it, you certainly knew how to appease her fears.
"What about the girl in the car?" She finally bit the bullet and asked, her hands finding your shoulders to play with your jacket nervously.
"It was all her, I never wanted that kiss. But I sure want this one," and you kissed her lips once again, briefly, "and this one," and one more. You took your time for this one, tasting her cherry lips against yours. It already felt amazing, but feeling her reciprocate the kiss made it heavenly. Tentatively, you bit her lower lip and pressed the tip of your tongue against it in a clear message to ask for more. She opened the way and you slipped your tongue against hers, starting to play alongside her as the warmth of the kiss traveled down your body to your core. Slowly, the kiss got more heated, your breath unraveling and your heart beating faster and faster. At this point you were certain she was able to feel it against her palms. You pushed her against the wall and moved one hand to her waist to bring her closer to you, your pinky playing with the hem of her hoodie. The heat was unraveling you and you wanted nothing more than to follow it but gently Wanda interrupted the kiss. Her pupils were wide open and traced the contours of your face and of your lips before they finally focused on your eyes.
"Wait, wait. We're in the middle of the hallway, we can't just do that here." Well, you could, but it certainly would be risky. You smirked.
"Averse to a little adventure?" You teased her. She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, leaving the embrace of yours. You noticed how red she was right before she turned her back on you. When she finally looked at you again only her cheeks remained pink.
"Averse to having my sons walk in on me with their best friend." You pursed your lips. Of course she had a point, and you nodded. You closed the small distance between you too and took her hands in yours.
"Okay. Why don't we take this somewhere more private then?" You offered her a grin, then moved your eyebrows up and down. It managed to make her laugh, but she shook her head.
"As tempting as it is, it's too risky right now."
As if to prove her right, you heard a car pulling in the driveway. You pouted, but still agreed with her. You already broke your own words by kissing Wanda, there was no need for Tommy and Billy to find out about it.
"Alright but we're gonna have to make it up at some point," you negotiated and she gave you a shy smile. You vaguely wondered when was the last time Wanda actually got to be intimate and if that was part of why she interrupted the upcoming activity.
She took a step back when the twins came through the door and you looked at them. You immediately noticed Tommy's bruised hand and you frowned.
"What did you do?" You asked, taking a closer look at it while Wanda's eyes opened big and she took his hand in her to examine it.
"Might have punched some assholes," he admitted with a proud grin. "When I came back downstairs I heard what happened and why you left, and that guy was mouthing off about you, so I gave him a lesson."
"You didn't have to…" you started, pinching the bridge of your nose.
Wanda brought him to the kitchen where she kept a first aid kit, everyone trailing behind. She grabbed the instant cold pack and twisted it so it would start cooling, then she applied it on his fist after putting it in a towel.
"Thanks mom," he said, still smiling. She frowned and assumed her mom posture, putting her hands on her hips.
"Don't thank me, you're still grounded for a week."
Tommy cringed at that, but he didn't protest, moving to a dining room chair to sit down.
"Alright, now that this is resolved, I'm going to bed," Billy yawned.
"You're abandoning me like that?" A very dramatic Tommy asked.
"Yeah, cause I told you not to fight this guy, and I'm tired. Plus you have mom and Y/n taking care of you, you'll be fine."
Billy left, and you sat next to Tommy. He was lucky nothing was broken, and even luckier he only got grounded by his mom. You bumped shoulders with him.
"Next time, remember I can defend myself," you told him.
"Is that how people say thank you now?" He rolled his eyes and you laughed lightly. You knew you shouldn't encourage him, but he did deserve it.
"Thank you."
He beamed at you, just as Wanda was walking back in. She hugged her son sideways and kissed the top of his head.
"Time for you to go to bed," she ordered and without much complaints the young man gave a kiss on the cheek of his mother and went upstairs. The witch sat down where her son had been moments ago and leaned against you, resting her head on your shoulder. You mimicked her and rested your head on top of hers, your hand finding hers to take.
"What a day," you expressed with a sigh.
"What a day," she returned to you. "But mostly a good one, I hope?"
You grinned and leaned down to give her a kiss. "A great one." You kissed her some more, lingering on the taste of her lips, on your breath mingling together, and on her body pressed against yours.
"We should also get some sleep," she ended up murmuring to you after a few minutes. For the first time since you arrived home, you finally felt the weight of the day on you.
"But what if I want to enjoy your company longer?"
She rolled her eyes but her sweet smile contradicted the faux exasperation. It made you laugh silently.
"I'll still be there tomorrow. Now come on, off to bed we go."
With that, she stood up and helped you do the same, an occasion you took to steal another few kisses before she came back to her senses and led you up the stairs. You exchanged some more kisses in front of her bedroom as discreetly as possible before you finally said your goodbyes for the night.
*
The next two weeks were more of the same. With Tommy and Billy always around, you barely had any time alone with Wanda. You would sneak around at night, enjoying the balcony or one or the other's bedroom to make out. It felt like you were back at the Institute where you had to be discreet with your various girlfriends to not get caught by the teachers, which felt weird to do behind the backs of the twins who had often helped you at the time - the same way you would help them sneak around. The situation was rather complicated because of that, but you made do, and if it meant being able to be with Wanda, you would take it. Even if you knew the situation was unsustainable in the long term. For now you were enjoying reading on the lounge chair for your upcoming university year. Billy was doing the same thing next to you, and Tommy was swimming in the pool so fast that you were surprised he didn't hit his head on something. More surprising, you could hear Wanda singing from the kitchen - she was cooking and refused any help despite you trying to offer it.
"Mom seems really happy lately," Billy commented offhandedly, getting his brother's attention in the process.
"Yeah," he breathed loudly as he stopped swimming, "it's kind of creepy."
Billy snorted at that and you shook your head in amusement. He put his book back and took his phone which was vibrating in his hand.
"I don't know, I like her being happy. Dad is calling, give me a second."
"Okay momma's boy. Tell him I say hi." Tommy disappeared back in the water, and you put your nose back into your book, trying not to spy on the conversation.
Quickly, Billy disappeared inside. You frowned a bit and wondered what was happening. An answer came five minutes later when he came back and sat down on the edge of the lounge chair to look at you guiltily.
"I'm sorry Y/n, my dad won't be able to take you with us. Apparently he wants us to meet his new girlfriend's kids and there won't be enough space."
"Oh," you blinked a few times, unsure of what to say right now.
"Mom says you'll talk together about what you want to do for that month." He put his hand on your shoulder. You processed the information. What were you supposed to do? All that you knew was that there was no more singing coming from the kitchen.
Later that evening, after you had all enjoyed a delicious fresh dish prepared by Wanda, you found her on the balcony. You approached her from behind and put your hands on the railing on each side of her. Delicatly, you kissed her shoulder, then her cheek, and she leaned right against you. You embraced her and swayed a few times before you settled.
"I hate when Vision springs things like this on me." Her hands settled on your arms. "It's only two days until his turn with Tommy and Billy and he couldn't bother informing me before? What if I had something already organized, a trip, or a mission? Then I would have been in a conundrum."
"I don't have to stay here you know?" You wouldn't be happy about it but you could. She turned around, a frown on her face.
"That's not what I meant, detka. I'm annoyed at his selfishness, but also… I'm happy at the idea of the both of us having alone time."
She kissed you briefly and you couldn't help a smile. You felt better upon hearing her saying she wanted you there.
"So, does that mean I'm staying?" You still asked to make sure.
"If you want to," she confirmed with a smile of her own. You caressed her cheek and placed some hair on the side of her face. The setting sun was hitting her and illuminating her features, creating a halo around her with the way her hair caught the rays on its strands, and a fire in your heart from the green of her eyes so lovingly looking at you.
"I want to," you answered with no doubt.
She jumped at you, her arms around your neck, and you spinned together before you put her down with a laugh. The upcoming month promised to be interesting.
*
"Are you sure you don't want us to stay?" Tommy asked with his sunglasses on his head. He had told you multiple times already that he was ready to protest his dad's decision by staying with you for the month to come, and you knew Billy would follow along with that decision. "We don't want to leave you alone."
"Yes, just enjoy your time with your dad. I'll be okay here. And I'm not alone, Wanda is here." You knew they wouldn't understand why you were unbothered by being with Wanda alone, and you somehow felt bad about it too. Keeping a secret from your best friends was hard but you knew it was better that way for now.
"Okay, but if you change your mind, we can always come back."
"Thank you, I appreciate it. Now go, your dad is waiting."
Tommy nodded and his sunglasses fell on his nose. He adjusted them, and with a side hug from him and Billy, you said your goodbyes, Wanda getting hugs from the both of them too. It was only for a month, but you knew you were going to miss them. Though for now, you had other things in mind.
"What do you want to do now?" You asked with a smirk once Vision's car was gone. Wanda put her hands on your shoulders, amused, and pushed you into the living room.
"Well, now I can do whatever I want," she seductively suggested as she kissed your jawline, going up to your ear. A shiver ran down your spine when you felt her breath. "So why don't we… take a trip?"
You tilted your head in order to be able to look at her. She smirked at first, then tried to look innocent.
"A trip where?" You asked, your curiosity piqued, but also aware that you had no money to go anywhere, and no passport. "Cause it'll have to be to the gas station."
"I was thinking more… Paris?" She suggested as she bit her lip. The idea of going on a trip with her was incredibly tempting. Waking up together, visiting museums, going to restaurants, walking at night around the city. It would be a dream come true. But once again… "I'd pay for everything."
Oh. That would… wait, no, still no passport. And you couldn't in good conscience let her pay for everything.
"I can't let you do that."
"Of course you can. You'll just have to invite me on a trip when you're accomplished with your own money." She shrugs like it was nothing, not talking about the fact you wouldn't be able to pay for anything for a few years at least. So you looked for another excuse, which presented itself.
"I don't have a passport," you said with disappointment.
"Don't worry about it, I can get one for you by tomorrow." She smiled tenderly and put her hand on your cheek while you thought about it. You kissed her palm and nodded in the end.
"Okay, let's do this."
Looked like you were going to Paris.
*
The same day at night, while you were watching a movie cuddled up together, you heard a knock on the door. Wanda had told you that your passport would be ready by tomorrow, but you didn't expect someone to actually show up at your door the very same night. You put your arm away from her shoulders so she could stand up, and you followed her curiously to the door. You expected a random agent or someone like that to bring it to you, but when she opened the door your eyebrows went up on your forehead.
"Nat!" Wanda exclaimed, visibly as surprised as you were. The redhead showed the passport to the both of you by holding it up in her hand. "I didn't expect you to bring it in person."
"What can I say, I wanted to meet your new girlfriend."
The both of you immediately blushed; you never really talked about relationship status, so having it qualified like that was new territory for you. You and Wanda exchanged a look and Natasha immediately caught on to it. She raised a very amused eyebrow and took a step inside the house. She held out the passport to you and you took it out of reflex.
"So you're Y/n, hm? You're less impressive than I imagined. Maybe we should train together someday."
"Please don't," Wanda said as she started to push Natasha out of the house. When she was out and the door was closed, you finally blinked yourself back to life.
"Thank you for the passport," you muttered to yourself before you turned to Wanda, confusion on your features. "What was that?"
The witch pinched her lips. "That was my best friend, who has been very bored since she retired."
There was a beat of silence while you processed all that just happened. In the end, there was only one thing that really mattered to you after all that. You grabbed Wanda's hand and brought it to your lips, looking at her above it.
"Sooo, are we girlfriends?" You asked with a small smirk but a blush on your cheeks nonetheless.
"Yes. Yes we are," she confirmed with a smile and a blush of her own. You kissed her hand and took her in your arms to kiss her lips this time.
"Sounds perfect." She kissed you again and you took the time to enjoy it.
You went back to the movie, and then you prepared yourself for bed. You went for a short and some t-shirt before you stopped in front of the open door to Wanda's room to say goodnight. You had never taken the time to really look inside out of respect for her, but you couldn't help yourself this time. There were some crystals and books on the shelves, a guitar on the wall, a few masquerade masks above the bed, and pictures of her family here and there. She was in front of a massive but low bed with dark purple bed sheets, wearing something similar to you, with her hair flowing around her pretty face.
"I came to say good night," you said, getting her attention. She turned around and your heart skipped a beat seeing her like that. You wanted to stay with her longer, but you had a big day tomorrow of preparing and going to the airport, and you never shared a room so far. You didn't want to overstep.
"You can come in," she offered and you took it, walking one step forward inside the room. It smelled like her and you immediately felt like she was all around you, relaxing your shoulders when her eyes fell on yours. A small, timid smile graced her lips when she approached you, grabbed your shirt and gave you a chaste kiss. "Stay for the night?"
The offer took you by surprise. You never slept in the same bed before, mainly because it was too dangerous with the boys under the same roof, but also in respect to her boundaries. You also didn't want to look desperate by asking.
You nodded, mouth agape at her proposition.
"Gladly," you finally answered and she clinged onto you. You quickly let your arms fall into place around her. After what felt like an ideal forever, you both went under the covers of the bed, staying far apart at first until you decided to take her hand and bring her closer to you.
"It's been a long time since I had anyone in my bed," she confided in you. You hummed, letting her go where she needed with her train of thought. "I… I've never been with a woman. I've always known I was bi, but I never had the opportunity. I hope you're not disappointed."
"Why would I be disappointed?" You asked in confusion, and she shrugged, not daring to look you in the eyes. You gently grabbed her chin and had her look at you. "For me, you're perfect, Wanda."
The emotions in her eyes were giving them a glint, and a few tears rolled down her cheeks. You rubbed the tears away with an understanding smile, and kissed her forehead before she kissed your lips hungrily. She straddled you with no warning, igniting something in you, making you grab her hips to stabilize her against you long enough to reverse your positions. Without any thoughts, you grind your hips against her core and a moan escaped her. It immediately made you realize what you were doing and you broke the ongoing kiss.
"I'm sorry, I–"
"No, it's okay," she told you, one hand finding purchase behind your neck. "Don't stop now."
Your mouth dried, your heart rate went straight to heaven, and a fire spread inside of you like wildfire. And so you did what you were told.
Your kiss got deep and fierce, leaving your lips bruised, and you pushed against her again, feeling how warm the inside of her legs was. She moaned in your mouth, and that made you smile. You took the opportunity to kiss her jawline and her neck, feeling her pulse against your lips before you traced a line with your tongue. It made her all breathy, even more so when your teeth scraped her skin and finally settled on her pulse point where you started to mark her.
Meanwhile one of your hands moved to her stomach under her shirt, tracing up her abdomen and tracing down, going around her navel, before going up again. Then you pushed her up towards you to start taking off her shirt, an effort that didn't go ignored when she helped you take it off. Once done, you took the time to admire her; her shoulders were slender, giving way to her collarbones, then her round breast with their perky, pink nipples, and her abdomen which bore the marks of motherhood.
"Yours now," she breathed heavily, pushing you upright to take off your shirt. He hand steadied when she started to reveal your body and with it the scars of your mistreatment. They were faded and hardly visible if you didn't know what to look for from afar, so it was the first time she noticed them. With your shirt out of the way, you wanted to get back to worshiping her body, but you waited for her as she traced the lighter scars on your skin. It gave you goosebumps. But slowly you took her hand, and gave her a reassuring smile.
"It's nothing," you whispered before kissing her hungrily. The passion quickly returned and it was like there had been no interruption.
You kissed her collarbone, and quickly found your way to her right breast. Her nipple was just waiting for you, all hard and tender, and you took it in your mouth to play with it. Her moans encouraged you to slip your hand on top of her crotch. Even through her pajama shorts you were able to feel how wet she was. You massaged her through the fabric, making her back arch in search for more friction. You were quick to give it to her after your hand went under her shorts, touching her hairs and flesh, cupping her to give her more purchase against your hand. While doing this, you dipped two fingers between her folds to coat them in her wetness, playing with her entrance at the same time. You moved your thumb over her clit and formed small circles over the bundle of nerves. The answer was immediate, her hands dug into your hair and gripped them strongly. She brought you back up for a hungry kiss and you happily kissed back. Her hands moved from your hair to your back, just as you pressed two fingers inside her, and the pain of her fingernails digging into your skin was the best reward you could wish for.
"God, you're so wet," you said against her lips, not moving inside of her.
"Pl-please…" she pleaded. You hummed, a small smirk on your lips to see her all pretty like that, begging for you, her cheeks red from the pleasure. "More… please."
You gave her a kiss and started moving your fingers inside of her. Her moans were a litany, a song you could listen to for hours on end. You went faster, but still took your time, slowing down from time to time to have her plead for more only to pick up the pace again and add a finger. She finally came, gushing on your hand and you slowed down for good.
"That… that felt good," she said, still breathing hard, and there was a spark in your eyes.
"Felt? Who said it was over?"
And before she had the chance to say anything, your face was between her legs and she was moaning again.
You pleasured her multiple times, until she tapped out for good on her fifth orgasm. Your face was damp with her fluids and your fingers had wrinkled, but it felt good to pleasure her so much. Despite how tired she was after all that, she insisted on taking care of you too. She explored your body with the same reverence you did hers, and you guided her to your own orgasm.
Bone tired, you took a quick shower together before going back to bed naked and falling asleep in each other's arms.
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Waterlog || pjm (1)
Pairing: Jimin x Reader Other tags: Olympic Swimmer!Jimin, Ex Olympic Swimmer! Reader, Swim Coach!Reader Genre: Strangers to Friends to Lovers!AU, Coach!AU, Swimming!AU, Age Gap!AU, HEAVY Angst, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, fluff, eventual smut, I'm so soft for these two it's crazy. Word Count: 17.4k+ Synopsis: After a car accident ends her athletic career, Y/N has slowly started rebuilding her life again as a high school swim coach. That’s until she gets a request from an old friend and finds herself back in the spotlight as the new coach of Olympic swimmer, Park Jimin. Warnings: discussions of significant death (does not happen in story), talks of a bad car accident, talks of drunk driving (please drinking responsibly), more than likely wrong swimming terms and poor understanding of how the Olympics actually works (I did so much research, pls be nice to me lol), strong language, lots of mental health discussions, reader has mommy and daddy issues, Older reader, Jimin is a complete sweetie, the tamest chapter of them all A/N: Well, well, well, look who came back. I first wrote Waterlog back in 2021, and while I enjoy the premise, I hate the finished product. I wanted to go back and edit/fix what I originally had, but when I tried it became so different, I was better off rewriting the entire thing. I hope you guys like this mini-series. If you would like to read the original go to my blog archive. Thank you for reading!
masterlist || next || playlist
Staring at the pool, I managed to calm myself with relative ease. Jin had been right, physical therapy had made things easier. The water glistened prettily in the lights, and I waited with bated breath for my trainer to come in.
Emery was a sweet guy, pretty with a lip ring and tattoos, but with a surprising amount of shyness it was laughable. His softness was offset by his powerful muscles, and I enjoyed his never-ending sense of humor. Unlike Dr.Maddox, Emery treated me like I was a normal person. Not an Olympian who almost lost her leg in an accident, or the woman whose fiancé died. I was just Y/N, and it was a relief to be around him.
Running my fingers along the scars on my leg, I mindlessly drew patterns around them in the silence. It was not normal for Emery to take this long, but his assistant had said he was running behind due to another patient, so I was unbothered. I had planned my entire day around this, so I was in no rush.
Finally, the door swung open revealing a disheveled Emery. Breathing heavier than usual, he rolled his eyes at me in frustration before saying his pleasantries. Whoever it had been had gotten him worked up.
“Rough morning?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
With an annoyed sigh, he nodded.
“I shouldn’t say this, but I hope that woman never comes back here.”
I laughed, “We all have that someone. Don’t feel too bad.”
Shaking his head, I could tell it took restraint on his part not to rant and rave about the woman who had left. Emery and I were more friendly than most. I had been seeing him for over two years now, but we still kept a semblance of a professional relationship. Especially Emery.
“How’s the kids?” He asked, making small talk as we started getting ready for a swim.
I was the coach of a high school swim team in town, something I talked about quite a bit, and Emery always liked hearing about. He was a great water polo player but chose to go into physical therapy while he was in college. After seeing one of his friends get injured and how much physical therapy had helped him, Emery decided to change his major. Four years later, he says he could never see himself doing anything else.
“They’re doing well,” I said honestly. “We got a couple of freshmen on the team, but they’re doing a lot better than I thought they would.”
Emery hummed, offering me assistance getting into the pool. While walking had been mostly figured out, the obvious limp aside, I still had some trouble with getting in-and-out of things. Even my bathtub had to be switched out since I was unable to step over it. I still used the medical chair while in there, too.
The water was cool against my skin, and I felt instantly relieved. The dull aches and pains left as soon as I got into the water. Swimming to my usual spot, I waited patiently for Emery to join me.
“That’s great to hear,” He smiled.
Going to the edge of the pool, Emery grabbed a set of barbells and handed them to me. Taking them, the two of us went over the workout plan for the day. Pulling himself up on the pool’s edge, Emery picked up his stopwatch and told me to begin.
Getting on the interstate, I sang along to the radio as I made my way to Hoseok’s. The two of us had been friends since high school, our mutual love for swimming making it impossible to keep apart, and only growing with time. He was one of my biggest support systems after the accident. Both of us had retired years ago now, but I remembered our days as Olympians fondly. Those were the best years of my life.
A small group of our friends were getting together at his house to watch the summer Olympics this afternoon. The women’s swimming finals were happening today, and I knew two of the girls competing. Turning on my blinker, I quickly got off the interstate.
Pressing around my car’s radio screen, I went to my contacts and pressed Andy’s number. She was off today and in charge of getting everything together. Hoseok had tried to do it himself, but always seemed to forget who should do what and ended up buying everything himself. She picked up after the fourth ring.
“What’s up, sugar?” Andy greeted, her voice soft and light. Her Memphis accent was thick and brought a smile to my face. Everyone had made jokes about her being southern when we first met. “Don’t tell me you’re missing Nationals.”
I shook my head even though she could not see me.
“I’m on my way,” I replied. “What should I pick up? I completely forgot.”
Andy sighed, “You’re just as bad as Jin.”
Seokjin was Andy’s husband. The two of them had been together whenever they moved to Colorado, married before I ever met them, and became quick friends with Hoseok when they moved to the Springs. That was how I had met them. Whenever their daughter Dani was born, Andy had asked me to be her Godmother and I sobbed in her lap. They were my closest friends next to Hoseok. Jin was indeed very forgetful, though, and the jibe made me chuckle.
“Cut me some slack,” I argued. “I’ve been working out for two hours straight.”
I could hear the smile in her voice, “Just get some pizza or something. We’re picking up some wings and Hobi’s in charge of the drinks. Minho and Tilly are bringing… something. I don’t even know anymore.”
Fully laughing now, I saw a Little Ceasars up ahead and got into the correct lane. Minho and Matilda were loose cannons when it came to our parties. While sweet, and fiercely loyal, I found myself wondering why I hung out with them at times. We were night and day personality wise, but I loved them dearly. Minho would probably bring some Korean side dishes from home, and Matilda would pick up a few packs of ramen from the store. Andy was stressing over nothing again. I hoped she was getting proper rest on her days off.
“I’m at Little Caesars,” I told her, parking my car. “I’m going to get the basics. How many things of Crazy Bread should I get?”
She thought for a second before replying.
“Five?” She was definitely unsure about her answer.
It was hard to gauge just how hungry everyone would be, and Jin was a bottomless pit.
“Sounds good,” I said instead, already thinking about getting more.
“Drive safe. See you in a bit.”
“See you, Andy,” I unplugged my phone from the charger.
Pressing it to my ear, I pressed my start button and turned it off. I climbed out of my car and started walking to the store.
“Love you,” She sing-songed playfully.
“Love you, too,” I replied. Opening the door, a worker greeted me with a smile. “I’m about to order.”
Shoving my phone in my back pocket, I gave the worker an awkward smile before telling him my order. I ended up getting seven bags instead of five. Just in case. Dani really liked the stuff and Jin could smash an entire bag by himself. While I waited for the cheese pizza to come out of the oven, my phone started ringing.
“Hello?” I answered, unable to check the caller ID while the cashier shoved the crazy bread into my arms.
“I heard from a little bird that you’re thinking about competing again.”
I grinned and thanked the cashier as she handed me my other pizza.
“Hello to you, too, Frank,” I replied. “And your little birdie wouldn’t happen to be Hoseok, would it?”
Frank and Sarah Boone had become a part of my life after the accident. They ran a local support group to help those affected by drunk drivers to get connected with resources and therapy. The two had lost their son when he decided to drive home drunk from a party and used the group as their own coping mechanism. They were wonderful people and owned their own joint coffee shop and bookstore in Denver.
“Won’t say names,” He chuckled, “But it might have come from a certain part-timer. So, is it true?”
I placed the boxes in the passenger seat and rounded my car. This was not a conversation I was expecting to happen today. I had brought up the idea to Hoseok since the Olympics were coming up next year, but I was not committed to it. I was enjoying my new job coaching and did not think I was in any condition for competition. When he brought up the Paralympics I laughed. Those competitors were in better shape than I was, and I doubted I would qualify. I was disabled but my disability did not (as far as I knew) carry over into the pool.
“I was just talking shit, Frank,” Backing out of the parking space, I put in Hoseok’s address and started to drive. Switching over to my car’s phone, I put my phone down and looked at the road. “You know I’m happy with my life right now.”
He made a grunting noise that told me he did not really believe me. No one did. All of them were sure I was miserable about my career ending far before its time, and while that may be true, I felt more loss about the life I was supposed to have than winning medals. I missed Namjoon more than any medal. Frank and Sarah understood that.
“I know that,” He cleared his throat, and I could hear the congestion. Frank had come down with a nasty case of walking pneumonia two weeks ago and was still recovering. “Just got a little excited is all. It would be nice to see you putting yourself back out there.”
It would be nice to see myself back in the pool, I could admit that. I had dreams of it at times. Being a competitor was a part of who I was. From the first time my dad took me to my swim classes when I was six all the way until I claimed my eighth Olympic medal, everyone had said there was nothing I hated more than losing. I was fiery, free-spirited, and kept my eyes on the prize. It was the thing Namjoon loved about me the most. That made me frown.
“I left a champ,” I forced a laugh. “Need to save some gold for the rest of them.”
Hiding behind humor was a pastime.
Frank laughed, oblivious to the hollowness in my tone. “Heard they have a new guy taking your place.”
That made me snort, “He’s not taking my spot. Totally different competitions, my friend.”
“Winning gold like you, that’s for damn sure.”
It must be Jimin Park. The kid turned up on the scene a year after my accident. He was a very, very talented swimmer. Fast as a bullet with the best butterflies I had ever seen, Park was a force to be reckoned with in the men’s league. It was a joy to watch him swim and this year would be his first Olympics. Hoseok and I were very excited to watch him.
“If you’re talking about Park,” I chuckled. “He’s far from new. He’s been competing for a few years now. First Olympics, though.”
“He’s young, ain’t he?”
I nodded, “23, I think.”
Truthfully, I did not know how old he was. I remember the buzz around how young he was when he first broke out on the scene. He was eighteen when he took home gold all season before a family emergency took him out of the Olympics last minute. No one knew what really happened, but his team had said his brother was in an accident, tragically losing his life, and Jimin was prioritizing his family. He’s competed every year since and with the Olympics next year, I was certain Park would be there. He deserved it.
I was parked in front of the house now and from the cars outside, I was the last person to arrive. Frank and I talked for a few moments. It was cute how much he had learned about swimming so we could be buddies. Sarah was the only person who recognized my face when I first started going to the meetings and her husband was determined to get me to open after weeks of sitting in bitter silence in the back.
We hung up after I promised I would make it to the meeting next Thursday. Frank was not happy about me skipping the past two weeks, but understood I was taking some time to myself. My boys were going to compete this year, I had fought tooth and nail for that funding, and the extra hours at school were exhausting. Jeremy and Evan showed promise, but they knew how to drive me up the wall with all of their simple mistakes.
As I suspected, the party was in full swing. Matilda and Minho were laughing loudly on the sofa, Hoseok sporting a beer in the recliner next to them, and Dani practicing her gymnastics in the middle of it all. I could hear the commentators talking animatedly about the girls, who they believed would come out on top and highlights from the night before, but I never really paid them any mind.
“Pizza’s here!” Minho boomed, practically running to greet me.
I laughed, handing over the boxes, “Need help carrying the rest in.”
Matilda offered, happily taking my car keys and leaving the house. Minho had disappeared into the kitchen. Dani spared me enough attention for a smile and wave before launching into excited pleas for me to watch her new moves.
“Super cool, babe,” I smiled sweetly after her handstand. Dani was not particularly good at gymnastics. She started later than the other girls, rarely did anything she was actively afraid of, and hated her coach. Andy was already looking for a better gym, but I just thought she should start pointing her in another direction. Dani loved dancing and she would be a wonderful ballerina or figure skater if given the proper training. The Kim’s, however, seemed fine watching her deal with gymnastics and cheerleading. “You’re getting better.”
Dani beamed, “Daddy said the same thing.”
Flipping the right way around, her hair coming out of its messily tied bun and falling down past her shoulders. Brown, loose waves made her look so much younger than her eight years, her small stature only selling the illusion even more. Her skin was smooth, and she always looked as though she had been playing outside in the sun, a constant tinge of pink beneath her sandy skin. Her features favored her father, large eyes, long face, and plush, pillow-like lips, but after meeting Andy’s parents, I could see her grandmother hidden within the mischievous glint in her eyes and too small ears.
“Your dad’s a smart guy,” I joked.
She continued to babble away as I made myself more comfortable, kicking off my shoes and tossing my hat onto the small buffet table that sat above the shoe rack. Matilda came back inside, her arms filled with bags of bread, and I took two from the pile. With a thankful, thin-lipped grin, she also complimented Dani’s moves before disappearing around the corner in the direction of the kitchen.
“Dani,” Hoseok seemed to have finally grown tired of hearing the girl talk. I would imagine this was all he had been hearing since he arrived. “Do you want to color with me?”
The little girl clapped happily, her eyes bright and shining, before abandoning her mat to gather a few coloring books and her massive hoard of crayons. Hoseok looked at me then, a sly smile on his face before winking. I chuckled and shook my head. He always did that to make her shut up.
I left the living room before Dani came back. I loved her dearly, but I could admit she talked too much. It was a good thing for a kid her age to be so social but that did not mean I wanted to hear her every waking thought. Andrea and Seokjin were the only parents in our little group, and I imagined it would stay that way for a while. Even if my dreams of children were still alive, I did not have anybody I wanted to take on that responsibility with.
Minho was eating the pizza, as expected, while Matilda had already claimed her own bag of Crazy Bread. Andy and Jin were snuggled up at their dining table, his arms securing her to his chest, and she curled into him. I loved watching them together. I had grown up in a house with two people who hated one another, barely kept up a facade of civility before my mother skipped down to be with her new boyfriend in Florida leaving my dad and I behind in Pennsylvania. We made it work but things were never the same after that. It made me happy to know little Dani would feel the love radiating in her home as she grew up. I had never seen two people so enamored with one another in my life- not even Namjoon and I.
“How was therapy?” Minho asked after we exchanged pleasantries. “Hoseok said you were talking about competing next season.”
I laughed in disbelief. That man did not know how to keep his mouth shut. I said the same thing I told Frank over the phone, and he scoffed. Minho never truly laughed, if I was honest. It was always a snicker, scoff, or chuckle. He was a man of little words and even fewer outbursts of joy, and I found his versions of those things just as reserved as the rest of him. He was the most expressive when he smiled, but those were just as rare as a genuine laugh. Dani managed to squeeze more out of him than anybody else.
“Stop meddling!” Andy scolded the other man from her spot in Seokjin’s lap.
“Never,” My friend replied, amusement clear in his voice.
“Never!” Dani echoed, voice louder than Hoseok’s. She was giggling happily alongside him, and I rolled my eyes. He was her favorite. “Never!” She repeated again, pleased when Hoseok laughed. “Never!”
“That’s enough,” Jin’s voice was even and smooth.
Dani did not shout again but we could all hear her and Hoseok attempting to cover up their laughter. Andy smiled fondly. Their little friendship had warmed her heart. After Dani, Andrea had been diagnosed with cervical cancer. It had come back six times before her doctor said she needed to get a hysterectomy. She grieved the children they would never have, the large family she dreamed of stolen from her, but once Dani was old enough to walk, she had been glued to Hoseok’s hip.
Hoseok for all he spoke about never wanting children, he adored Dani. His family was small, he and his sister the only children, but they were extremely close. She lived in New York City as a fashion designer and got married last year, and I always had the feeling Hoseok felt lonely without her. Dani was a welcome break from routine and made him feel special. It was sweet but I hoped my friend would find someone to share his life with someday.
“It’s starting,” Hoseok announced.
It was a great day for the U.S. Opal Simmons was one to look out for. She was the oldest woman on the team, a shocking 24, but she could out swim a vast majority of them. Her freestyles were amazing, earning her a gold with Japan just a few points behind. I was hopeful she would be able to come out on top in her distance swim. While not the fastest in the pool, the girl knew how to pace herself. The cameras cut to the shot of one of her coaches smiling triumphantly at the performance.
He was a good friend of mine, Oswald Bunch. He had been heavily involved with the Olympics for years now, promoted to one of the lead coaches back in 2020, but I remembered when he was still competing. A few years older than me, Ozzie was known for his backstrokes and long-distance swimming, and we bonded whenever we got the chance to meet in London back in 2012.
That was my first Olympics. I was a fresh-faced 20-year-old on a mission. My team at the time was stoked to have me around and I was excited to be there. I had built up a solid reputation over the course of two years, winning seven medals my first adult-competitive season, and the high was incredible. Back then, I was always the one to beat at the breaststroke and therefore, the medleys were in my favor as well. I walked away with 4 golds that year, and again in 2016. The accident happened a year later, but I left the competitive world with 8 gold Olympic medals and 19 world champion gold medals. Katie Ledecky held the record now, but for a time, I was the most decorated female swimmer in history. I was excited when I was finally passed up, happy for the younger woman.
Ozzie was the man, but sadly never got out of Michael Phelp’s shadow. It was not his fault. That man was insane in the water and would become the most decorated Olympian ever. Bunch was a great swimmer, but I did not know a single person who could compare to Phelps. Hoseok, maybe, but he only had 12 gold medals. Phelps had 23.
“Simmons looks great out there,” Hoseok praised, a large smile on his face.
“Her butterflies could use a little work,” I murmured back, already seeing how I could fix it with some extra exercises. “It’s slowing down her freestyle. What else is she scheduled for?”
“I think she’s doing the 200-meter freestyles and the medley relay,” He replied, taking a sip of his beer. “Bunch is banking on her pacing.”
“She won’t win those,” I was positive. “She’s just going to get tired. Breaststrokes are obviously not her thing.”
He laughed, “You’re the breaststroke queen, Y/N. No one's as good as yours.”
I shrugged, “Ledecky is a great swimmer.”
“Never said she wasn’t,” He sipped. “Her freestyles are killer. Girls could never beat you in breaststroke or a medley. You’re untouchable there.”
It made me smile despite myself. Hoseok was right, those were my competitions. Even if Katie had surpassed my record for most gold medals ever, I still had more Olympic medals than she did, and they were in completely different events. I could have kept my title had the accident never happened. I would have. Even if we were friendly, Ledecky would have been my competition, and I would have fought hard to keep the record.
“What’s Jimin doing this year?” Matilda asked as the women’s scores were posted. Opal would be a strong contender. “Anyone know?”
I nodded, “I haven’t watched every competition, but he’s sticking to what he does best. Didn’t he swim the 200 yesterday?”
“Yeah,” Hoseok replied. “He’s skipping out today and doing his individual tomorrow. Swimming back-to-back after that. Kid’s a fucking animal in the water.”
I couldn't agree more. As I stared at Opal’s smiling face, her pale blonde hair and bright blue eyes, I wished I had been able to watch Jimin instead. She was cold and impassive even with a large, perfectly white grin that took up most of her face. In fact, I found her quite boring outside of the water. No flair or features that set her apart. Just a tall, well-built blonde with a nice smile. Ozzie would have to work hard to make her memorable.
“Simmons did well,” I yawned. “It’s getting late, though, and I have work in the morning.”
The goodbyes were quick, and Dani made me promise to take her roller skating soon. There was a girl at school making fun of her and she wanted her “super cool” and “famous” aunt to tell them off. We all laughed, and I told her we could go this weekend after gymnastics practice.
My drive home was uneventful. It was already dark out, something that bothered me more than I would ever admit out loud, and I never turned on the radio. I preferred to drive in absolute silence, eyes and ears glued to the road. I had only started talking on the phone recently.
I was much worse after the accident. I refused to get inside of a car for weeks and if I did, I was a mess. No one was allowed to be a distracted driver either. No radio, no phone, no conversations. Nothing. Jin had been the default chauffeur during that time and put up with my anxiety better than the others.
It was close to a year before I tried to sit in the front seat again. Another five before I got behind the wheel. For hours I would sit in the garage with my hands on the steering wheel staring off into the distance. I was still in a wheelchair for most of my daily activities and a very obvious limp made me too self-conscious to be seen. Isolating was easy. Keeping the others away was more difficult.
My drives started with me just backing out of the driveway. I went around the block a few weeks later, hands shaking and Andy trying her best to soothe me in the passenger seat. I did not drive past the Whole Foods two minutes away from my house until after the second year. Things were easier after I ditched the wheelchair and got more open to the idea of therapy.
Moving out of Denver was the best decision I ever made, the Springs were easier to drive in and the traffic was not as awful. Andrea and Jin bought in Black Forest once I was settled in Briargate, so loneliness was never an option.
Matilda almost moved in after the housewarming party Andy threw for me. She said it was far too big for one person and the neighborhood was to die for. I laughed her off at the time not really wanting to admit how nice it sounded.
Nestled in Fairfax, my house was a beautiful piece of architecture. The striking brick and wood front exterior provided a warm welcome, with teal trimmings bringing a fresh feeling to the otherwise plain color scheme. With five bedrooms and four bathrooms, I dreamed of the day I was able to fill them all. A dream that I hoped would come before I hit 35.
Pulling up to the house, I waved to Chika next door. The old woman raised her hand, still nursing a large mug of what I assumed to be tea and smiled. They were lovely people and we often helped one another out whenever we could. Chika liked to bring over food if she cooked and I paid my landscapers to keep with their lawn.
“Late night?” Chika called out from her front porch.
“Went to a friend’s house,” I replied.
“Good,” She meant it. “Glad to see you getting out of the house.”
I smiled but was not sure how well she could see my face in the dark.
“Yeah. Night, Chika.”
“Night, Y/N.”
I showered quickly and sipped on a cup of chamomile tea before heading off to bed. After taking my night medications, one to force myself to sleep while the other blocked the never-ending nightmares, I climbed into bed. I was able to play a single game of solitaire before they both kicked in. I fell asleep with the sound of gentle rain humming in the background.
“Let’s go, guys!” I yelled, blowing my whistle.
The twelve boys waited, their small talk coming to an abrupt end. We had just finished warming up and I allowed all of them a short water break. I was a huge advocate for rest periods. No one needed to pull a muscle or fatigue early due to over working. I had a 2800-yard routine prepared, 800 of those done during our warm-ups, and the rest divided between our main set and cooldowns.
Jordan, our captain, was smiling happily. He was such an excited kid, and his positivity was contagious. While some of the boys were disappointed when I first chose him to replace our old captain after his graduation, I was sure his spirit would do everyone some good. It did not take long for the others to come around and he was beloved.
“Alright, so we have a 1600 main set. In between each of our reps, we will be doing a switch out of easy breast and backstrokes. Clear?”
“Crystal!” They all replied in unison.
“Alright. That's what I like to hear,” Flipping through my clipboard was more for show than anything. I used to rely on it heavily when I first started teaching since brain damage messed with my short-term memory, but I had been doing this long enough to know what was happening. Now it was just a way for me to write notes about their performances. “We’re starting with a 4x100 with 15-second rest; the first 25 butterfly. 3x100 with 10-second rest; again, first 25 butterfly. Following?”
No questions were asked, and a few guys voiced they were good for me to keep going.
“Good. Then we have a 2x100 with 5-second rest. First 25?”
“Butterfly,” Jordan replied.
“Thank you, Abbot. Okay, and we’re finishing up with 8x50 freestyle. Fast and easy.”
All twelve of them began to prepare to take their mark. One by one they stood on their blocks and waited for me to make the call. I admired them all for a moment. You could see the difference in each one of them. Those who were confident stood tall, their shoulders squared, and head held high. Newcomers were still figuring out their place on the team but were eager to prove themselves. Two of them would be leaving us this year, Gabriel and Marcus, and neither one of them were continuing to swim after graduation. It was a sad thought, but I was happy with how they carried themselves. They had both come a long way.
“Take your mark,” My voice echoed. Each boy got into their starting position as I watched them like a hawk. One of the freshmen, Phineas, needed major work on his form. I would talk to Jordan about it. Grabbing hold of my stopwatch, I took a deep breath. “Go!”
Marcus was the first in, like always, and I ignored him. I knew he was fully capable of taking care of himself. Phineas was the weakest link in my chain right now. He was struggling, his arms growing tired and his speed nonexistent. The other freshmen, Tobias, or as the guys called him, Twig, was not much better. He had more strength, but I chopped that up to his size. I would need to really start working some more beginner drills to get them in shape. Jordan and Gabriel would be more than happy to give up a Saturday or two to help out.
Marcus was the first one finished and I marked his time. Still a tenth of a second faster than Jordan. After Jordan came Gabriel and then Joseph and Anthony. I was disappointed in Jett’s time, but I would invite him to the weekend practices with the others. He needed some foot and hip exercises. Twig came in before Phineas, but every other boy was already out of the water by the time they made it back. Phineas was visibly upset, and I made a note to pull him to the side after practice to cheer him up.
Practices typically lasted two hours and the boys swam hard. Phineas did, in fact, perk up after I told him I was noticing tons of improvements in his performance. Twig just seemed happy he was not the worst guy in the water. After talking it out with Jordan, we decided on a good weekend time for extra practices, and I stayed behind to print off a poster and signup sheets for the rest of the boys. I had a feeling almost everyone except Marcus would show. He had a part-time job now and his weekends were full.
Sitting in my office, I poured over my observations and timecards. With a team this large I should have an extra set of hands to help with timing. I sent an email to the principal asking about helpers and got back to the nitty gritty.
All of them could work on something. Phineas might have needed the most work, Twig not far behind him, but my most seasoned swimmers had room for improvement. Jett was still struggling with maximizing propulsion, Anthony and Milo needed to get better water balance, and Gabriel’s pull could be better. Even my best swimmers, Jordan and Marcus, could use a bit of refinement in technique. It was nitpicking but they were too talented to give up on their potential.
It was close to nine when my phone began to ring. I knew it could not be any of my usual calls. Andy was working nights this week and Jin was fast asleep at home with Dani. Minho was in bed by eight, Matilda would never bother me this late, and Hoseok hated phone calls. Checking the caller ID, I was shocked to see Ozzie’s name.
“Hello?” I answered tentatively, afraid he might have called me by accident.
“Otter,” Ozzie greeted me happily. He seemed so delighted that I answered, I smiled even though I hated the nickname. “How’s life going?”
I chuckled, “Rockin’ and rollin’. Saw your girl last night. Looks great, Oz.”
“Appreciate it,” He was so dismissive of it I became interested. This was not a catch-up phone call or else he might have hooked onto the bait. My stomach twisted in anticipation. If it was not for pleasantries, then it was for work and that was something to be excited about. “Still teaching high school?”
“Mhm,” I fiddled with my pencil, papers forgotten. “My boys team is strong. I only have three girls that signed up so we’re just training during P.E. and hoping some more join.”
We chatted a bit more about the team. The longer it went on the more knots I had. Oswald was fishing for something, and I wanted to figure out what. After telling him about Phineas, I asked what the random call was about.
“Always cutting to the chase,” He joked.
I did not laugh.
“Alright, you caught me,” Ozzie sighed. “Look, the Olympic team is looking for another assistant coach and your name came up a few times.”
My mouth went dry. I had heard about Tiara Marsh leaving to focus on her family. She had a baby and stepped down a few months after coming back from maternity leave. I respected the decision and messaged her my congratulations. Ozzie had taken the lead coach position three years ago with Todd Packer as his partner. The other assistant, Drew Jones, was a sweet girl from what I heard and working with her would be a dream.
Still, it was an impossible task. Trying to imagine myself on the sidelines, coaching the next big names in sporting history with a massive squad behind me made my stomach queasy. I doubt any of them respected me. My leg was ruined, my career burned out just as quickly as it started, and I never had the chance to reach my peak. Now I am a 30-year-old washed up recluse. Just thinking about the media frenzy made my breathing get a little heavier.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Oz,” I murmured.
“I told them you wouldn’t go for it,” He replied, unsurprised. “They’re going to approach Storm Kline instead.”
“Oh,” Now I was confused. “Why’d you bring it up then?”
“Because I got to thinking,” I braced myself. Ozzie was known for his big, bright, dumb, impulsive ideas. “I knew the Olympics would be asking too much of you. Cameras and interviews are the last thing you want after the fucking circus you went through last time.”
That was an understatement. Circus did not even begin to describe the absolute hell the media put me through after the accident. So many speculations and insensitive remarks managed to ruin any peace I could have gotten during that time.
While I was in a coma, no one knowing if I would ever wake up again, the news thought it wise to harass my friends and family. My old coach, Victor Stanley, was assaulted whenever he left the hospital. When news got out that Namjoon was pulled off life support, his mother and father were so sick and tired of people parked outside their house they packed up and moved away before I even woke up. I wanted nothing to do with the media after that.
“It’s a little different but I think you’d be a great fit for the job,” Ozzie continued. “One of my boys, Jimin Park, is in need of a personal coach. His mom is sick and he’s wanting to stay in Michigan for as long as he can before coming out to the Springs to start training for Paris.
“I almost called Jung, but I don’t think the two of them would get along well enough for this to work. You’re the only person I know I can trust with him, and from what I’m hearing, you’re one hell of a coach already.”
This was somehow even more nerve wracking than the assistant position. I had never trained one-on-one before, at least, not long term. I was sure I could do it, but a high schooler was very different from an Olympic athlete relying on me to keep him in shape for the season.
“What happened to Hamilton?” I asked, still unable to wrap my head around the situation. “I thought he was Park’s personal trainer.”
“He was but the two fell out when Jimin decided to stay in Michigan. You know how Matt is.”
That I did. Matthew Hamilton was a massive asshole, and that was putting it lightly. He was one of the best trainers around and got results which was why he still had a job despite his rotten attitude. I had the misfortune of running into him quite a few times over the years and my distaste only grew with each passing. I could imagine that conversation not going over particularly well.
“But what about my team?” I asked, staring at my desk. All of my plans and strategies were mapped out and I was ready to put them to use. My boys were counting on me and leaving them felt wrong. “I don’t want to leave them high and dry, Oz.”
“Ask Hoseok to cover for you,” I rolled my eyes at his blase attitude.
“This is my team.”
“And this is Jimin Park.”
I hated that I understood where he was coming from. Most of my boys would never go off to swim professionally and their skill set was not on par with anyone out right now. They were not committed to the strict regime that would take and I did not get paid well enough to justify the extra hours. Jimin, however, would pay me extremely well and I would get that experience under my belt. I might even learn a few new things to add to my own drills.
“Give me a few days to think about it,” I finally conceded. “And set up a phone call, or meeting, or something with the kid. Need to make sure we’re on the same page before we waste one another’s time.”
Ozzie laughed, “I think you’ll get along just fine, but sure. I think he’d appreciate the gesture.”
Nothing of much importance was said after that. We hung up with promises of talking soon and then I was alone once more. My office was still just as messy and swamped with paperwork as it had been before, but it all looked different. It felt like I was already gone, and a deep homesickness settled in my chest. I stared at the papers in front of me and sighed before shooting a text to Hoseok.
As I expected, everyone had told me to jump at the opportunity. Hoseok even said if I didn’t, I would be the biggest idiot he had ever met. Matilda asked if she could come (I told her no), and Dani just seemed bummed that we could not hang out anymore. Andy and Jin were the most supportive of the situation while Minho the most cautious. He was worried about the media catching wind of something and causing a frenzy. After Matila pointed out how old news I was, I felt a little less afraid of that possibility even if it was a hit to my ego.
Ozzie seemed pumped when I told him I was open to the idea if Jimin and I seemed to mesh well. I was firm in my decision to talk to him before making any concrete plans, and from what Ozzie told me, my future student was extremely receptive to the idea. I also learned that Opal was jealous of her fellow Olympian, but I tried not to let that puff up my chest.
That was why I was sitting in my home office, hair nicely styled and a light layer of makeup on waiting for Jimin to join our Zoom call. I wore blue since Ozzie said it was his favorite color, but the material was slowly driving me insane. While the color was nice, deep blue and sparkled whenever the light hit it, it was scratchy and irritated the skin around my chest and shoulders. I almost got up to change but a small icon with the letters ‘JP’ in the center popped up before I could.
“Hello?” A soft voice called out.
“Hey,” I replied with an awkward wave. “Can you see me?”
“Yeah, can you see me?”
I shook my head, “Just your icon.”
Cursing under his breath, Jimin apologized for the tech issues. I adored how nice he was to listen to. It was unique, gentle and raspy, but also feminine in its softness. There was no bass or hardness, every sound and syllable light and airy with self-depreciating laughter after every insult he threw at himself. Apparently, Jimin was not great with technology and always had a difficult time with cyber meetings.
“This is fine with me,” I tried to reassure him. “I don’t need to see your face to talk.”
“No,” He agreed, “But it’s a little awkward for you to have your camera on and mine’s off.”
I could hear him clicking around. “I’ll turn mine off, too, if that helps.”
He shut that down immediately and continued clicking and typing. After a few more minutes, he found his problem. Then the icon was gone and there he was.
His face was round, his cheeks plump, and chin soft. The first thing I noticed about him was his lips. They were rounded and plump like a baby duck with a soft, heart shaped cupid’s bow that led up a small, button nose. Everything about his face was soft except his eyes which were almond shaped and flicked outwards like a cat’s. His hair was pitch black and parted down the middle, framing his face and making his pale skin look like snow. When he caught a glimpse of himself in the camera a large smile took over his face and I felt the wind get knocked out of me.
“Can you see me?” He asked.
I nodded, “Yeah, I think we’re in the clear.”
Neither one of us knew what to say for a moment. He swirled around in his chair in search of his water bottle. He stood up, excusing himself for a moment. He was also wearing a blue shirt, a pair of black pants, and seemed just as nervous as I did. He left the room while I sat and thought about him.
There was one word to describe Jimin: pretty. His soft lines and tiny waist made him look so much smaller than I had imagined him. All of the years seeing him on the tv did nothing to compare to watching him walk around a little room in his home. Without a cap and goggles, Jimin was angelic, and I felt uneasy. How was I supposed to work with someone I found this attractive?
“Sorry,” He was back now, a large Yeti cup in hand. “I should’ve made sure I had this already.”
“No worries. I’m not in any rush.”
He sat back down, and I finally noticed the large oval necklace he was wearing. I did not know what it could mean to him, but I had seen him with it a few times at events. It was simple and silver, no gem in the center of the pendant, and sat directly over his heart. He took a sip from his cup, snapping me back to action.
“How’s your mother doing?” I asked. “Ozzie told me she wasn’t well.”
His expression saddened me, and I hated that I brought it up. I knew how much I did not enjoy talking about Namjoon’s death, and while his mother was still alive, she was not well. Unfortunately, I could not take the question back.
“I’m not sure how much you know,” He started, leaning back in the leather computer chair. “She has melanoma and isn’t doing chemotherapy anymore. I’m staying in Michigan so I can spend as much time with her as possible.”
My heart ached for him and his family. Cancer had a reputation for ripping families apart and I could only imagine how this was affecting the young swimmer. My own grief was long and drawn out, guilt and shame hanging over my head for years before I was finally able to let it go, but the death itself was swift. Joon was dead and buried before I woke up from the coma, but I could recall every detail of that hospital room when Victor told me what happened. I hated to think about watching the life slip from him, knowing he would die, and knowing there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.
“I understand. I’m really sorry to hear that.”
I knew it was inadequate, but I did not know this man well enough to say my thoughts out loud. Maybe later, after a few weeks of training together, I could get the courage to let him know I would be there if he needed someone to talk to. I knew all about navigating grief and I would happily help him stay motivated through this horrible, tragic time. Jimin stayed quiet so I took it upon myself to get the ball rolling again.
“I know you’re going through a difficult time right now, and I just want you to know that I get it and I see you. If we work together, I will make sure your mental health comes first. Whatever you need, whatever your family needs, will always come before getting in the pool.
“You were working with Hamilton before this, and whatever happened between you two- I don’t know, that’s none of my business, but I can promise you I will try my best to make sure our professional relationship doesn’t reach that point. Just tell me what’s up and I’ll make it work.”
Jimin smiled a small, sad smile that paled in comparison to that blinding show of teeth earlier. My eyes could not help their roaming and I felt guilty. There was a chance we would be working together, and I could not feel this way about him if that time came. I could only hope that if we did decide to move forward with this arrangement, any affections I could have for him would get buried. I would have to talk to Hoseok about this.
“I have to take her to appointments once a week,” He replied, voice small and eyes staring at something off camera. “She’s not getting her chemo anymore but still goes to see her doctor often to manage symptoms as best she can. She also has a dance class every Sunday morning and I will be going with her.”
I nodded, “I can live with that. As long as you’re still putting in work you can take your mom anywhere.”
He took a deep breath and finally looked at the camera again. The vulnerability I found there took me off guard. Jimin must be someone who wears their emotions on their sleeve, and I would have to learn to nurture that. Namjoon always told me I needed to work on being more sensitive to others, a skill I had yet to master.
“Matt didn’t like how much time I spent out of the pool. I understand where he’s coming from but I’m hoping we can come up with a training schedule that works well for the both of us. I feel bad enough pulling you away from your life, and I don’t want my personal shit to bleed into what you’re going through.”
It was a kind gesture, one I appreciated, but he needed to get over it. I told him in so many words that I was happy to help him.
“Trust me,” I said. “If I didn’t want to do this then we wouldn’t be talking.”
Jimin seemed to like my bluntness and I was fond of his over-analytical anxiety. The way he fidgeted reminded me of Namjoon, his forward and direct confrontation of his emotions and needs so strikingly similar it made it nearly impossible for me to dislike him. I don’t think a person alive could dislike this man.
“I can be in Ann Arbor next week,” Jimin had gone on another rant about inconveniencing me and I shut it down. “Everything here is already squared away. We can discuss it more later, how does that sound?”
He smiled wearily, his nerves causing him to squirm in his seat.
“I’m really looking forward to working with you, Y/N.”
I hoped my expression looked as sincere as I felt, “I’ll take care of you, kiddo.”
Pulling a face, Jimin laughed heartily. Triumphant, I smiled brazenly, his laughter contagious. I made a note to pull out a few age jokes now and then if it meant making him smile like that.
“I’m an adult man, I’ll have you know,” He was still laughing.
“Could’ve fooled me,” I teased.
“We’re going to get along just fine,” He seemed more confident than ever, and it warmed my heart. “Let me know when you’re expected to get here. Do you have my number?”
We exchanged our contact details. After days of talking over email, I finally found a smiley face emoji in my notifications, a Michigan area code attached. Saving his number, I replied with the old woman emoji earning myself another laugh.
“Talk to you later, Park.”
“See you, coach.”
I left the meeting, my chest much lighter after talking to him. He was a sweet man and not half bad to look at. I was a few years older but not disgustingly so, and he was more than available from the sound of things. Realizing the direction my thoughts were going in, I stood up from the chair to start writing out some drills and scheduling prototypes. Before I could get out of the door, however, my phone vibrated in my hand.
Jimin: 👶
I did not respond until I had my flight booked.
Me: I’m flying in on Tuesday. Know a good place to stay?
He replied a few minutes later.
Jimin: Do you need a lot of space?
Me: Not really
Jimin: One of my neighbors has their mother-in-law suite for rent. I could probably cut you a good deal with them.
I smiled. He really was a sweetheart.
Me: Thank you. And no deals. I can pay for myself.
Jimin: My mother would be very upset if I didn’t at least try.
Jimin: I was raised to respect the elderly.
I laughed out loud, thoroughly amused. I had a feeling he was testing the waters after I poked fun at him earlier. Jimin was probably used to the stick stuck up Hamilton’s ass. He was in for a treat. At the pool I was cool and collected but I could cut up with the best of them.
Me: Sorry, couldn’t hear you over the sound of my hip breaking
I was practically giddy with excitement waiting for his response. It had been such a long time since someone joked around with me like this. Hoseok tried but he was awful at taking a joke, so I stopped poking the bear. It was refreshing and all too familiar.
Jimin: I’ll get you one of those life alerts just in case.
Was he flirting with me? Did I care? Shrugging, I went along with it. I would remain strictly professional while we worked together, but if things developed after that I would let them. Happily. I barely knew this guy, but I remember this feeling. It was the first time since Joon’s death that it showed itself to me and I wanted to hold onto it.
First work then play, I told myself.
Who knows? This little bit of infatuation could fade just as quickly as it came, and I would leave Ann Arbor with a new friend instead. Might even be able to score a steady job with the kid if things worked out. My life in Colorado would remain untouched, my friends happily accepting a new kid in the group when he came to visit, and my house just as bare and empty as it always had been. The years continuing to pass me by.
I tried not to think about why that thought made me want to cry.
“I told you I’m fine,” I sighed into the phone, waiting at the baggage claim for my things. “You’re in rare form today.”
Andrea laughed, the sound slightly hysterical and I winced. That was the wrong thing to say, but she was driving me insane. I had traveled around the world multiple times, and she was acting like Michigan was going to kill me.
“Well excuse me for worrying,” Andy bit back, her tone clipped and harsh.
“I’m sorry,” I heaved one of my bags off the conveyor belt. “I know you’re just looking out for me, but I promise you I’m fine Andrea. You’ll be my first phone call if that changes.”
The other bag finally popped up and I quickly snatched it. Slinging the large duffle bag over my shoulder, I adjusted it until it rested comfortably on my shoulders. Lifting the handlebar off my large suitcase, I drug it behind me while I followed the signs for the exit. Jimin said he arranged for someone to pick me up but did not specify who. He was busy with a few interviews this morning and could not get me himself. He had been very disappointed about it.
“I know I’m nagging,” Andy groaned. “Scratch that. I’m acting like a total helicopter parent.”
I laughed, “Your husband had been even worse. The man tried to book me a charter flight because he was worried about my leg in an airport. What the fuck does that even mean?”
Everyone had been super happy for me, especially my team. Those boys almost cried when I told them who I was helping out and Jordan begged me to bring him back something autographed. None of them seemed as familiar with my own background but I was fine with that. All of them took to Hoseok rather well, except for Marcus who made me swear to come back before school let out. I did not tell them I was planning to make monthly trips to give Jimin some space with his mom. I was sure that surprise would go over very, very well.
Despite his indifference when I was first talking about the job, Seokjin became an overprotective dad as soon as I made him aware my flights were booked. He was quick to cancel them and put in a few calls of his own. Jin was an operations manager for Delta airlines and knew plenty of pilots. He was able to get me a plane to land in Willow Run out in Ypsilanti, but I quickly intervened and told him a normal flight was perfect. I rebooked my tickets and flew into Detroit Metro at 10 am.
Andy snorted, “He means well.”
It was snowing in Michigan, and I was finally hit with the realization that I would be seeing far more of it here than I ever did back in Colorado. It was only mid-September, so it was still light and melted away quickly. I would have to ask Jimin if it stayed this calm into December, but I had a feeling things would pick up by late November.
It was a very cold morning in Detroit, and I was excited to get into a heated car. Getting off the phone with Andy, I quickly sent Jimin a quick text message letting him know I was outside and looking for my ride. A loud honk made my jump, almost dropping my phone in the process.
Pulled up at the curb was a navy-blue Volkswagen Beetle. I could tell from its body that it was an older model, and it was a convertible. Sitting behind the wheel was a little old lady, a pair of gardening gloves on her hands and a pair of large, hexagon sunglasses taking up most of her face. Her face was familiar, and it hit me. Sitting behind that wheel was Jimin’s mother.
She smiled at me and waved, beckoning me closer to the little car. I forced myself to smile back. My nerves made it feel damn near impossible, but I managed. Opening the door, I did not know where to put my things. The backseat was so small.
“There’s a lever on that side that’ll push it up. You should be able to get everything to fit if you try hard enough.”
Fumbling around, I finally found the little handle and pulled up. The seat lurched forward, folding in on itself, and I clumsily shoved my suitcase into the backseat. It smelled like stale cigarettes and fake pine, but when you had a car this old it usually had history. I was excited to pick up my new car from the dealership. My Porsche already had a difficult time driving around Colorado and I did not think it would survive the heavy winters in Michigan, so I decided to leave it home and get an Altima. I had the money and could easily get rid of it. Tilly had been talking about needing an upgrade.
Finally managing to get both bags into the backseat, I put the seat back and got into the car. Closing the door, I sighed in content. The heaters were at full blast and pointed directly at my cold face. Buckling my seatbelt, I leaned back and tried to relax after the long day of flying. Jimin’s mother pulled off the curb.
“It’s cold out there,” She laughed, her voice just as sickeningly sweet as her son’s. “Glad you were able to make it okay.”
I nodded, “I’m surprised to see it snowing so early. We don’t usually get anything until closer to Thanksgiving.”
“Colorado, right?” I could hear a faint accent and I remembered that Jimin was first-generation Korean American. Both of his parents moved to the states before he and his brother were born. Media outlets loved talking about it, but I was not sure how much he enjoyed discussing his personal life. While he came off as a sweet and mild-mannered man, he kept his personal life private. “I’ve heard it’s very pretty.”
“It is. Too expensive, but very, very pretty.”
Then she was fiddling around with the radio, and I finally cracked a genuine smile. I was not sure how much work had been done on her car, but I was positive the sound system had been completely redone. A brand-new radio, complete with a touch screen and Bluetooth, lit up at the touch of her fingers. A man’s voice serenaded us through the updated speakers, and I was in awe at how beautiful it sounded. I assumed he was speaking Korean and Jimin’s mother sang along fluently.
“What’s your name again?” She asked once the song was over. Another, more upbeat song started, and she increased the volume. “Jimin told me but I’m horrible with that sort of thing. I’m Na-Yeon, but Audrey works if it’s easier for you.”
I pulled a face, “Audrey?”
“It’s my American name. It’s easier for people to pronounce and more convenient. All of us have one. Jimin’s is Christian.”
It was odd to think about. A name that was mine but not mine. Christian did not suit Jimin, but I could imagine growing up with a name that other people made fun of would be difficult. Maybe even impossible. Still, I did not feel comfortable calling the woman Audrey. She did not seem to particularly care for the name and I did not want to alienate myself from their circle for convenience's sake.
Namjoon’s mother had been similar to Na-Yeon, always afraid her culture and customs would make me uncomfortable or burdened, but I managed to calm her fears and reassure her after years of showing up to Chuseok with a smile on my face and food in my hands.
“I like Na-Yeon,” I finally replied, voice small. “It’s nice. I’m Y/N.”
“I like Y/N,” She echoed back to me, making me grin. “It’s nice.”
It was a long drive filled with K-pop, ballads, and sporadic conversation. Na-Yeon was very funny. She sang along to every song, dancing as she went, and calling on me to sing alone. Of course, I could not speak Korean very well and hummed the melodies instead, but it appeased her. When she did speak to me it was to ask me questions about myself.
“You’re that swimmer, aren’t you?” She asked, sparing me a look once we stopped at a redlight. “The one everyone’s trying to beat.”
I shook my head, “At one time, sure, but not anymore. I’m retired.”
Squinting her eyes at me, Na-Yeon pursed her lips.
“We used to watch you. Haru called you a mermaid.”
That was not too much of a shock. Jimin was swimming at that time. While I am a few years older than him, he would have been in middle school when I went to my first Olympics. He had told me he joined the swim team the year before. He said that watching Michael Phelps win 6 gold medals changed his life forever, and I could not help but agree with him. I had a huge amount of respect for my fellow Olympian and wished him well in his retirement. What shocked me the most was the mention of Jimin’s little brother. The dead brother.
“That’s sweet,” I did not know what to say. “I felt like a mermaid back then. I’m not that good anymore but I still like to swim sometimes.”
“You were in an accident,” It was not a question. “We saw it all over the news. Couldn’t believe all of those people harassing your family like that. So sorry for your loss.”
It was strange to talk about it again. I appreciated her keeping it vague. I had gone through a tremendous amount of change and growth since then, but it was nice to hear someone else validate how crazy the media frenzy was. I would not wish it upon anyone, and I was happy her family was allowed to grieve in peace. Neither Namjoon’s nor my own were allowed that luxury.
“Thank you,” I replied. “I’m sorry about Haru. I can’t imagine what your family went through.”
She smiled sadly, “I think you can.”
We did not talk much after that. The music still played, Na-Yeon still sang, and I still hummed, but we did not ask any more questions. Neither one of us wanted to bring up those hurt feelings. It was not until we turned down a long, empty road that I realized I had yet to ask her about her cancer.
“Are you feeling okay?” I asked.
“As good as I can,” She breathed. “My boys are both worriers so don’t take anything they say to heart. Bunch of hypochondriacs.”
And even though I laughed along with her, I knew that she was lying. They were not overreacting. She was sick, refusing treatments, and letting herself die. Anyone would be worried about her. Na-Yeon must dislike being taken care of. Well, I thought she would need to get used to it. I loved spoiling others.
“Eloise and the kids must be here,” She muttered to herself, pulling to a short driveway.
I did not know who Eloise was, but I would soon find that out. There were two cars parked out front. One was a simple, black Tahoe with a brightly colored steering wheel cover. The other was another vintage model. Painted a pretty light, muted green the truck was in pristine condition. It was an old Ford, the branding written across the tailgate, and a spare tire was bolted to the side. I asked Na-Yeon about it and she smiled happily.
“It’s Jimin’s,” I felt my heart rate increase. “He must’ve gotten back. Pretty thing, huh?”
I nodded, not really paying attention to the truck anymore. I was about to meet Jimin for the first time and my nerves were taking over. I knew how much his looks affected me over video chat and I was afraid I would not be able to control my facial expressions in person. I was resolute not to act on whatever attraction I may have felt toward him. My professionalism would not allow it. It did not mean, however, that I wanted to discuss it with Jimin at any point. It would make him uncomfortable and affect our working environment.
“Keep your bags in the car,” Na-Yeon told me. “Jimin’s going to take you over to meet the Andersons this afternoon.”
Walking up to the house, I was first struck by two things. The main one being the impressive teal it was painted and the other the loud talking and laughter coming from inside. It was odd. Thinking about my own parents I knew we had never been so happy. Mom had left when I was so young that I could hardly remember her, but I could recall the screaming and shouting. Dad was quiet after she left, spent most of his time locked away in the garage watching sports channels and leaving me to my own devices.
When I started swimming it helped for a time, but when I was old enough to leave, we spoke two or three times a year. After he met Danielle, his new wife, he stopped reaching out altogether. The accident had spooked him enough to warrant holiday and birthday calls for a time, but when he had another baby those slowly faded away. My half-sister and I had never met, Danielle did not like acknowledging that my dad had a child with another woman, and it seemed as though my dad was fine with how things turned out. I dealt with it.
The laughing echoed through the house, and I could hear loud foot-steps pitter pattering on the tile floors. The house smelled heavily of kimchi and lemons making my heart ache. Joon and I used to keep the windows open for days after his mother came over to make kimchi with him. We would squat on the floor for hours, laughing and talking. I missed those days more than I realized and I smiled involuntarily. For the first time in years, it felt like coming home.
“Sorry about the smell,” Na-Yeon whispered to me.
I shook my head and took my shoes off. “I love kimchi.”
She smiled brightly, her shoulders immediately relaxing. I was glad I had spent so much time with Namjoon and his family. Na-Yeon was someone who wanted to make others feel more comfortable even if it put her own peace at risk, but I would never ask her to change her routine for me. I loved learning about other people and her little house brought me more happiness than I thought possible.
“Sounds like we have company!”
A short, stocky man came into the living room. He was wearing a white polo shirt and khaki shorts; his hair was very short with silver streaks starting to take over the once very black strands. Catching sight of me he smiled.
“You must be Y/N,” The man said. “I’m James.”
His accent was much thicker than Na-Yeon’s and he introduced himself in his English name. He seemed much happier about it than his wife did, and I decided to go along with it. If he wanted me to call him James, then I would.
“Nice to meet you,” I replied, giving him a small bow.
His smile got even bigger somehow, and he returned the gesture. Na-Yeon chuckled beside me and started to speak to her husband in Korean. I picked up a few words and deduced that he was supposed to make sure I was going to get a nice lunch, and she wanted to know if he had taken care of it. He nodded and told her he had.
“Hungry?” James asked, Na-Yeon already disappearing into the house.
“Yes,” I quickly followed behind him.
“I made jjigae,” He frowned. “I can’t say it in English. Sorry.”
The house was small and warmly lit. Cream tile flooring, exposed wood beams, and white walls. Whatever loud conversation they had been having before I got here had died down, but the footsteps did not. I could hear children giggling somewhere in the little home and my curiosity peaked. I did not think they were Na-Yeon and James’s.
“I want to say it’s soup,” I kept my voice down not wanting to make him feel awkward. “Or stew, but I don’t think it matters that much.”
“What’s the difference?” James asked, just as amused as his wife at my vague knowledge of Korean words. “Soup and stew the same, no?”
I shrugged, “I have no clue. I’m a miserable cook.”
That made James laugh. We passed all of the rooms in the house, the kitchen, living room, and dining room all in the back of the house. As we passed the second room to the left, James said it had been Haru’s photography studio before he passed away, but they ended up converting it once Eloise gave birth. He did not say it out loud, but I had gathered the kids running around had been their youngest son’s. I did not know how old Haru had been when he died, but it was far too young to be having children. I was 31 and still felt ill equipped for the job.
It was a small kitchen with very simple and plain colors. The countertops were obviously laminate, but someone had taken the time to stick on a marble patterning to make it look nicer. Black appliances clashed with the chestnut cabinets. The tiles were no longer cream but hideous black and white checker printed that clashed heavily against the olive-green backsplash. While the rest of the house seemed to go through renovations at some point, I had a feeling the kitchen remained largely untouched.
Sitting at a small table on the other side of the room were Na-Yeon, Jimin, and a young woman. She was a cute girl, long brown hair and blue eyes, a large number of freckles across her cheeks. Her outfit was very modest, a pair of flowy cream pants and an equally flowy olive shirt. Her hair was tied back with a ribbon that matched her pants, and taking a closer look at her, she wore no makeup. A classic girl next door.
“Come sit,” Na-Yeon waved me over, her voice showing no room for argument. “Hyun-Soo is in charge of lunch.”
I was only briefly confused, the name completely unfamiliar, but by the time I sat down I was sure she was talking about James. It made sense for her to call him by his Korean name, and since I had shown no qualms about using their proper names, she saw no need to bring them up herself.
“Nice to finally meet you,” Jimin’s sweet voice reached me, and I smiled at the sound. “I hope getting here wasn’t too bad.”
He reached out to me, and I happily took his hand in my own. The skin was soft, perfectly smooth, and warm. It was over far too quickly but my displeasure was easily hidden. Andrea always complained about my poker face and how difficult it was to get past it. She said it was too good and thus refused to ever play poker with me again.
“It was nice,” I meant it. Na-Yeon was wonderful company.
“Hope the concert was nice.”
That made me and Eloise laugh. Na-Yeon smacked Jimin’s arm playfully, unable to keep the smile off her face, and the two began to bicker. Having them in the same room highlighted the differences I hadn't noticed before. Jimin’s nose was closer to his father’s, his eyes, too, and both of them had a slight lisp. Na-Yeon’s teeth were perfectly white and straight while one of Jimin’s front teeth was slightly chipped. Jimin had a dimple; his mother had none. Their English soon turned to digs in Korean and I could no longer follow. A few words here and there but nothing substantial. James joined them.
“Hi,” Eloise shyly greeted me, obviously used to being left out of conversations.
“Hey,” I replied lamely. “Eloise?”
She nodded, “Cam and Harper are playing but you’ll meet them in a bit.”
I nodded along and cemented the names into memory. It would look bad if I forgot them and kids had an ability to remember the worst things about a person. I did not want them to dislike me this quickly. Their giggles and feet were still going, and I suspected they had their own rooms on top of the little playroom in the hall.
“What do you do for work?” I asked Eloise, hoping my attempts at small talk were going over well. The other three were still chatting and I stopped paying attention long enough to be completely lost. Their dialect was different from Namjoon’s family, and I gave up entirely once they switched in and out of it with ease.
“I’m taking over Audrey’s restaurant,” Eloise, it seemed, preferred to use their American names. I wondered if she called Jimin ‘Christian.’ I really did not like the name for him. Not at all. “We used to be co-owners but she’s preparing for…” Eloise’s eyebrows scrunched together as she struggled to come up with a way to voice her thoughts, “her next steps. You know what I mean?”
I nodded. It was so easy to forget why I was really here when Na-Yeon was so full of life. She laughed and joked easily, sang off-key in the car without a care in the world, and called the shots at home. I had hardly noticed any sickness, but I knew better. I already figured out she hated being cared for and our trip in the car could have taken a lot of her. More than I realized.
Wanting to change the subject, I asked about the kids. Eloise was more than happy to talk about her little ones. Cameron and Harper were twins, names that she had originally been very against but when she lost Tony (Haru preferred his American name, Anthony, and all of his closest friends called him Tony), her opinions changed. Harper was the bigger, older baby, while her brother needed to stay in the NICU for a few days after birth due to his weight. They were joined at the hip and rarely seen without the other, something Eloise was happy about given she was usually too busy to spend as much time with them as she would have liked.
“How old are they?” I asked.
“Almost 4.”
Jimin was 19 then. I shuddered to think about how old Haru was, or Eloise for that matter when they became parents. When I was their age, I had been at the top of my game, though not what I would call my prime. If I had gotten pregnant my career would not have been over, but meeting Joon never would have happened. That was a travesty regardless of how things turned out. Trying to picture a life without him touching it made me physically ill and so I pushed any of those thoughts away.
Cam and Harper came out of their room when dinner was ready. They were both very cute, loud, and dressed identically. Harper’s hair was braided down her back while Cam’s was in a bowl cut, and I laughed every time the little girl made a big show about her sparkly red shoes.
James made a very spicy fish stew. It was delicious, so salty and hot, but I needed multiple glasses of water as I ate. He used red snapper adding a sweet, nutty flavor to the otherwise savory dish and I loved the zucchini. Like many Korean meals there was an array of side dishes surrounding the large pot of stew. Tonight was braised potatoes, steamed eggplant, a radish salad, and, of course, kimchi. A small bowl of rice was given to all of us to eat the stew with and the rice cooker was filled if any of us wanted more.
The Parks were a lovely family. Jimin was quiet and did not talk to me much but his mother more than made up for his silence. After getting all of the details about my coaching job she moved on to my life back in Colorado. We talked about my friends and what they were like, my house, and even my neighbors. Na-Yeon seemed particularly interested in Hoseok since Jimin had been such a fan of his growing up.
“You need to get her over to Calvin and Violet’s,” James told his son, scraping up the last bit of the soup out of his bowl. “They’re expecting her soon.”
Jimin looked at me, eyebrow raised, “Are you ready?”
I nodded, “We can leave whenever you’re done.”
He smiled and went back to eating his meal. Eloise left before I did, Cam was tired and Harper was bored without her playmate, so she decided it was time they went home. Cam liked an afternoon nap still, but his sister could run all day if you let her. Harper gave me a big bear hug before she left, something Na-Yeon said she did to everyone, and held her brother’s hand on their way out.
Na-Yeon eventually got up from the table, James followed after her, leaving Jimin and I alone. I did not know what to say, if he wanted me to say anything at all. He had hardly spoken to me since I arrived, and it left me feeling out of place. I was here for him, and he wanted nothing to do with me. He kept eating, the spice unfazed him, and getting bowl after bowl of rice.
Watching him walk around I was struck by how short he was. Most male swimmers were huge, well over 6 feet, and broadly built. Not Jimin. He could not be any taller than 5’9” with a thin, tiny waist. I could see defined muscles hidden underneath his white t-shirt, but nothing spectacular. Even his body was soft and elegant, moving gracefully and quietly, and absolutely none of it would give away that he was a world-class athlete. As if he could feel my eyes following him, Jimin’s eyes snapped to meet my own.
“Sorry,” He pulled his spoon from his mouth. “I’m sure you’d like to leave and here I am gorging myself.”
I stopped him before he could stand, “No, no. I’m fine. I was just thinking about your workout routine.”
The lie felt heavy on my tongue, but I could hear how natural it sounded. He sat back down and took another bite of his food. His workout regime was standard for most swimmers. Pull-ups, bench, squat, lunge, power cleans, power cleans to overhead press. After that he was in the pool for a few hours before going about his day. He usually added in another swim at the end of the day, but he had recently given it up to have dinner with his family.
“What are you doing for your core?” I asked.
“I stick to pull ups, crunches, thrusts, and back extensions.”
I nodded, frowning, gears in my head turning. I have always believed the core was the most important part of swimming. Arms as well, but I have seen many overwork those muscles and lose from weak turns. Hoseok used to joke about my performance and how I only won because of my turns. I would make sure he would be able to see a little bit of me in Jimin’s swimming. There was a reason I won gold.
“You don’t look very impressed.”
I chuckled, “Just thinking. You need more variety than that.”
“Gym snob, are we?” His mouth stretched into a playful smirk, and I could not help but smile back. “You must be an animal in there.”
“I don’t work out like I used to,” I admitted, averting my eyes. “Most of my exercises are yoga and running now. I swim twice a week.”
I was hoping to get back in the pool more often, but I was not sure I was ready for the disappointment that would follow. My sessions with Emery were simple, exercise-focused, and had little to no expectations behind them. They were there to help me gain strength and confidence in myself. Saturdays were spent with Hoseok doing laps around the pool and shooting the shit. It was just enough to get your heart pumping but never went past that.
Failing was daunting. I could not remember a time before swimming consumed my life. My dad always said I was afraid of the water; it was the biggest reason he placed me in lessons. He did not have the time (nor patience) to teach me himself, and after I saw younger children getting into the pool I was determined to act like a “big girl.” I was only three at the time, so the memory was lost to time, but I went every week after that. It gave my dad a break and I had friends for the first time. I learned later that mom had left for a few months and dad was drinking again, but at the time all I knew was that I liked swimming, and I was good at it.
It was frightening to believe that all of the time, energy, and hard work went to waste. 30 seconds. That was all it took to destroy my life. 30 seconds and all of my joy, love, and happiness was gone. My career, my health, and my Joon. I hated the man who hit us. Hated the way his family cried for me. For him. For Joon. Squeeze my hands into fists, I was glad they were hidden underneath the table. Getting in the water and realizing it was truly over would only make that hatred worsen, and my therapist told me I needed to let go of my anger.
“Violet and Calvin are excited to meet you,” I did not know if Jimin could see something in his face, perhaps my eyes, but he changed the subject. The look on his face made me feel exposed. “We should get going.”
No one was around when I left so I did not get to say goodbye, but Jimin yelled that we were leaving. We did not get a response and I wondered if his mother had actually gone to do laundry or take a nap. She looked tired when she left the table. Jimin told me to get into the truck and laughed when I said I could grab my own bags.
“Your hip might give out, granny.”
Off guard, a strange, loud noise came out of my mouth. He had yet to start up our playful banter and my heart soared. Jimin was a very cheeky man, his tongue sharp, and with a quick snapback time, he was difficult to take down. Our text exchanges were always brief and about work, but he managed to squeeze in at least one teasing comment about my age. He said calling him ‘kiddo’ is what started the whole thing.
“Just get in the truck,” He sighed melodramatically, rolling his eyes.
Huffing, I went across the lawn and got into the unlocked truck on the curb. The interior was just as refurbished as the exterior. The bench was covered in a dark green vinyl, and I could tell the rubber carpet mats were new. It smelled much better in Jimin’s truck. Less like cigarettes and more like the cologne he wore. It was floral, powdery, but with a subtle spice that made it bitter-sweet. It had a nice scent. It suited a man like Jimin whose own spice was buried underneath his pretty visage.
Watching him jog across the yard, I suppressed a sigh. It was easier to ignore how pretty he was when we were around other people. Now it felt impossible. His clothes stuck to him like a second skin, the black leather pants (which I had only just noticed were leather) making his thighs bulge and accentuating his backside. He was gorgeous and I felt sorry that I would have to keep it to myself. Jimin deserved to be told things like that, but it was not my place to do so. Not as a coach, trainer, or otherwise.
He tossed my things into the cab of the truck as if they weighed nothing. Arms lifted; his shirt rose revealing a delicious patch of skin. Watching him in the rearview mirror, I swallowed audibly. A thin, almost nonexistent patch of hair touched his belly button. Forcing myself to look away, I took a few deep breaths.
This trip was going to be long. Very, very long.
The drive down the road was quiet. Jimin’s radio was out, and he needed to replace it, so music was not an option, and he did not seem to want to fill the space between us. Neither did I. My growing bashfulness around him was distracting and strange. I had always been surrounded by attractive men, all of my friends back home were very good looking, but none affected me in the same way Jimin had. Perhaps it was due to my relationship with Namjoon that made all of the other men pale in comparison, but I could never know for sure. Either way, it was incredibly frustrating.
We drove for less than ten minutes. Calvin and Violet were the elderly couple renting out the small house in their backyard. Jimin had spoken to them for me, and they were all too willing to help me out. Violet nearly cried when I told her I was going to pay all of my rent up front, and actually did when I told her that I would help her fix up some things around the house while I was in town. The Andersons seemed like lovely people, and I was happy to know them.
Pulling up to the house I smiled. It was exactly how I imagined it would be. The Anderson house was a simple, All-American home with a front porch. The window trimming was black, house white, and a beautiful garden wrapped around the front at either side. The roof and front door were the same color green as Jimin’s truck, and it helped the otherwise unnoteworthy home feel more inviting. Sitting on the porch swing was Violet, her silver hair braided down her shoulder.
“Before we get out,” Jimin mumbled, waving at Violet through my window. The old woman waved back, a large smile on her face making her look twenty years younger. “The Andersons are great people, but Calvin’s starting to forget stuff. Violet won’t admit it but it’s getting hard on her to deal with him. He can become very angry so keep an ear out. Last time he had an episode, Violet called my dad crying. She’s not handling it well.”
I frowned, my heart hurting, “Sure thing. I’ll let you know if anything happens.”
“Thanks.”
He was out of the car a few seconds later, voice so sweet and bubbly you would have never guessed what we had been talking about. Staring after him, my eyes squinted. I would have to keep my eye on him. Jimin was a great actor.
Getting out of the truck, I took out my bags and slung my duffle on my back. Jimin was quick to take my suitcase away once he caught me in the corner of his eye. Violet seemed positively giddy about it and made a few inappropriate comments about Jimin needing to settle down.
“I’m just saying,” She laughed when Jimin scoffed, face flushing the prettiest shade of pink. “You’re going to make a young woman very happy. Might as well get started.”
It was strange to think about my trainee seeing someone. He had made it very clear in his interviews over the years that his dating life was on hold until he was finished swimming. He did not want the added distraction and his family life was far too chaotic for him to focus on someone. This did not seem to deter Violet and her comments about his love life, or lack thereof, continued until we got inside of the house.
“Well,” Violet acknowledged me for the first time since I arrived, “This is the main house. It’s not much but it’ll work. Christian, take her stuff out back.”
I cringed. It really did not suit Jimin at all, but he seemed completely unfazed. Violet used his names interchangeably, sometimes calling him Jimin and other times Christian, but his English name rolled off her tongue more often than not. I wondered why she even bothered calling him Jimin at all. He did not seem to care either way.
Looking around the little house, I was pleasantly surprised by how clean it all was. The floors were carpeted and the walls a bright white, family photos hung up alongside landscape paintings. During my two-hour phone call with Violet, the woman talked my ear off, she bragged about Calvin’s art. I had to admit they were all very beautiful and I wanted to know where he had found all of the slices of heaven he captured. I hoped the places themselves were more colorful than he depicted. The muted washes of color made them blend in with the rest of the boring house even with how nice they were.
The furniture was just as boring as the house itself. All of it was cream or beige, nothing of importance really stuck out to me, and I was disappointed. All I could figure out about the couple was one was an artist and they had children and grandchildren they loved displaying. Even the smell of the house lacked character. No air freshener, no food, and no perfumes. Nothing to give away that people actually lived here. The Anderson home was a foil to the Park’s in every way.
“Come on out back,” Violet was already across the house, standing in front of a door beside the kitchen. “This is the utility room. You can do your laundry here.”
Following behind her, I felt even more depressed looking at her kitchen. It was nice, new appliances and a pretty coffee station on the corner closest to the utility room door, but it was bland. All white cabinets, white marble countertops, and stainless steel everything. Even the curtains hanging around the windows above the sink were dreadfully plain.
The utility room, like everything else, was plain. The washer and dryer were white, the floor concrete, and the shelving barebones. The detergent was the most colorful thing I saw since arriving. Somehow even this room smelled like absolutely nothing. Directly across from the door we entered was the backdoor and Violet told me where they would hide a key for me to be able to get inside.
“Ready to see it?” She asked, smiling politely.
I nodded, “Thanks again for renting it out to me.”
She chuckled, “No thanks needed. You were paying, that was enough for me to say yes.”
The back porch was tiny, just barely big enough for the both of us to stand on. There was a small vegetable garden along the side of the house, but it was empty. Noticing my wandering eyes, Violet told me all about the turnips and gourds she had been planting this season. She had watermelon and tomatoes in the summer, but they were long gone. The rest of the yard was taken up by my home for the next few months.
It was small, but that was to be expected. What disappointed me, though I should have not been very surprised, was how white it was. The windows were a dark gray, a small porch was set up with enough room for one of those hanging egg chairs, and two built-in planters. They were empty and Violet told me I was welcome to give gardening a chance if I was interested. She was planning on growing some flowers eventually, but she was not sure what she wanted.
The front door was open, Jimin already inside, and Violet and I went in. There was a small entryway, two doors leading to rooms I would explore later, and a small shoe rack. I took mine off and put them up. Violet watched me and took hers off as well.
“Audrey told me I should put one in here,” I was learning that Violet enjoyed meaningless small talk. “Glad I did. Don’t think Christian took his shoes off, though.”
I shrugged, “No biggie. I was going to clean up around here anyway.”
The house opened up to my right and I was happy with the space. I had a fully functional kitchen and enough space for my coffee cabinet along the wall. The living room would be able to fit a small loveseat, television, and coffee table. It was white and plain, but I was very happy with the floors. Whoever picked out the dark vinyl flooring must have had me in mind. I would go crazy if this place was as sterile as the Andersons’.
“I put your stuff in your room.”
Turning I grinned at Jimin. It was sweet of him to help me out. I was going to pick up my car tomorrow morning and he had volunteered to drive me. We would be starting our training next week so I could have some time to settle in. All of my furniture was arriving either tomorrow or the day after and my hands would be full. I was counting on Jimin and his friends to help me unpack. His manager was going to make himself known as well, but would not be staying for long. Apparently, according to Jimin, Sejin was not one to get his hands dirty.
“Thank you.”
“I’ll let you get settled in,” Violet was already scratching to leave, and I wondered why. She had been very hospitable over the phone. “You’re welcome to join us for dinner. Calvin is going to bring the air mattress out here tonight, so you have someplace to sleep.”
With a kiss on Jimin’s cheek, Violet slipped on her flats and left. Alone with Jimin again, I found it hard to speak. We were much better over text. Looking just as lost as I was, Jimin scratched the back of his neck and looked down.
“My, uh, my mom offered you her couch if you want it,” He stuttered, his face turning red. “Or, uh, um, you can take the spare room at my place,” He let out a huge gust of wind. “It’s a bit of a drive but I do have the space.”
Flustered, I quickly declined, “Thanks but I’ll be fine here.”
“Oh, yeah,” Jimin shook his head, the redness spreading down his neck. “For sure. Totally.”
The air was awkward now and I could not figure out how to fix it. Jimin was the one always breaking the ice between us, and now that he was acting like this I was stranded at sea. Even when he warned me he was more reserved in person I had not expected this. He was so quiet and skittish. How was I supposed to work with him if I could not get the courage to speak?
“Thanks for the offer,” I cleared my throat. “Are you staying for dinner?”
He shook his head, “I promised Jungkook we’d go out tonight. Any other time I’d say yes.”
I asked my disappointment. The thought of spending time with Violet and Calvin alone made me deeply uncomfortable. Their house felt like a hospital room and her weird behavior was unsettling. I could only hope Calvin was nicer but from what Jimin said he was a ticking time bomb. It would be nice to have someone act as a buffer.
“Why was she acting so strangely?” I asked, hoping Jimin had picked up on it as well. “It was like a totally different person.”
He frowned, “I think she’s just on edge since Calvin went to the doctor’s today. Their daughter took him, and she hasn’t heard anything. She’s a sweet woman, don’t worry.”
Now I felt like an asshole.
“That’s understandable,” I murmured. “Do you think she’ll be upset if I order food for all of us? If she’s stressed out, I don’t want her feeling like she has to cook for me.”
Jimin smiled, “She would appreciate it. I’ll go talk to her, how does that sound?”
I nodded, grateful. “That would be nice. The house gives me the creeps.”
That made him laugh, “What? Why?”
I shrugged, giggling with him.
“Feels like a funeral home or something. I hate the minimalist aesthetic.”
Jimin bit his lip, “You’d probably hate my place, too, then.”
I chuckled. It was easy to imagine Jimin inside of a huge modern house, dark wood and barely anything in it. He was a single man, busy, and spent so much time at his parent’s house it did not matter what he had inside of his own place. Not wanting to make him self conscious, I bit my tongue.
“I’m sure it’s not that bad.”
He cocked his head to the side, and I laughed.
“Fine,” I conceded. “I would probably dislike it, but I don’t think it looks like a white padded cell.”
I may have been exaggerating a bit, but it was not that far off from how the Anderson home looked to me. I hoped by asking me to help fix up a few things, Violet meant giving the house a much-needed makeover. If I was lucky, I might be able to convince her to get a few throw pillows to break up the monotony.
“Jeez,” Jimin laughed. “Harsh critic.”
“Well, is it?” I joked, glad to have found our footing again.
“No,” He shook his head in thought. “It’s mostly gray and black, but still just as empty. Probably emptier, honestly. I don’t have as many pictures as Violet does.”
Smirking, he snapped his fingers, “My trophy room is pretty colorful. I have a lot of pictures and shit in there.”
That made me smile. I was not bringing any of my memorabilia here, but it was nice to hear him sound so proud of himself. I kept most of my competition stuff in my basement, a large China cabinet displaying all of my awards. My favorite had to be the small, cheaply made trophy sat at the very top. It was beside my Olympic medals, worn and dull beside the beautiful necklaces, but I loved it all the same.
It was the first trophy I ever won. I was seven and my dad convinced me to sign up for a swimming competition my swim class was hosting. He promised to come. I practiced a lot preparing for it and made use of the new above ground pool my dad had bought. I won the race. My own joy and happiness made me forget that he never showed up until it was time to go home. I had to wait with my coach for two hours, and by the end of it she felt so bad for me she took me out for ice cream. Dad never apologized, I don’t even think he acknowledged that I won at all, and I never tried to bring it up again. Still, I loved that stupid thing. It was the reason I wanted to compete. That little pocket of happiness between winning and realizing that no one cared was precious to me and I held onto it.
“I need to get going,” Jimin sighed, reaching into his back pocket and snapping me out of my thoughts. “Jungkook’s blowing up my phone. Just got broken up with and needs a drinking buddy.”
I sucked in air through my teeth, “Well, your services are needed. Don’t let me hold you up.”
Jimin smiled at me, “See you tomorrow, yeah?”
I nodded, “See you.”
He lingered in the entryway for a moment more before shaking out of whatever trance he had been in. Slipping his converse back on, Jimin waved at me before walking outside. His face was buried in his phone, so he never saw me wave back. He shut the door, the sound echoing in the empty house, and I was once again left alone.
Violet came out a few minutes later to discuss take out until we finally landed on pizza. She never said thank you, but her offer to give the tip since I was paying was more than enough. Then later when a few of my boxes came in early she happily carried them to me. She even helped me put everything away. When Calvin came home, she led me back inside and said with so much affection it made my heart melt.
"Calvin, this is Y/N. Sweetest woman I ever did meet. Bought us dinner."
Calvin reminded me of Namjoon in a way. His soft eyes and gentle voice. He took my hand when I introduced myself, his hands cold and soft. Wrinkles and sunspots went up the length of his arms.
"It's a pleasure to meet you," He said.
"Likewise," I replied.
We ate in silence, the three of us watching Jeopardy on the sofa. Even though I had been nervous about eating inside, Calvin's presence warmed the place up. Once a prison now felt like a poorly decorated home. A home filled with love.
As I watched them together, Calvin reaching out for Violet's hand and her giving it to him without question, I felt myself getting choked up. There had been a time I had that. Joon would be on the floor, book in his lap, while my hands were in his hair as I studied my training tapes.
I left early that night. I blew up the mattress, the house quiet, before sending out a few texts to my friends to let them know I was getting on alright. After that, I put on nature sounds to help me drift off to sleep. I had not felt this lonely in a very long time.
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